Elara Thorne POV:
The water eventually ran cold. I stood shivering under the spray until my teeth chattered, then finally shut it off. Wrapping myself in a thick, dark towel that smelled of him—pine and that impossibly clean mountain air—I stepped cautiously back into the bedroom. My own clothes, the torn jeans and worn shirt I'd arrived in, were gone. Of course they were.
I didn't know what to do. Where to go. I was a prisoner in a gilded cage, marked and mated to the king.
As if summoned by the thought, a voice materialized inside my head. It wasn't a sound that traveled through the air; it was simply… there. Deep, familiar, and vibrating with the same authority that had filled his office.
*I had urgent pack business. Maeve will see to your needs.*
I flinched, my hand flying to my temple as if I could ward off the intrusion. A mind-link. It was another facet of the bond, one I was completely unprepared for. The intimacy of it, the casual invasion, sent a fresh wave of panic through me. I was tethered to him now, in every way that mattered.
My phone, which someone had retrieved from my pocket and placed on the heavy wood nightstand, buzzed. The screen lit up, and my heart plummeted. It was a text from the one person I wasn't ready to face. The one person who made this entire situation a catastrophe.
Briar: *Sooo? How's playing house with the big bad Alpha King? Don't let him scare you! He's just a grumpy old bear. Meet me at the training grounds?*
I sank onto the edge of the bed, the towel clutched tight. A grumpy old bear. Briar saw her father as a stoic, emotionally distant Alpha whose own wolf had gone dormant decades ago after her mother’s death. A safe, political figurehead for me to align with. She had no idea. The wolf I’d felt last night, the raw power that had met mine, was anything but dormant. It was a predator, ancient and absolute, and it had claimed me.
A soft knock came at the door. "Luna?" a woman's voice called.
I swallowed, my throat dry. "Come in."
The door opened and a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and neatly pinned grey hair entered. She carried a folded pile of clothes. Her demeanor was respectful, but her eyes held a knowing glint as they flickered briefly to the mark on my neck before meeting mine. "I am Maeve," she said, her voice quiet. "The Alpha King asked me to bring you these."
She laid the clothes on a leather armchair. Simple black leggings, a soft grey tunic, and sturdy boots. Practical. As I moved to get dressed, her phone buzzed. She answered it with a polite murmur. "Yes... I understand. I will let her know." She listened for a moment. "The Luna is resting after her journey. She will meet you at the grounds later this morning."
My head snapped up. She was talking to Briar. Covering for me. The lie had already begun, constructed by others to protect the new Luna.
"Thank you," I said, my voice barely a whisper as I pulled on the tunic.
Maeve simply nodded, her expression unreadable. "Will you be needing anything else, Luna?"
"Kaelen…" I started, the name feeling foreign and dangerous on my tongue. "The Alpha King. Briar always said his… his Inner Wolf is dormant."
Maeve’s face remained a polite, neutral mask, but she broke eye contact, her gaze dropping to smooth a non-existent wrinkle on the bedspread. The shift was subtle, but it was everything. "The Alpha King is… disciplined," she said carefully.
Disciplined. Not dormant. The confirmation sent a chill down my spine.
Now dressed, with Maeve’s evasive words echoing in my mind, there was no more hiding. I had to go face my best friend. I had to walk out into this pack, wearing this mark, and pretend that my world hadn't just been shattered and rebuilt into a shape I didn't recognize. I had to lie.
The Blackwood pack's training grounds were a sprawling field of packed earth and splintered wood, buzzing with energy. Warriors sparred in the rings, their grunts and the crack of fists on leather pads filling the crisp morning air. The scent of sweat, dirt, and wolfish aggression was sharp. Dozens of eyes turned to me as I walked onto the grounds, their gazes lingering on my face, then dropping to the mark on my neck. I felt it like a brand.
Across the field, I spotted her. Briar’s fiery red hair was a beacon. She was laughing with another warrior, then her eyes found mine and her face split into a wide, enthusiastic grin. She waved, a big, looping gesture, and started jogging toward me.
My feet felt rooted to the spot. My wolf paced nervously inside me.
"Elara!" Briar’s voice was bright with excitement as she closed the distance, pulling me into a hug that was so tight it squeezed the air from my lungs. It was so normal, so *Briar*, that it felt like a physical blow. "You're okay! I was worried he’d scare you off before breakfast."
She pulled back, holding me by the shoulders, her mischievous eyes looking me up and down. Her gaze was searching, but it was looking for signs of fear or intimidation, not… this. She saw the new clothes, the exhaustion in my eyes, but her brain didn't register the one thing the entire pack had already seen. She was my best friend, but she was also his daughter, and her cheerful blindness was a special kind of torture.
"So?" she prompted, her grin widening into a conspiratorial smirk. "You survived the night with the great Kaelen Blackwood. What's the verdict?"
Before I could form a single word, before I could even begin to weave the first thread of the lie, she beamed, gave me a playful wink, and snapped a mock salute. Her voice rang out, loud and clear enough for the nearby warriors to hear.
"Hello, Luna!"
Briar's smiling face was inches from mine, waiting for a happy response. The sounds of grunts and sparring warriors faded to a dull hum, the world narrowing to the space between us. The word 'Luna' hung in the air, a title that felt both like a brand on my soul and a cage snapping shut around me. My heart hammered against my ribs with a guilt so sharp, so suffocating, it was a physical pain.
