The Oath Is Not of a King, But of a Husband
The scent of blood still clung to his hands.
But it was not from now.
It was old.
Embedded in memory like iron on the tongue. Like an open wound that refused to close.
Samael did not slow his pace.
But his mind… betrayed him.
Dragged him backward.
To before everything collapsed.
Before daughters became blades turned against each other. Before he, in misguided mercy, brought a traitor's bastard into his home—into the sanctuary his wife, his woman, his Luna had built as the living symbol of their eternal love.
Before promises began to rot.
Back to the room.
That room.
Heavy.
Too warm. The bed was disheveled, soaked in sweat and pain, reeking of something too ugly to name—a birth that hovered too close to death.
Filled with people trying not to look desperate.
And failing.
The floor was still stained with blood, painting the polished stone. The trail of the fallen body remained—wrong, and yet terribly right.
The servant—a young she-wolf with dark fur, long hair, brown eyes—once carried herself with shameless confidence.
She lost her throat in a single second.
Samael did not blink.
He did not allow himself to.
His claws were already through her neck when he pulled.
A vacuum.
Blood sprayed like a fountain.
Her eyes remained open.
Her mouth too.
Frozen in terror.
In regret.
Then the body fell backward like a dry leaf.
The sound didn't matter.
The piece of trachea in his hand was discarded beside the corpse as crimson pooled beneath it.
He turned, wiping his hand with a contempt that made the midwives recoil in horror.
He tempered his fury—barely.
Because now it was aimed at the pain that dared touch her.
That dared make his Luna suffer.
Araliz.
Lying there.
Too pale for someone who had always seemed carved from cold light.
Her silver hair spread across the sheets like liquid metal.
Her eyes…
still alive.
Still fighting.
Gold streaked with silver.
As if the moon itself had chosen to bleed within them.
But her body…
betrayed her.
The scent of iron in the air was wrong.
Sick.
Poisoned.
Samael remembered the rage.
The urge to tear every throat in that castle until silence became permanent.
But in that moment…
he was not a king.
He was a man kneeling beside a bed, holding her hand as if that alone could keep her there.
— Stay, — he said.
Ridiculous.
Desperate.
Honest.
She smiled.
Weak.
Every breath seemed like a failed attempt, her lungs rebelling against life itself.
And still…
devastating.
— Always so commanding… — she murmured, her voice breaking, yet still gentle. Still her. Still his Luna. His wife. His first and only love.
She struggled for air.
Each breath a war.
— Samael…
He tightened his grip on her hand.
— Don't speak.
— You will listen, — she cut him off, low but firm.
Still a queen.
Even as she broke.
Silence.
Everyone in the room understood.
That was not a request.
It was an order.
— Swear to me.
He froze.
— No.
The answer came instantly.
Violent.
— Not like this.
She inhaled deeply.
Pain flashed across her face like lightning—brief, brutal.
Still, she held his gaze.
Never looking away.
— Swear… — she insisted — that you will protect our daughter. That you will take care of our little girl.
Samael closed his eyes.
Too long.
She noticed.
Of course she did.
— I already protect her.
— Not as a king.
That struck.
Direct.
Merciless.
She pulled his hand with a strength she shouldn't have had.
— As a father. As my husband. As my Alpha.
Silence.
Heavy.
— Swear you will love her… — her voice faltered, then steadied — no matter what she becomes.
A pause.
— No matter what happens.
He opened his eyes.
Rage.
Fear.
Refusal.
All at once.
— You speak as if—
— Swear.
Now it was no request.
— Samael.
Controlled desperation.
The worst kind.
— Even if she changes, — she continued — even if she errs… even if she is not what you expected…
Her fingers tightened around his.
Weak.
But unyielding.
— You do not abandon her. You do not leave her in some forgotten room. You do not forget her.
Samael exhaled.
Heavy.
— I do not abandon what is mine. I would never forget my own blood.
— You abandon what you do not understand.
Silence.
She knew him.
Better than anyone.
— Swear… — she whispered — that you will be the father I know you can be. The one who gives her her first love… the kind that shapes a girl forever.
The words lingered.
Like a sentence already passed.
Samael pressed his forehead to hers.
— I swear.
The words tore out of him.
But they came.
— I swear I will protect her.
— I swear I will love her.
— I swear I will be her pillar.
— I swear I will guide her with something pure.
— I swear I will not abandon her.
She closed her eyes.
Relief.
Small.
But real.
— Even if… — she murmured — even if I'm not here.
He stiffened.
— No.
— Samael.
— No.
Lower.
More dangerous.
— You are not leaving.
She smiled again.
That cursed calm.
— Promises are not made for what we want… — she whispered — they are made for what can break.
She struggled for air.
— And if I break…
Her eyes opened.
Bright.
Alive.
Stubborn.
— You will not break with me. You will be her fortress. You will carry my love to her. You will be the arms she runs to… the shoulder that holds her grief.
Silence.
The entire world fit inside that moment.
And then…
a sound.
Weak.
But real.
A cry.
New.
Raw.
Life.
Samael turned his head.
Instinct.
Fear.
Hope.
And there…
wrapped in blood and chaos…
was her.
Small.
Alive.
Breathing as if the world were not dangerous.
Yet.
— A girl, my Luna.
Araliz already knew.
— Healthy, my lady.
He looked back at Araliz.
She was farther now.
But still there.
Smiling.
As if the pain meant nothing compared to that child.
— Go, — she murmured. — Go see her.
He didn't want to let go.
— Our child, Sam… our legacy…
He didn't want to move.
— Our love made flesh…
He didn't want to choose.
— Go.
Stronger than her body allowed.
He hesitated.
One second.
Two.
Then he stood.
Each step toward the child felt wrong.
As if he were leaving something behind he could never reclaim.
When he took his daughter into his arms…
the world changed.
Silently.
Irreversibly.
He looked back.
Araliz still watched him.
Smiling.
Tired.
But proud.
— Take care of her… — she whispered. — Love our little girl… as you loved me.
And this time…
he did not answer.
Because he already had.
And promises…
are not made for easy moments.
They are made…
for the day everything falls apart,
and you have to decide who you are.
And now he runs to save one daughter…
carrying the weight of having just killed the other.