[ AYSEL ]
After a brief pause, Freya lets out a sharp, mocking scoff and steps closer to Maelis, arms folded across her chest. Her glare is fierce enough to shoot daggers.
“And who the f**k do you think you are,” she hisses, “to believe you can demand the King’s presence over menial affairs like this?”
Ohhh, this doesn’t look good. I better end this confrontation before it escalates.
But Maelis doesn’t flinch or look the least intimidated.
“Take my advice,” Maelis says calmly before I can move my feet. A sly smirk tugs at her lips. “You’re just a consort. Don’t forget the King can discard you whenever he chooses. And if there’s one thing we all know he despises above all else, it’s injustice. Bullying.” Her smirk widens, eyes taking in Freya’s frame. “You’ve been here the longest. You should know better, Lady Freya.”
Freya’s nostrils flare. I can tell instantly that those words hit a nerve.
Before this explodes any further, I rush to Maelis’ side and grip her arm gently. “Please. Let’s go,” I murmur. “That’s enough.”
She hesitates, stubbornly holding Freya’s gaze like she’s daring her to say one more word. But after a tense second, she finally allows herself to be pulled away.
Once we’re outside the boutique and by the roadside, Maelis jerks her arm free and rounds on me, her expression hard with frustration.
“How can you just stand there and let them treat you like that, Aysel?”
I let out a slow breath, forcing the tension out of my chest. “Trust me, Maelis, there’s no one in the entire pack who wants to smack those women as much as I want to. The only thing stopping me is common sense, and survival.”
She opens her mouth, ready to argue, but I don’t give her the chance. I reach for her hands gently instead, steering us away from that conversation.
My gaze drifts over her again, really looking this time.
“You look stunning,” I say, my lips curving. “Seems your Alpha is treating you very well.”
The fire in her eyes melts instantly into a bright, wicked smile, like she wasn’t just seconds away from clawing someone’s face off.
“That Alpha,” she whispers, leaning in like she’s sharing a secret, “is hot as f**k. When he touched me last night, I swear I saw stars. Maybe even the moon.” She bites her lip, color flooding her cheeks. “I think I might already have a massive crush on him.”
“No way,” I gasp, laughing. “That fast?”
“It wasn’t planned,” she laughs too, eyes drifting upward, dreamy. “He’s just… gods, Aysel. Perfect.”
As if suddenly remembering I’m still here, her gaze snaps back, curious. She lifts a brow as a teasing smile spreads across her face. “So? What about you? Did you enjoy yourself with the Lycan King last night?”
My stomach squeezes tight at that question. My thoughts spin. I should lie. I should laugh it off. I should…
Wait a minute…
An idea suddenly flashes through my mind like a lightbulb and a smile creeps onto my lips as I stare at her. Hope sparks in my chest.
Maelis frowns, clearly unsettled by the way I’m looking at her.
I step closer. She steps back.
I grab her arms before she can retreat again.
“Teach me,” I say, desperacy in my tone as I whisper. “Teach me how to make love to a man. How to please him the way no other woman has before.”
Her confusion deepens, eyes searching my face. Before she can speak, I rush on, words tumbling out.
“He didn’t touch me,” I admit. “The Lycan King. He said I have a week to learn seduction. To prepare myself before he claims me.” I soften my voice, lips pressing into a small pout. “You don’t want him throwing me away and handing me over to those cruel soldiers… do you?”
She blinks twice. Then she slaps my arm.
“Ouch!” I hiss, yanking back.
“You have a one-week ultimatum,” she snaps, eyes wide, “and you didn’t think to find me immediately?”
“I didn’t know where you were!” I protest. “I’m new here, remember? I honestly thought I’d never see you again.”
She pauses, head tilting as she considers it. Then she sighs and pulls me into her side, arm draping over my shoulders.
“Alright. Fair.” She squeezes me. “Sorry, love.”
Anyone watching us now would think we’ve been friends forever. The thought startles me. She’s my first real friend. And for someone who’s spent her life shrinking, hiding, and surviving… standing here like this feels unreal.
“Relax,” she says. “I’ll teach you everything. Every the tricks and moves of a seductress. All those delicious bedroom… activities.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I have no idea how she says such things so easily.
She pulls out her phone. “I’ll give you my number. Call me when you’re ready.”
“I don’t have a phone yet.” I mumble.
She stares. “Aysel. Ask for one. Immediately. You’re too soft for your own good.” Then she exhales. “Fine. Find a way to contact Alpha Kaelor’s residence from the packhouse. We’ll arrange when and where the lessons start.”
Lessons.
I swallow.
“I should go,” she adds, glancing at her phone. “I only came out for quick shopping.” That dreamy blush returns. “The Alpha wants me in his chambers today.”
“I get it,” I cut in quickly. “Spare me the details.”
She laughs. Then her gaze drifts back to the boutique, the glass reflecting an empty space where Freya and Raquel once stood.
“Vile witches,” she mutters before looking back at me. “How are you getting back? Want my chauffeur to take you?”
Before I can answer, a sleek black limousine glides to a stop in front of us, followed by two identical cars.
The tinted window slides down.
My entire body freeze that instant.
Lycan King Raegon’s sharp profile comes into view, dark eyes locking onto mine with frightening ease. I don’t even notice Maelis bow until she’s already doing it.
“What are you doing out here alone?” he asks, voice smooth and dangerous. “Where’s your ride?”
My legs threaten to give out.
“I—I went shopping,” I manage. “Maelis was going to take me back—”
“Get in.”
Quietly, I obey.
I walk straight to the limousine as the guard beside the chauffeur steps out and opens the door for me. Before it shuts, I lift my hand and make a quick I’ll-call-you sign to Maelis just as she straightens again.
She nods once in understanding, just before the door closes and seals me inside.
The inside of the limousine is dark and elegant with black leather seats, polished wood and soft lights that glow low. Everything about it feels expensive and powerful, a reminder of the new world I’ve found myself in.
I slide into the seat farthest from the Lycan King, leaving a careful gap between us. My hands rest stiffly in my lap, my anxiety as high as it’s always been whenever I’m around him.
The drive passes in silence, and throughout the ride, I keep my eyes glued to the window, forcing myself not to look at him.
Not at the sharp cut of his jaw, or at the quiet authority rolling off him. Or even at the scent of his cologne that wraps around me like a brewing danger.
Instead, I focus on the busy streets outside. Anything to keep my thoughts from drifting where they shouldn’t.
Too soon, the car slows and packhouse gates open. The limousine rolls to a stop in front of the mansion.
This time, I have no choice but to turn toward him. My fingers close around the door handle as I bow my head, careful not to lift my gaze and meet his.
“Thank you for the ride, my king,” I say quickly.
I try to leave just as fast, but I don’t get the chance.
His hand immediately closes around mine firmly, stopping me mid-motion. A quiet breath leaves me as I freeze. His brows draw together as his gaze drops, his grip shifting just enough for him to turn my hand over.
He’s staring at the scar on my arm.
Heat floods me at once, my body tensing as if I’ve been caught naked. He doesn’t look away, eyes steadily inspecting the scar with sharp focus.
“How did you get this scar?” he asks as his gaze lifts, intimidating silver-gray eyes locking onto mine.
“Who did this to you?”
I draw in a slow breath, forcing it to steady even as panic crawls under my skin.
There’s no chance in hell that I'm telling him the truth. That it was Valerie who’d pulled burning firewood from the flames and seared into me at fifteen, for daring to ask for what was mine.
That scar has lived hidden beneath long sleeves for years. I don’t know how he managed to see it in the first place. But one thing I know is that from the dangerous calmness of his face and the ice chillness of his voice, Valerie would be dead meat if I told Raegon the truth.
And as much as I hate her with every fiber of my being for treating me like than a person, wishing death on her isn’t on my list.
So instead, I school my face into calm and a thin, careful smile settles on my lips, though his grip still burns warm around my wrist.
“It’s nothing, my king,” I say. “Just a small kitchen accident.”
But Raegon doesn’t release me.
His eyes stay on my arm unmoving, as though the scar might confess the truth if he stares long enough. When I expect him to let go, he tilts his head instead, studying it closer. The air thickens around us.
“That is not the mark of an accident,” he says at last, voice low and certain. “Fire meant to harm leaves scars like this. Deep. Lingering. It brands the skin with the intent to leave terrible memories.”
Slowly, his gaze lifts to mine.
There is no softness in his face or any hint of humor. It scares the s**t out of me.
“Do you know why my consorts are respected?” He asks quietly.
I swallow and shake my head, unsure if he even wants an answer.
“Because they are untouchable,” he continues.
His thumb moves then, brushing lightly and slowly over the healed scar. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, and it sends a sharp, unwanted spark straight through me. I hold still and struggle not to flinch away.
“They are my queens,” he doesn’t bat an eye. And I do not tolerate anyone who harms what belongs to me. Not even if it’s in the past. I do not forgive easily, little one.”
He pauses, watching me closely, as if trying to find the littlest cracks in my expression.
Then his voice drops even lower.
“I despise lies,” he says. “So answer me carefully.”
His grip tightens just a fraction.
“Who. Did. This. To. You?”