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Chapter 9 - The Stirring Wolf

Rian's POV

The kitchen always smelled of warmth fresh bread, roasted meat, and the faint trace of honeyed wine. It reminded me of the safe corners of my past, even if those were few and fleeting. I hadn't meant to stay long. Just to check in on Mira,the maid who had taken a quiet liking to me since my arrival. She offered smiles, soft bread rolls, and silence when I needed it.

But today, there was tension in the air thick and coiled, like a storm waiting to break.

Mira was there, bustling between the tables, her dark curls bouncing as she spotted me. Her smile was genuine, a rare treasure in this place.

"Rian! I didn't think you'd come," she whispered, hugging me and handing me a slice of warm bread.

I accepted it gratefully, the simple kindness grounding me. "I wanted to see you," I said softly, settling onto a nearby bench.

"Oh, how much I've missed you."

"I heard what happened. I'm glad you're okay now," she said gently, and before I could reply

A voice, sharp and cruel, cut through the kitchen's calm.

"Look who's wandering around like she owns the place the omega who survived the king's touch."

I froze, heart pounding. Standing near the pantry was Lena. She'd never liked me. Not once.

I said nothing.

She clicked her tongue. "You think surviving the king's touch makes you special?" Her words slashed through the silence. "You should've burned like the others. At least then you wouldn't be strutting around here like you belong."

That word—surviving—hit like a blow. My spine went rigid. My heart stuttered.

"Don't mind her," Mira hissed, stepping protectively in front of me. "She's jealous. Stuck here scrubbing floors while you're in the king's sights."

And then… my wolf stirred.

A low hum buzzed in my chest, faint but undeniable. My breath hitched, and for the first time in what felt like forever, something shifted beneath my skin. The part of me I thought was broken—silent—wasn't gone. My wolf was still there. Weak, wary, but present.

I gasped softly, clutching the edge of the counter to steady myself.

Lena blinked at my reaction, confusion flashing across her face.

I didn't give her the satisfaction of a response. I turned to Mira p. "Thanks for this. I'll see you again."

Then I walked away, ignoring Lena's voice calling after me.

I needed air. I needed space. I needed… him?

No. I shook the thought off and headed toward the chamber the king had given me. Every step echoed with the realization: my wolf wasn't dead.

Something was changing.

When I opened the door to my chamber, I froze.

A woman stood inside.

Tall. Elegant. Dressed in flowing indigo that shimmered like starlight. Her silver-blonde hair was coiled neatly atop her head. Her eyes were the same stormy shade as Darius's—piercing and unreadable. She was beautiful. Effortlessly so.

I straightened, every nerve on edge with suspicion.

Another mistress?

She turned slowly, her gaze sweeping over me—curious but not cruel. Her lips curved slightly. "You're smaller than I imagined."

My jaw tightened. "You're not supposed to be in here."

She blinked at my tone, then laughed softly. "You're feisty. I like that."

"I'm not in the mood for flattery," I muttered, stepping farther into the room, fists clenched. I didn't care how graceful she looked—I wasn't about to let another one of his women toy with me. "If he sent you—"

"He didn't," she interrupted, raising a hand. "He doesn't know I'm here."

That made me pause.

"I'm Avery," she said. "His sister."

I blinked. "What?"

Avery tilted her head. "You thought I was one of his lovers?" She smiled, but there was no malice in it only quiet amusement. "Heavens, no. I've been dying to meet you."

I stared at her, heart still thundering. "Why?"

"Because you survived his touch," she said simply. "And because you're the only one—aside from me who has."

"You did too?" I asked, shocked.

"Yes," she replied calmly.

"I don't know what I am," I murmured.

Avery stepped closer and sat, keeping a respectful distance. "You're someone who did the impossible. That makes you dangerous… and rare."

I looked up sharply. "Dangerous?"

"To the court. To anyone who's ever benefitted from Darius being feared. You're a threat because you lived."

I swallowed hard. "He hasn't claimed me."

"Not yet," Avery said softly. "But you're already his."

Her words settled between us like a truth neither of us wanted to name. I fiddled with the edge of my sleeve. "Then why hasn't he said anything?"

"Because claiming you would change everything. Not just for him for you, too." Avery's voice grew gentle. "The moment he acknowledges you…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

What was that supposed to mean? I wondered.

Avery leaned forward. "You're stronger than you know. You survived him, Rian. That alone speaks volumes."

Silence fell between us.

A knock sounded at the door.

A palace guard. "Lady Avery, the king is requesting your presence."

She rose fluidly, smoothing her gown. "Tell him I'll be there shortly."

The guard bowed and left.

Avery turned back to me. "I'm not here to spy on you, Rian. I came because I know what it's like to live in the shadow of power and not know where you stand. But you you've already begun to cast a shadow of your own."

I swallowed. "What if I'm not ready?"

She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Then take your time. But don't hide from it. Not from him. And definitely not from yourself."

With that, she left. Her presence lingered like incense sweet, heady, and unsettling.

I sat there long after the door clicked shut.

My wolf wasn't dead.

The king's sister didn't hate me.

And Darius—

Something deeper was unraveling beneath the surface of this palace. And I had a feeling that whatever it was, I was right at the center of it.

I rose slowly to my feet, every breath filled with uncertainty and quiet resolve.

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