Chapter 5
1095 Words
Kairo’s POV
The drums of celebration were deafening.
Laughter echoed through the great hall, bouncing off stone walls gilded in gold and crimson. The scent of roasted meat and spiced wine wafted heavily in the air, mixing with the musk of sweat and fire. Warriors clashed tankards, women danced in silks, and my people rejoiced as if this night marked the beginning of eternal glory.
In their eyes, it did.
We had defeated our enemies. Taken their land. Claimed their royals as prisoners. And I, King Kairo of the Dranoxen Pack, had brought them this triumph.
But I felt no pride.
Not tonight.
Not with the weight in my chest that refused to lift, no matter how much wine I drank or how many cheers rose in my name.
Because I knew what was coming next.
And I knew who I would see.
The celebrations always ended this way. With the spoils. The tradition went back generations—after victory, the warriors were rewarded with slaves. And the king always chose first.
I knew it. I accepted it. I had participated before.
But tonight… tonight was different.
Because she was among them.
Selene.
I leaned back in my throne, fingers gripping the carved wooden armrests so tightly I thought they’d c***k. My jaw clenched as I waited.
Then the doors opened.
A hush fell across the hall as the maidens were led in.
I tried to steel myself.
Tried to remain the king—calm, dominant, heartless.
But the moment I saw her, that armor shattered.
She walked slowly behind the others, her body wrapped in those thin scraps of cloth our guards had forced them into. She wasn’t the fierce warrior I remembered from the past moons. Not the confident princess who once laughed freely with me under the moonlight.
No.
She looked fragile.
Exhausted.
Broken.
But her eyes… gods, her eyes still burned with fire.
When she looked at me, I felt the full force of her hatred hit me like a spear. It carved through my soul. She didn’t need to scream. Didn’t need to speak. Her glare told me everything.
“You did this to us.”
And she was right.
She was completely, painfully right.
My throat went dry. My mind screamed at me—this is what you signed up for, this is what they did to your parents, this is justice. But justice was supposed to feel right. Not like this.
And still, I did nothing.
Because I couldn’t.
Because I was the king.
And a king must always please his people.
Always.
Even if it means crushing the heart he never meant to have.
As she stood in the line with the others, a guard approached me. “My king, it is time.”
The hall went silent again.
Every man’s eyes were on me.
Tradition dictated that I choose first. I was expected to select one of the women as my personal spoil of war, my prize for leading them to victory. A simple gesture, yet one that shaped public pride and perception. Refusing would stir doubt. Make me look weak.
I glanced over them again.
The women were trembling, some keeping their heads bowed in submission, others fighting back tears.
And then there was Selene.
Her chin was raised. Her body might be weak, but her spirit still stood tall.
Still defiant.
Still royal.
Why the hell did it have to be her?
Because you chose her long ago, my mind whispered.
Because even when you were sent to destroy her people, you couldn’t stop staring at her. Couldn’t stop wanting her. Couldn’t stop loving her.
Love.
I scoffed internally.
I wasn’t supposed to feel that.
I was trained to hate. Trained to avenge.
Since I was eighteen, my life had been carved around one purpose—to take down the Mooncrest Pack for what they did to my parents. I was sent into their territory to spy, to blend in, to sow weakness. Falling for their princess was never part of the plan.
But the plan never stood a chance against her smile. Her fire. Her stubborn kindness.
I betrayed her. Because it was my duty. Because my people needed justice. Because revenge blinded me so deeply I didn’t realize I was ripping my own heart apart.
But when the guard gestured again, asking me to choose, I didn’t hesitate.
“I’ll take her,” I said, my voice sharp. Unapologetic.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
They expected me to choose the most obedient, the prettiest, the one most eager to please. Not the defiant princess who would rather stab me than serve me.
But I saw how some of the other warriors were already eyeing her. With hunger in their eyes. Like she was meat waiting to be devoured.
And I couldn’t bear that.
I couldn’t let anyone else touch her.
I couldn’t share her.
Even if I no longer had any right to her at all.
She stepped forward as the guards moved to escort her toward me. Her eyes didn’t leave mine. She didn’t cry. Didn’t beg.
But the hatred… the raw betrayal in her expression… it tore through me.
She hated me with every part of her.
And she should.
I had earned it.
I had buried the love we could have had beneath blood and lies.
But still, I chose her.
Not because I wanted to hurt her further.
Not because of power.
But because if anyone else took her… I would lose what little soul I had left.
The moment she was led up the steps toward the throne, I felt my heart hammering. Faster. Harder. Like it wanted to break out of my chest and throw itself at her feet, begging for forgiveness.
She stopped in front of me, refusing to bow. Her back straight. Her body trembling, but her eyes… her eyes refused to surrender.
The warriors roared in support behind me, cheering the king for choosing the most stubborn prize.
But all I could hear was my heartbeat.
My mind screamed.
You love her. But you won’t admit it.
I clenched my fists.
Okay, fine. I love her. I f*****g love her. But what good does that do now?
I couldn’t fix this.
I couldn’t undo what I did.
And love was not enough.
I had duties. I had an entire kingdom that looked to me for strength. Weakness meant war. Doubt meant rebellion. A king’s heart didn’t belong to himself—it belonged to the crown.
Even if mine was bleeding for her.
- Writer
