Chapter 9: twenty questions and three out of one
2155 Words
Callum leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable but his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
“Very well,” he said smoothly. “I’ll start.”
He tapped one gloved finger against the table.
“First question. What’s the one thing you fear most?”
Straight to the jugular. Of course.
I hesitated, pretending to think, though my pulse had already answered for me.
“Losing control,” I said softly. “Over myself, over my choices, over everything I’ve fought to become.”
He studied me—gaze sharp but not unkind. “Honest. Brave.” His lips curved faintly. “Your turn.”
“What do you fear most, Prince Callum?”
His smile faded, voice dropping low. “Peace.”
That one word hit like a whisper of thunder.
Before I could ask, he continued, “Because when peace comes, weapons are no longer needed. And without weapons, I cease to matter.”
Rose hummed in my mind. ‘He’s lonely in the way soldiers are—when the battle ends, so does the purpose.’
“Second question,” he said, cutting through my thoughts.
“What is your greatest strength?”
“Adaptation,” I replied. “Even when I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He chuckled lowly. “I’ve noticed.”
“My turn. Why the heart-shaped garden?”
“It’s the only place the guards won’t follow,” he answered simply. “And because I like to test the courage of those who sit with me here. The heart is not a symbol of love—it’s a symbol of exposure.”
A chill ran through me. He was terrifyingly poetic.
“Third question,” he murmured, leaning closer, “what do you think of me?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Too early to tell. You might be my favorite… or my mistake.”
His laughter was quiet but real. “Fair. Your turn.”
“Do you ever fall for anyone, or just study them?”
His lips quirked upward. “Both. Falling is simply a different kind of analysis.”
The air between us thickened; the night wind brushed the trees, carrying the sweet scent of red and blue flowers— dizzying and dangerous.
Callum’s gaze lingered on me.
“Fourth question. What’s one thing you’ve never told anyone… but wish someone already knew?”
“That I’m tired of being admired,” he said, answering his own before I could ask. “Admiration is easy. It demands nothing real. Understanding…” He paused. “That’s the rare kind of intimacy no one ever offers.”
My chest tightened, the honesty of it shaking something loose inside me.
He leaned forward, green eyes glinting. “Your turn.”
“What’s one thing you want, Princess Mishka, that you know you shouldn’t?”
The answer—freedom—burned on my tongue, but I swallowed it down.
“Another game,” I said instead. “Something that doesn’t come with rules.”
Callum’s lips quirked. “Careful. I’m very good at games… and even better at breaking the rules.”
“Fifth question,” he said after a heartbeat. “What kind of woman are you?”
He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle only he could solve. “A mystery,” he said. “Someone wearing silk over scars. You walk like you’re learning your own steps again, and yet you pretend it’s deliberate.”
Too close.
I laughed softly to hide the tension. “That’s quite the observation.”
“Accurate, though?” he pressed.
“Close enough to earn a point.”
“Then my turn,” he said. “What’s your biggest flaw?”
“I see people as weapons or weaknesses,” he confessed. “I haven’t yet decided which you are.”
Rose’s voice curled through my thoughts like smoke. ‘He’s sharper than most, Mishka. Careful what you reveal next.’
“Maybe I’m both,” I replied.
That earned a smile—slow, deliberate, dangerous. “Then you’ll be the first woman to survive being both.”
“Seventh question,” he said, his tone quieter now. “What are you hiding?”
I froze. The flowers, the wind, even Rose went silent.
Inside, she whispered urgently. ‘Don’t you dare tell him. Not yet.’
I smiled. “Wouldn’t you rather ask something easier? Like my favorite color?”
He arched a brow, amused. “Consider that question deferred.”
“Good,” I said lightly. “Because it’s pink.”
He chuckled. “Fitting. You burn bright enough to draw attention even when you’re trying not to.”
“Eighth question,” I countered quickly, “what’s something no one else knows about you?”
“That I play these games to test others,” he admitted, “but this time, I think I’m the one being tested.”
Rose purred with approval. ‘Smart wolf. Dangerous man.’
“Ninth question,” he said, leaning in, “what do you dream about when no one’s watching?”
I hesitated, whispering, “Being seen… without having to explain myself.”
His expression softened—just a flicker, but enough to make my breath catch.
“Your turn,” I said quickly. “What’s your dream?”
He smiled faintly. “To build something that outlives me. Even if I don’t live to see it.”
“Tenth question,” he said, voice low. “Have you ever been in love?”
I blinked. “Not the kind that lasts. What about you?”
He shrugged. “Once. I killed it with honesty.”
I wonder who or what that was. The air grew still. We both smiled, but it didn’t reach our eyes.
“Eleventh question,” I said, “why do you keep calling me Princess instead of Mishka?”
“Because you wear your crown like armor. And I’m curious who you are when you set it down.”
I looked away, uneasy. “And what if I never do?”
“Then I’ll keep testing your defenses until I find the woman underneath.”
“Twelfth question,” he said suddenly, “do you believe in fate?”
I glanced toward the stars. “I used to. Now I think fate’s just another excuse for bad decisions.”
He smiled knowingly. “Then maybe I’m your worst decision yet.”
“Thirteenth,” I said, fighting the blush rising in my cheeks. “If you weren’t a prince, what would you be?”
He thought about it for a long moment. “A thief,” he said. “Stealing back all the time and peace that power’s taken from me.”
“Fourteenth question,” he said, “what would you be, if you could start over?”
I swallowed. “Alive,” I said softly.
His smile faded; the air turned heavy again. “You already are.”
Rose hummed gently, ‘Barely.’
“Fifteenth,” I said quickly, “what do you think happens after death?”
He looked at me for a long time. “You meet yourself again. The version you ran from.”
My breath hitched.
“Sixteenth,” he continued, not giving me time to recover. “What do you crave most?”
I almost said truth. Instead, I whispered, “Touch.”
His gaze darkened. “Honest answer. Dangerous one.”
“Seventeenth,” I said, “what would you do if the woman you loved wasn’t who she seemed?”
He smiled sadly. “Love her anyway. But I’d never stop looking for who she really was.”
Rose’s voice coiled tight. ‘He’ll find out if you keep staring at him like that.’
“Eighteenth,” he murmured, “what’s your wolf like?”
“She’s… smarter than me,” I admitted. “And annoyingly right.”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “That I believe.”
“Nineteenth,” I asked, “why me?”
“Because you look like the end of something… and the beginning of something I shouldn’t want.”
The final question hung between us, silent and heavy as the night itself.
“Twentieth,” he said at last. “Will I see you again after tonight?”
My heart thudded once, hard. “If fate decides,” I whispered.
He leaned closer, voice a murmur only I could hear.
“Then I hope fate is cruel enough to keep you near.”
Rose’s voice echoed softly in my mind as he rose to leave. ‘You played well, Mishka. But he’s not your danger—he’s your reflection.’
And as his figure disappeared beyond the garden, I wasn’t sure if I’d just won the game… or lost something far more dangerous.
Taking my dress in hand as I rose to follow Callum, I could still feel the weight of the questions lingering in the air. Each one had peeled something open inside me—something I wasn’t sure I could close again.
I barely took a step before I heard a familiar voice from my left.
“Seems you really did change who you once were,” Cassian said, his tone edged with suspicion. “I truly wonder now if you are who you say you are… or if you simply look like the original Mishka.”
His words struck like a whip, stealing my breath.
Rose growled low in my mind, her anger curling through me like static. ‘He’s calling you a fraud, Mishka. An insult to both of us.’
My heart thudded. Was he right? Or did he just see too much?
Rose’s tone sharpened, commanding.
‘He will meet me soon enough and learn his ungrateful place. But not today. For now, say this: “Tomorrow, you may direct those accusations to my wolf. Seeing is believing, after all, since words mean so little to you.”’
The sharpness in her voice made my throat go dry. I didn’t want to repeat it, but I knew if I didn’t, she’d take control and speak through me anyway.
Inhaling, I turned toward Cassian—only to be startled by a voice from my right.
“Seems tomorrow morning, you could be the first to meet her wolf on a nice swim at the royal pool,” Carter interrupted with a grin that practically gleamed mischief. “Tell you what, Cassian—I’ll even join you. I’ll bring her the colorful grapes before her swim. You know, just to see who’s bluffing.”
I jumped so hard I lost my footing, landing flat on my rear with an undignified thud.
Rose chuckled in my head, ‘Smooth landing, Princess,’ while Carter bit his lip to keep from laughing outright.
Cassian’s expression darkened, though his smirk didn’t fade. “You really think this is a game, Carter?”
“Everything’s a game if you know how to play,” Carter shot back, his tone honeyed with challenge.
Colorful grapes? I frowned, rubbing the soreness from my backside. Rose’s voice cut through my thoughts, no longer amused.
‘That fruit exposes magic, Mishka. If someone’s consumed a potion to hide their wolf—or a false identity—it forces the truth to surface. It won’t harm me, but it could reveal you if years asked to you not me. It’ll make your soul shimmer differently, show that you’re not the same Mishka they remember.’
I froze, dread chilling me. ‘You mean… it could expose me?’
‘Yes,’ she said grimly. ‘And if they realize what you truly are, they could call it deceit—grounds for execution, or worse… war. And a fake depending on the color showing. And only Carter knows these details.’
Before I could respond, both princes stiffened. Their attention shifted toward the garden gates as the light around us dimmed into the deep gold of sunset.
That’s when I saw him—
the third man, stepping from the shadow between the trees.
He didn’t walk like the others. He glided. His presence bled power, raw and ancient, the air bending faintly around him. The dusk light caught on his silver eyes—eyes that were too bright, too sharp, too alive. His hair, dark as ink, reflected streaks of violet when the sun touched it.
Even from where I stood, I could feel it—his strength.
It wasn’t like the wolves I’d met before. His aura wasn’t heat and flame; it was cold fire, unyielding, dangerous.
Rose went silent in my mind for a moment before whispering, almost reverently, ‘That’s him, Mishka. Prince Charles—the Lycan King’s heir. The one who isn’t supposed to exist.’
My blood ran cold as his gaze met mine.
And for the first time since waking up in this strange new world, I realized what true fear felt like.
- Writer
