Lycan King's Forbidden Obsession

The Frozen River

Serena's pov

Three days passed after Camila's warning, and I could not stop thinking about her words.

"He will destroy you. Not because he wants to, but because he does not know how not to." They echoed in my head every time I closed my eyes, they followed me through the halls, and they sat beside me in the silence of my room.

But Alejandro had stayed. He had put his hand on my back, he had lain beside me, and he had not left even when I fell asleep. That was not nothing. That was something I had never had before, and I did not want to let it go. Every time I started to doubt him, I remembered the warmth of his hand and the low rumble of his voice when he said, "I do not know how to be good, but I am trying."

The castle had started to feel less like a prison and more like a place where I might eventually belong. The nobles still whispered when I walked past, and Felipe still smiled with those cold golden eyes, but something had shifted. The guards no longer watched me with the same suspicion, and Diego had stopped glaring every time our paths crossed. I even caught him nodding at me once. It was just a small dip of his head, but I saw it.

I was walking through the courtyard when I heard the screaming.

It was high, sharp and full of panic, and it came from the direction of the frozen river that ran along the eastern edge of the castle grounds. I turned, and saw a group of servants gathered at the water's edge, and they were pointing, shouting and running in circles like ants whose nest had been disturbed.

Then I saw the boy.

He was small, maybe eight years old, with dark hair and pale skin, and he had fallen through the ice. His arms were flailing, his head kept disappearing beneath the surface, and his screams were getting weaker with every second that passed. The water was dark and churning, and the ice around him was cracked and sharp. I could see the fear in his wide eyes.

The guards stood at the edge of the river, and they did not move. The nobles stood behind them, and they did not move. Everyone just stood there, frozen, like they were watching a performance they could not interrupt.

"The water is too cold," one of the guards said. His voice was flat, and his arms were crossed over his chest. "Even for a Lycan, that water will kill in minutes. He is already dead."

"We cannot risk it," another guard said, and he shook his head slowly. "The cold will kill anyone who goes in. There is no point in sending more bodies to the bottom."

I looked at the boy, and his head went under again. His hand reached up, just for a moment, and then it disappeared beneath the surface.

In that moment, I did not think.

I just ran.

My boots pounded against the frozen ground, my breath came in sharp gasps, and my heart pounded in my chest so hard that I thought it might break through my ribs. The wind whipped past my face, the cold air burned my lungs, and I could hear the guards shouting behind me, but I did not stop.

The boy's head went under again, and this time, it did not come back up.

I reached the edge of the river, and I did not hesitate. I dove into the water, and the cold hit me like a wall of ice. I could not breathe. The shock of it stole the air from my lungs, my body seized up, and the darkness pressed against the edges of my vision. My skin felt like it was on fire, my muscles cramped, and my heart stuttered in my chest.

I turned around, searching for the boy. The freezing water did not make it easy for me, but I saw him below. I felt the cold grabbing me with full force, but the good thing was that I could see the boy. He was sinking, his eyes were closed, and his arms were limp at his sides. His dark hair floated around his head like seaweed, and his jacket was billowing in the water, and he looked so small, so fragile, and so young.

I kicked my legs, pushed through the water, and I reached for him. My fingers brushed against his jacket, and I grabbed hold, and pulled him toward me. His body was cold, so cold, and his lips were blue. His skin was pale already, and I could not tell if he was breathing.

I kicked again, and I pushed toward the surface. I broke through the ice with my shoulder, and the cold air hit my face. I gasped, and dragged the boy onto the ice. His body was limp, his chest was not moving, and I pressed my ear to his mouth.

But I heard nothing.

I rolled him onto his side, hit his back, and water poured from his lips. I hit him once, twice, three times. I hit him again harder, and more water came out, and then he coughed. His chest rose, his eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at me with confusion and fear and relief all tangled together.

The servants were shouting now, the guards were running toward me, and someone was screaming for a healer. But I did not hear any of it. I just held the boy against my chest, felt his heart beating, and I knew he was alive.

Then the cold caught up with me fully. My body started shaking, my teeth started chattering, and my hands went numb. The world tilted, the sky spun, and I could not feel my fingers anymore. My vision blurred, my ears rang, and I felt myself slipping.

I heard boots on the ice.

I looked up, and Alejandro was there.

His golden eyes were wide, his face was pale, and his hands were shaking as he knelt beside me. He looked at the boy, and he looked at me, and his jaw tightened. His chest was heaving, like he had been running, and I realized that he must have felt me through the bond.

"You could have died," he said. His voice was low and rough, and there was something in it that I had never heard before. Fear.

I looked down at the boy in my arms. His eyes were closed now, but his chest was rising and falling, and his skin was starting to warm. His small hand was clutching my shirt, and he was holding on like I was the only thing keeping him from falling back into that dark water.

"He is a child," I whispered. My voice came out weak and shaky, barely loud enough to hear.

Alejandro did not speak. He just reached down, and he lifted me, and the boy altogether into his arms, and he carried me away from the river. His arms were warm around me, his chest was solid against my back, and I could feel his heart pounding.

The boy was taken from my arms by a healer, and I heard someone say that he would be fine, that he was young and strong, and that he would recover. His mother was crying, and she was thanking me, and her voice was broken with relief.

But I did not see any of it. I just felt Alejandro's arms around me, and I felt the cold seeping into my bones, and I felt my eyes closing.

"No," Alejandro said. His voice was sharp. "Stay awake."

I tried to open my eyes, but they were too heavy, and the darkness was pulling at me.

"Serena." His voice cracked. "Stay awake."

I felt him walking faster, and I felt the warmth of the castle as we passed through the doors, and I felt the heat of the fire as he carried me into my room. He laid me on the bed, and he pulled the blankets around me, but he did not let go.

His hands were on my face, his golden eyes were burning into mine, and his jaw was tight. His fingers were warm against my cold skin, and I could see the fear in his eyes, raw and unguarded.

"You could have died," he said again. His voice was shaking.

"But I did not," I said.

Alejandro closed his eyes, as his forehead dropped to mine, and his breath was warm on my lips. He stayed there for a long moment, and I could feel his heart pounding against my chest.

"Do not ever do that again," he said.

I did not answer. I just lay there, shaking, cold and alive. I felt his hands on my face, and his warmth seeping into my skin.

And for the first time since I arrived at this castle, I did not feel like a sacrifice.

I felt like someone worth saving.