Chapter Three
665 Words
My feet slipped, the marble floor tilting beneath me, and I braced for the fall.
A strong hand seized my forearm and yanked me back against a solid chest.
“Umph.”
My palm landed flat against him. Tingling sparks ran up my arm where he held me, startling and electric.
“Amora, are you all right?” Travian’s voice cut in, sharp with concern as he appeared at my side, eyes flicking between me and the stranger.
“Hm?” I blinked, dazed.
Travian pulled me away from the man’s hold. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?”
“I… I think I’m just a little tired,” I muttered.
I turned from Travian, finally facing the stranger. My apology died in my throat. Heat rushed to my cheeks. My heart faltered and stumbled into a rhythm I couldn’t control.
Piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. A chiseled jaw. Lips firm and unsmiling. He smelled of campfire smoke, rain, and cold night air. Midnight fabric draped over his broad frame, a cloak edged with faint silver catching the torchlight like constellations stitched into shadow.
Travian’s hand tightened protectively around my arm, steadying me. Still, I could not look away. He was a storm contained in flesh, beauty sharpened into peril — and in that instant, I was lost, utterly, unwillingly captivated.
Travian shifted, his stance respectful but firm. “Please excuse my cousin’s clumsiness… you are?”
Silence stretched, thick as a held breath. The stranger did not answer. His eyes burned into me, peeling me open, until it felt as though he saw everything I tried to hide.
It was the man at his side who finally spoke — tall, sharp-featured, clad in dark steel and shadow. His voice rang with authority.
“You stand before Kaelther Morvahm Thanarion, Shadow King of Oblivaryn.”
The title rolled like thunder through the hall, and my breath caught. He had not spoken, yet I felt his power settle over me like a cloak.
Beside me, Travian stiffened. The air itself seemed to thicken. Slowly, he released his hold on me.
“I am Travian of House Calvarith, son of Prince Caelenor, and this is my cousin, Lady Amora,” he said carefully. “Forgive her haste — she was retiring for the evening and did not see where she was going. We mean no disrespect, Your Majesty.”
“No harm done.”
The words came deep and calm, yet final — as though harm had been done, and only he had the power to decide what it meant.
"Please, allow me to escort you to the Alpha King and the Luna Queen. I know they would like to greet you properly and ensure everything that has been arranged is to your liking."
Travian turned to me and, in a hushed voice, he said, "Please retire to your room for the night, you need the rest."
With that, I bowed to the Shadow King: "My apologies again, your Majesty," and bid Travian good night.
In my chambers I sat curled against the window seat, the moonlight pouring over me like silver fire. The castle grounds stretched quiet below, but my heart still raced as if I had never left the great hall. I pressed my palm against the glass, cool against skin that still burned where his hand had caught me. His scent lingered in my memory — smoke and storm and cold night air — and no matter how I tried, I couldn’t breathe him away.
Luna paced inside me, claws raking against the edges of my mind, restless and wild.
Luna, please, I begged her. You’re driving me mad. Tell me what it is. Why won’t you calm down?
Her voice rose through me, steady and fierce now, no longer uncertain. I know who he is.
I froze, my breath misting faintly on the glass. Who?
The answer came like a growl wrapped in reverence. The Shadow King. He is our mate.
- Writer
