chapter 13
829 Words
Selene's POV
For days now, everything felt... different.
And not in the way I expected.
After the night I gave myself to Kairo, I thought something would shift between us. Maybe not love, but something warmer than silence. Something softer than avoidance. But what I got instead was... distance. A cold wall I hadn’t expected, one I wasn’t prepared for.
He hadn’t called for me once. No commanding voice through the door. No quiet glances across the fire. No stolen moments in the halls. Just silence. Deafening silence.
Each morning, I dressed like I had purpose. I brushed my hair until it shone, wore the least torn of the maid clothes, and even dabbed a little balm on my lips to give them some color. I’d wait at the hallway near his chamber, pretending to be arranging the vases or sweeping a corner that didn’t need sweeping. I kept hoping he’d call for me. That he’d look up, see me, and something would return to his eyes.
But he never looked. Not once.
Sometimes I caught glimpses of him in the distance—passing through the training grounds, his back rigid, his expression unreadable. He’d laugh with his warriors, give orders with calm authority, but never spare me a glance.
I wasn’t sure what hurt more—the betrayal of my people, or the cold indifference of the man I had fallen for.
I told myself I didn’t care. That it didn’t matter.
But each day his silence continued, my heart broke a little more.
It wasn’t love, I told myself. It couldn’t be. Not after everything. Not after what he did. But it felt like something real had bloomed inside me, only to wither before it had the chance to grow.
Sometimes at night, I’d wake up with the ghost of his touch on my skin, the memory of his mouth on mine burning hotter than the moonlight streaming through the window. I’d shiver—not from cold, but from the ache of wanting something I knew I could never have again.
I sat beneath the window ledge in my tiny servant quarters, my knees drawn to my chest. The evening breeze drifted in, cool and sharp, brushing against my skin. I hadn’t realized tears were falling until I tasted salt.
"You're crying again," Olna's voice broke the silence as she stepped into the room with a worn cloth in her hand. Her dark eyes scanned my face with quiet knowing.
"I’m not," I whispered, wiping quickly at my cheeks.
"You are. You've been trying to hide it for days."
I looked away.
Olna moved closer, sitting beside me on the hard floor. Her presence was calm, grounding, the only stable thing in this place.
"You can tell me, Selene," she said gently. "Did he hurt you? Again?"
"No," I shook my head quickly. "He... he didn’t touch me. Not once since that night."
Olna blinked. "Then what’s wrong?"
I hesitated.
Because how could I explain it without sounding foolish? How could I put into words the way my heart twisted every time he passed without a word? The way I waited like a fool, hoping the Alpha would want me again?
"I thought..." I started, then stopped.
Olna waited.
"I thought that after that night, things would be different. That maybe he would... look at me differently. Treat me differently. But he doesn’t. He’s just shut me out completely. Like I don’t exist."
Olna was quiet for a long time. Then she reached over, brushed a strand of hair from my face.
"Selene," she said softly, "men like him... men raised for power, raised for vengeance... they don’t know what to do with softness. They take what they want, then run from what they feel."
"But he’s not supposed to feel anything for me," I whispered. "I’m the daughter of his enemy."
"And yet you both let your walls down that night."
My throat tightened. "He regrets it."
"Maybe," Olna said, "or maybe he’s afraid. Afraid of feeling something that threatens everything he believes."
I stared out the window, where the moon was just beginning to rise. "It doesn’t matter. I was stupid to hope."
"You weren’t stupid. You were human."
I leaned my head on her shoulder. She wrapped an arm around me and let me cry, silently, into the crook of her neck.
Later that night, after Olna had gone to her own room, I remained by the window. Watching. Waiting.
But the hallway stayed empty.
And Kairo never came.
The next morning, I stood at the door of his chamber with a tray of tea I wasn’t asked to bring. My hands trembled slightly as I knocked.
There was no answer.
I waited. Five seconds. Ten.
Still nothing.
I left the tray there and walked away slowly, every step heavier than the last.
He wasn’t just avoiding me. He was erasing me.
And I didn’t know how much more of that I could take.
- Writer
