Chapter 5: The Glass Cage
The black silk dress fit like a second skin. It should have; it was cut for Seraphina’s body, and we were identical down to the millimeter.
But where Seraphina filled it with confidence and vanity, I felt like an imposter wrapped in midnight. The fabric was backless, dipping dangerously low, exposing the scars on my shoulder blades from years of "discipline" in the servants' quarters.
I stepped out of the bathroom.
Kaelen was waiting by the door. He had changed into a sharp charcoal suit, no tie, the top button of his shirt undone to reveal the hollow of his throat. He looked like every sin I had ever been warned against.
He looked up. His eyes widened, traversing my body from the heels to the messy bun I had managed to twist my hair into.
"Turn around," he commanded.
I obeyed, my heart thumping.
He stared at my exposed back. His gaze lingered on the faint, white lines of my scars. I waited for him to ask. I waited for him to realize that his "perfect" wife didn't have scars.
But he didn't ask. He just inhaled sharply, the sound filling the small room.
"Let’s go," he said, his voice rough. "The car is waiting."
We walked down the grand staircase. Seraphina was waiting at the bottom, pacing like a caged tigress. She had changed her dress, doused herself in more perfume, and looked ready to war.
"I’m ready, Kaelen," she announced, grabbing her purse. "I assume we’re taking the limousine?"
Kaelen didn't stop walking. He breezed past her, his hand gripping my elbow to guide me.
"You aren't coming, Seraphina," he said coolly.
Seraphina froze. "Excuse me?"
"I’m going to the City Penthouse," Kaelen said, pushing the front door open. The cold wind hit us. "I need absolute silence to focus. Your… scent… is fluctuating today. It irritates the wolf."
"Irritates?" Seraphina choked out, her face crumbling. "I am your wife! You can't take the maid to the Penthouse and leave me here!"
"I can do whatever I want," Kaelen growled, stopping on the driveway. He turned to look at her, his eyes flashing dangerous gold. "And right now, I want you to stay here and fix whatever is wrong with your pheromones. You smell like burnt sugar. It’s nauseating."
He opened the car door for me—me, the servant—and nudged me inside.
"Get in, Elara."
I slid into the leather backseat. Kaelen got in beside me.
"Drive," he ordered the Beta driver.
As the car pulled away, I looked out the window. Seraphina was standing on the porch, screaming silently, her face twisted into a vow of vengeance.
We were alone.
The drive to the city took an hour. An hour of suffocating silence.
Kaelen didn't look at me. He stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight. But his hand… his hand was resting on the seat between us, inches from my thigh.
I could feel the heat radiating from him. Every time the car went over a bump, our legs brushed, and a jolt of electricity—pure, mate-bond static—snapped through the cabin.
He felt it too. Every time we touched, his breath hitched.
We arrived at the Blackwood Tower, a sleek skyscraper of glass and steel. He ushered me into a private elevator. There were no buttons. It only went to the top.
The Penthouse was a glass cage in the sky. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city lights. It was cold, modern, and completely isolated.
"Sit," Kaelen ordered, pointing to a black leather sofa in the center of the room.
I sat, smoothing the silk dress over my knees.
Kaelen walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of amber liquid. He drank it in one swallow. Then he turned to face me.
"Do you know why we are here, Elara?"
"No, Alpha."
"Stop calling me that," he warned, walking toward me. He didn't stop until he was standing between my knees, looming over me. "We are here because I am losing my mind. And you are the key."
He set the glass down on the coffee table with a clink.
"My wife is at home," he said softly, leaning down. "My pack is miles away. There is no one here but us. No one to judge. No one to lie to."
He reached out and grabbed my wrists, pulling me up from the sofa.
"I want you to tell me the truth," he whispered, pulling me close until our chests were touching. "What did you do to me?"
"I didn't do anything," I cried, looking up into his storm-gray eyes.
"Liar," he groaned.
He didn't pull away this time. Instead, he pushed me backward.
I stumbled until my back hit the cold glass of the window. We were forty stories up, suspended in the night sky.
Kaelen caged me in, placing his hands on the glass on either side of my head.
"I tried to hate you today," he confessed, his voice ragged. "I looked at you in this dress, and I tried to see a servant. I tried to see a stranger."
He lowered his head, his nose grazing the slope of my neck.
"But all I see is mine."
He inhaled deeply, dragging his scent glands over mine. The reaction was violent. My knees buckled. His growl vibrated against my throat.
"You smell like my mate," he snarled, the confusion making him aggressive. "Why? Why does Seraphina’s twin smell more like my wife than she does?"
"Maybe… maybe you chose wrong," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Kaelen froze.
He pulled back, his eyes narrowing. "What did you say?"
"Maybe the Moon Goddess didn't make a mistake," I said, my voice shaking but gaining strength. "Maybe you did."
His expression darkened. "Are you suggesting I marked the wrong woman? That is impossible. The bond doesn't lie."
"Doesn't it?" I challenged, fueled by the adrenaline of his proximity. "If the bond is so perfect, Kaelen, why are you dying? Why does her touch make you sick? Why are you here, with me, pressing me against a window, instead of with her?"
Kaelen stared at me. The truth was right there, staring him in the face. But his pride—his Alpha pride—wouldn't let him accept it. To accept it meant he had been fooled. It meant he had failed.
"Be careful, Elara," he warned, his voice low. "You are playing a dangerous game."
"I’m not playing," I whispered. I reached out, my hand trembling, and placed it on his chest, right over his pounding heart.
"Does this feel like a game?"
My palm touched his shirt. The spark flared.
Kaelen gasped. His eyes rolled back for a second, his control shattering.
He grabbed my hand, pressing it harder against his heart.
"Damn you," he cursed.
And then, he crashed his mouth onto mine.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a collision. It was hunger, anger, and desperation all wrapped into one. He devoured me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, claiming me, tasting me.
I melted. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. This was it. The spark ignited into a bonfire.
He groaned into my mouth, his hands sliding down my back to grip my hips. He lifted me effortlessly, pressing me higher against the glass. I wrapped my legs around his waist.
For a moment, there was no Seraphina. No curse. No lies. Just Kaelen and me.
He broke the kiss, gasping for air, his forehead resting against mine.
"You taste…" He shuddered. "You taste like her. Like the woman in my dreams."
He moved his hand up my thigh, his fingers brushing the hem of the dress. He was going to take me. Right here against the window. And I was going to let him.
But then, his phone buzzed.
It was loud in the silent room.
Kaelen ignored it. He went to kiss me again.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
It wouldn't stop.
With a feral snarl, Kaelen reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. He looked at the screen.
His face went pale. The lust evaporated, replaced by a cold, hard shock.
He slowly lowered me to the ground. He stepped back, staring at the phone.
"What is it?" I whispered, straightening my dress, my lips still tingling from his kiss.
He looked up at me. His eyes were wide with horror.
"It’s the Pack Hospital," he said, his voice hollow. "Seraphina… she collapsed."
My blood ran cold.
"She’s in critical condition," Kaelen whispered, the phone shaking in his hand. "They say… they say she was poisoned."
He looked at me. The accusation was back in his eyes. The suspicion.
"I was with you," I said quickly. "I didn't touch her."
"But you made her tea this morning," he said. His voice was turning hard again. The wall was going back up. "Before we left. You made her tea."
"Kaelen, no…"
He pocketed the phone. The Alpha was back. The lover was gone.
"We have to go," he said coldly, refusing to look at me. "If she dies… and if they find traces of wolfsbane in that tea…"
He walked to the elevator, hitting the button.
"Pray that she lives, Elara. Because if she doesn't, I won't be able to save you from the executioner."