The evening mist crawled through the stone corridors of the fortress like a silent ghost.
Elara was brought into Kaelen's private study. Unlike the grand, intimidating hall from earlier, this room was dim, lit only by a fireplace that cast orange flickers across rows of ancient, leather-bound books and maps of the surrounding territories.
Kaelen sat behind a massive oak desk, swirling a glass of dark amber liquid. He had swapped his tactical vest for a loose black shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, giving him the appearance of a bored aristocrat. But the way his eyes tracked Elara as she entered told a different story.
"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to a chair directly across from him.
Elara hesitated, clutching the hem of her oversized linen tunic—the one given to her by the scarred werewolf. She made herself look small, her eyes wide and watery as she sat on the very edge of the seat.
"I... I was told there would be a Trial," she whispered, her voice trembling just enough.
"The elders are preparing for it," Kaelen said, his voice smooth. "But I find I'm more interested in a private interrogation first."
He stood up and walked around the desk. Every movement was fluid, the grace of a predator that didn't need to hurry because it knew the prey had nowhere to go. He stopped behind her, and Elara felt the heat radiating from his body.
"You have very soft hands, Elara," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he reached out and picked up her right hand.
Elara's internal alarm went off. Her hands were soft—she used expensive oils to keep them that way to hide the calluses from years of handling knives and rifles—but her muscle memory was something she couldn't completely erase.
"I... I worked in the kitchens before the slavers took me," she lied, her heart rate spiking by design, simulating fear.
Kaelen's thumb traced the line of her palm. It felt like a slow-burning fuse. "Is that so? Then why is it that when I approached you in the washroom, your first instinct wasn't to scream, but to reach for your throat?"
He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "You were looking for a weapon, weren't you, little bird?"
Elara froze. She hadn't realized he'd noticed that split-second movement in the washroom. She needed to pivot, and she needed to do it now.
She turned her head slightly, her nose almost touching his jawline. She didn't pull away. Instead, she let a tear spill over and roll down her cheek, landing on his thumb.
"I was looking for the pendant my sister gave me," she sobbed, a sound of pure, raw grief. "It's all I have left of her. When you came in... I thought someone was coming to take that too."
She looked at him then, her eyes filled with a desperate, fractured light. "If you're going to kill me, just do it. But don't mock my fear. You're a King—surely you have better things to do than bully a girl who has nothing."
Kaelen stared at her. For the first time, his golden eyes flickered with something other than suspicion. It wasn't pity—he was incapable of that—but it was an acknowledgment. He liked the bite in her tone.
He let go of her hand and walked back to the fireplace, staring into the flames.
"The elders think you're a spy sent by the southern packs," he said, his back turned to her. "They want me to execute you tonight to be safe. My territory is under a microscope, Elara. Every move I make is watched by enemies who want to see me fall."
He turned around, a sharp, cold smile playing on his lips. "So, I've decided to give them something else to look at. Since you're so good at acting like a broken, clinging thing... you will stay by my side. You will be my 'distraction'."
Elara blinked, the tears still damp on her face. "A distraction?"
"Let them think their Alpha has finally grown weak. Let them think I'm more interested in a human toy than guarding the Moonstone," Kaelen said, his eyes hardening. "As long as you play your part, you live. But remember—I know you're hiding something. I don't care what it is, as long as it doesn't get in my way."
He walked back to her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up. "If I find out you're more than just a girl with a sad story... I won't just kill you. I'll make sure you regret ever breathing the air of this forest."
Elara swallowed hard, her pulse thumping against his fingers. "I understand, Alpha."
"Good." He released her. "Now, go. The Trial starts in an hour. Don't make me regret keeping you alive."
As Elara walked out, her head bowed in submission, her mind was already moving ten steps ahead. He suspected her, but he was arrogant enough to think he could use her.
He wants a distraction? she thought, a cold smile forming in the shadows of the hallway. I'll give him one. And while he's watching the show, I'll take his heart and his stone.
The game had truly begun.