CHAPTER 10 — The Room He Shouldn’t Have Shown Me
1865 Words
The walk through the palace felt different this time.
Maybe it was the silence—the heavy, layered kind that held warning underneath. Or maybe it was the way he walked just slightly ahead of me, his grip firm around my wrist, guiding me through dimly lit corridors with a possessiveness that made my breath stumble.
I could tell he was angry. Not the explosive kind of anger—but the colder, quieter version. The one that simmered. The one that meant something had pushed him too close to a line he didn’t want to cross.
Or maybe it was just me crossing that line without meaning to.
We passed windows of black glass, tall stone archways, portraits of kings whose eyes followed me too closely. The deeper we went, the less the palace felt like a living place… and the more it felt like a beast with a thousand watching eyes.
“Where are we going?” I asked again.
He didn’t slow. “Somewhere safer.”
“You keep saying that, but you’re dragging me deeper into the palace. How is that safer?”
“Because no wolf with half a brain would follow me here.”
That didn’t reassure me.
At all.
“And why is that?”
He stopped walking.
For a second, only our breaths filled the silence—the low hum of torches, the cold kiss of stone walls.
Then he turned to me.
“Because this wing is where I keep the things that are too dangerous to exist.”
My blood ran cold.
Too dangerous.
To exist.
“And you want to put me here?” I whispered.
His jaw tightened. “No. I want to keep you away from everything else here.”
“How is that any better?”
He stepped closer, gaze hard. “Because you need protection.”
“And you think you are the safest place?”
His expression didn’t change—but something in his eyes flickered. A flash of gold. Instinct. Claim. Warning.
“I know I am.”
I swallowed, throat tightening.
He wasn’t lying.
But that didn’t mean I wanted to be locked in some hidden part of the palace like an artifact. Or worse—like something he didn’t trust.
He began walking again, slower this time, as if giving me a moment to think. I kept pace, my wrist still warm from his touch even though he’d let go.
Finally, he stopped in front of a tall door carved with old sigils and symbols I couldn’t recognize. The wood was blackened, reinforced with thick metal bands that looked like they belonged in a vault, not a bedroom or office.
“What is this place?” I asked quietly.
He hesitated.
Actually hesitated.
Then—
“It’s where I keep knowledge,” he said. “Truths. Records. Histories too dangerous to leave in the open.”
“So it’s a library?”
His eyes held mine. “No. It’s a vault.”
A cold knot tightened in my chest.
Before I could speak, he placed his hand against the door. The sigils glowed faint amber beneath his palm, reacting to his touch.
And then—
click.
The heavy lock disengaged.
He didn’t push the door open instantly. He stayed still for a moment, studying me with an intensity that made my skin warm.
“Before we go inside,” he murmured, “I need you to understand something.”
My heart beat louder.
“What?”
He stepped closer—close enough that the air between us vibrated with heat.
“What I show you in there is forbidden,” he said. “Not even my generals know what’s kept in this room.”
My pulse kicked.
“Why me?” I whispered.
His eyes burned into mine.
“Because you are the only thing in this palace more forbidden than what’s locked inside.”
My breath caught.
“And you need to know why.”
Then he finally pushed the door open.
A cold breeze washed over us—not normal cold, but ancient cold, the kind that carried whispers instead of air. The room beyond was vast and circular, lined with shelves carved directly into the stone walls, filled with scrolls older than any kingdom.
Torches flared to life as we stepped in.
It wasn’t simply a vault.
It was a tomb of knowledge.
A burial ground of secrets.
He walked ahead, his presence seeming to part the shadows, and I followed warily. At the center of the room stood a stone table etched with sigils I didn’t recognize—but felt. Deep in my bones.
My steps slowed.
The table… hummed.
Quietly.
Softly.
Like something beneath the stone was alive.
“What is this place?” I whispered.
His hand brushed the surface of the table, the sigils glowing faintly under his touch.
“This,” he said, “is where the truth of your bloodline lives.”
My stomach dropped.
“My bloodline?”
“Yes.”
He circled the table and came to stand beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touched.
“This kingdom has records going back thousands of years,” he said. “Kings and queens. Battles. Pacts. Races that walked these lands before wolves even existed.”
I stared at him, breath unsteady. “And… my bloodline is in here?”
“The last known record of it, yes.”
He reached for a compartment beneath the table—a hidden one I didn’t notice until he pressed a sigil that made a small stone drawer slide open.
He pulled out a scroll bound with black ribbon.
It felt heavy even before he opened it.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he unrolled it across the table’s surface.
Symbols.
Words in a language I didn’t understand.
Paintings.
Depictions of creatures with glowing eyes and halos of shadow and light.
At the top of the scroll was a marking—
A spiral within a spiral.
A sigil that felt like it was watching me.
“What is this?” I whispered.
He didn’t look at the scroll.
He looked at me.
“It’s the mark of an Aurelin.”
The word meant nothing.
And yet… something deep inside me trembled violently.
“Aurelin?” I repeated. “What is that?”
He drew in a slow breath. “A race that predated wolves, witches, and fae. Born with power over life and death. Over blood and loyalty. Their presence commanded obedience instinctively—without magic, without force.”
My chest tightened. “Like the way you said the wolves react to me?”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
My legs weakened.
“What happened to them?” I asked.
He exhaled.
“They were hunted,” he said. “Feared. Outnumbered. Destroyed. Every kingdom agreed they were too dangerous to exist.”
I swallowed. “So they were killed?”
“No,” he said. “Exterminated.”
A cold, sharp pain stabbed my spine.
“They died out centuries ago,” he finished. “The last recorded Aurelin was killed over four hundred years ago.”
I stared at the scroll, the spiraled sigil that suddenly felt too familiar.
“And you think I’m… one of them?” I whispered.
His gaze didn’t waver.
“I don’t think,” he said slowly. “I know.”
My breath shook violently.
“That’s impossible.”
He stepped closer, his body cage-like and warm.
“Your aura shifts around you,” he murmured. “Your scent commands submission. Your heartbeat aligns with mine. My wolf reacts to you in ways I have never experienced.”
“Stop,” I whispered, but it came out breathless.
“And most of all…” He lifted a strand of my hair, his fingers brushing my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “Your blood calls to me.”
My knees threatened to give way.
“I’m not some extinct creature,” I said, but even I heard the fear in my voice.
“You are something rare,” he said softly. “Something powerful.”
“And you’re sure?” I whispered. “Absolutely sure?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
My heart hammered painfully.
“And what does that mean?” I asked. “For me?”
His expression darkened.
“It means you are the most valuable—and the most hunted—being in this entire kingdom.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“And for the kingdom?” I whispered. “What does it mean for them?”
His jaw tightened.
“It means war.”
My pulse stuttered.
“Because of me?”
“Because of what you represent,” he corrected. “If word gets out that an Aurelin survived—that the bloodline still exists—every faction will try to claim you. Or kill you.” He looked at me, voice low.
“And I will kill them back.”
My lips parted, stunned.
He moved even closer, his breath brushing my cheek. “Do you understand now why I can’t let you walk freely? Why I can’t risk anyone smelling your aura shift?”
I swallowed, heat rising in my throat. “You’re making me sound like a bomb.”
“You are,” he said simply. “A living bomb with ancient blood.”
My breath trembled out of me.
“Then why show me this?” I whispered. “Why take the risk?”
His eyes softened—dangerously so.
“Because you deserve to know what you are,” he said quietly. “And because I need you to trust me.”
My heart skipped.
“Trust you?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
He reached out and placed his hand gently at the side of my neck—not forcing, just resting there, thumb grazing softly over my skin.
“Because if I’m right,” he murmured, “you are not just Aurelin.”
I froze.
“What… do you mean?”
His thumb brushed my pulse.
“I think you are the last Aurelin heir.”
Air stopped in my lungs.
He didn’t give me time to respond before he leaned closer—so close I felt his breath at my lips.
“And if that’s true,” he whispered, voice lowering to a claim, “you belong to no kingdom but mine.”
My breath hitched.
“And why,” I whispered, “is your kingdom the one I should belong to?”
His eyes burned into mine.
“Because my wolf,” he said, eyes glowing gold, “chose you long before either of us knew what you were.”
Silence.
Thick.
Electric.
He stepped even closer—not touching me, but his presence consuming every inch of space between us.
And then—
He lifted my chin with a single finger.
My heart thundered.
“You ask why you should trust me,” he murmured. “The answer is simple.”
His gaze held me like a vice.
“Because I will kill the world before I let it touch you.”
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