When Abigail opened her eyes, the sun was already filtering through the golden linen curtains. Her body lay beneath soft sheets, but the warmth still clung to her skin like a recent, almost indecent memory. She turned her head toward the sofa and discovered that Kilian was no longer there.
For a moment, she felt strangely… empty.
She sat up slowly. Her body complained with small pricks where tension had accumulated, and her neck tingled with a particular warmth. She walked to the mirror, still in her nightgown, and when she saw the dark, reddish mark left by fangs, she let out a low, incredulous laugh.
—Of course, you shameless wolf...
She traced the bite's edge with her fingers. It wasn't bleeding, but it was far from superficial. It was a mark of power, of dominance. A warning to the world. To her world.
Her breath quickened at the memory of what had happened—or almost happened—the night before. Laikan… Kilian's wolf… had been on top of her. And she, asleep, had accepted it. She had wanted it. In those feverish moments of her mind, it wasn't the king touching her… it was Dylan.
The name caught in her throat like poison.
Dylan. Her ex-lover. Her former partner. The bastard who betrayed her—and together with her half-sister, had tried to take everything from her.
Luciana from her previous life had survived that betrayal with clenched teeth and hands stained with vengeance. What were those two doing now? Perhaps sharing a cell in hell. Or worse… a happy marriage.
A light rap on the door pulled her from her thoughts.
—Your Highness? —Liana's voice, soft but nervous—. I brought your breakfast.
—Please, come in.
Liana entered with a steaming tray but froze when she saw Abigail standing at the mirror.
—By the moon…! Your neck, Your Highness...
—What about my neck?
—It's… marked. As if… as if an animal had bitten you.
Abigail turned calmly, picking up the teacup Liana had placed on the table.
—Just a bit of foreplay, nothing more —she replied, sipping the tea casually—. A pup I still need to tame.
The maid watched her with a mixture of astonishment, horror, and fascination.
—A pup?
—Relax, Liana. The man who can tame me hasn't been born yet —Abigail added, her smile enigmatic.
---
Meanwhile, in the east wing of the palace, the King of the North was meeting with the Emperor of Normalia. The throne room had been refitted for a more private discussion, with only a couple of guards and the imperial counselor present.
Kilian stood tall and imposing, his black cloak hanging like a shadow behind him. His dark hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and his jaw remained still as he spoke.
—I am here for three reasons, Your Majesty —he said in a deep voice—: to fulfill the treaty, reaffirm the arranged betrothal, and set clear Northern conditions.
The emperor studied him like a predator in a cage. Tall, muscular, intense—more dangerous than he'd expected, younger too.
—We're listening, King Kilian.
—First, the treaty remains valid, but I will not tolerate external interference in my territory. Any attack on our borders will be considered a direct declaration of war. Second, the betrothal will only proceed with Abigail's consent. I will not take what isn't given freely. And third… —his voice dropped, dark—any harm to my future queen will be punished by my own hand.
The emperor nodded slowly.
—I find that… reasonable.
—I also require private access to the kingdom's records on ancient lineage and foreign concubines —added Kilian—. There is information about Abigail's blood I must verify.
—Blood?
—She carries a hidden heritage —the king said without hesitation—. And if my suspicions are correct, her lineage could alter our nations' history.
The emperor didn't ask further. He wasn't foolish.
---
Back in Abigail's chamber, Luciana dressed with Liana's help, feeling lighter but mentally tangled. The door opened quietly and the Northern doctor entered with a leather bag of vials.
—Good morning, Princess. The King asked me to deliver this to you.
Abigail eyed him warily.
—Are you going to sedate me?
—Not exactly. These herbs are to control your scent. Your body is waking… and that provokes a strong reaction from nearby males. It's dangerous if left unchecked.
—My scent?
—The moon's call, Princess. You haven't been officially marked, but your body already recognizes you as the alpha's mate. Until that happens, any nearby wolf will feel provoked.
Abigail swallowed hard. The doctor handed her a small pouch of dried leaves and instructions for brewing.
—What if I don't take it?
—The King will have to subdue each wolf that approaches with improper intentions. And believe me, Your Highness. That hurts. For everyone.
The door opened again and tension instantly filled the room.
Kilian had returned.
He said nothing. He leaned in the doorway against the frame as the doctor bowed and withdrew.
Left alone, the air thickened once more.
Luciana felt her body heat rise again. She looked at him. He looked at her. Desire hovered between them like a living current.
—Dammit... —she whispered, crossing her legs tightly.
Kilian took a step toward her, then another. His movements were feline—slow, precise, deliberate.
She backed up until her spine hit the wall.
—Stop —she panted—. Please...
Kilian paused, breath coming in shallow gasps.
—You don't need to fear me —he said hoarsely—. But I don't know how much longer I can hold back.
—I know\... —she whispered—. I feel it too. But... I… I'm a virgin.
Kilian closed his eyes as though that single word struck him in the chest.
—I never meant to hurt you. Last night wasn't my intention.
—You didn't hurt me. But this... can't spiral out of control —her breathing quickened.
The king nodded and stepped back.
—I'll sleep on the sofa again… if you still want me here.
Luciana hesitated a moment, weighing it. Then nodded.
—But no games this time.
Kilian managed the faintest smile.
—I promise.
Yet neither of them knew whether they could keep it.
Because the moon was drawing nearer.
And their bodies... had already begun responding.