The silence in the wake of my white-light explosion was deafening. Dust motes danced in the pale moonlight filtering through the cracked windowpanes, settling on the obsidian floor like graveyard ash.
I stood my ground, my lungs burning, my skin still humming with the residual electricity of the White Wolf's power. I didn't hide the glow in my eyes anymore. If Kaelen wanted a monster, I would show him a goddess.
Kaelen remained on one knee, his head tilted, watching me with a terrifyingly lucid curiosity. The singed skin on his hands was already knitting back together—the hyper-regeneration of a Lycan King was a grotesque, beautiful sight.
"A Queen?" I spat the word like it was poison. "You think because you saved me from a few pathetic scouts and recognized my scent, I belong to you? I didn't break one bond just to be shackled by another, King Kaelen."
Kaelen rose slowly, his shadow stretching across the ceiling, devouring the light. He didn't move toward me with violence this time. He moved with a heavy, predatory grace that was far more unnerving.
"Shackled?" He chuckled, a low, tectonic rumble. "Little wolf, the world is a slaughterhouse for your kind. Do you think Xander's rejection was the end of your suffering? If the High Council hears a single whisper of a White Wolf breathing, they won't just reject you. They will harvest you. They will drain your bone marrow to fuel their wars."
He stopped three feet away, his crimson eyes scanning my defensive posture.
"You aren't a prisoner here," he said, his voice dropping to a seductive, lethal whisper. "You are the only person in this fortress who can look me in the eye without trembling. That makes you an ally. Or an obsession. I haven't decided which yet."
I tightened my grip on the edge of the obsidian table. "I want a bargain."
Kaelen's eyebrows arched. "A bargain? You have no territory, no pack, and you are currently wearing my shirt in my bedroom. What could you possibly offer a King?"
"My blood," I said, the words cold and sharp.
Kaelen's entire body stiffened. I saw his nostrils flare, his pupils dilating until the red was nearly gone.
"I know about the Lycan Curse, Kaelen," I continued, stepping forward, invading his space now. "I know the madness that eats at your mind. I know why Silas looked at me like I was a miracle. The White Wolf's blood is the only thing that can stabilize a Lycan's fractured soul. You don't just want a mate. You want a cure."
The air in the room grew cold enough to freeze the breath in my throat. Kaelen's face shifted into a mask of pure, ancient rage, his fangs lengthening. The monster was clawing at the surface again.
"Careful, Elena," he warned, his voice a guttural snarl.
"I will give you what you need," I pressed on, ignoring the lethal aura radiating from him. "I will let you feed from me to keep your madness at bay. But in exchange, you will give me two things."
Kaelen reached out, his hand hovering near my throat, trembling with the effort not to crush me. "Speak."
"First, you will train me. No more hiding. I want to control the White Wolf, not just survive her. I want to be the weapon that Xander fears." I leaned in, my glowing eyes inches from his. "And second... when the time is right, you will help me burn the Blackclaw Pack to the ground. I don't just want Xander dead. I want him to watch as everything he sacrificed me for turns to ash."
Kaelen stared at me for a long, agonizing beat. The madness in his eyes clashed with a newfound respect. He didn't see a victim. He saw a mirror of his own darkness.
"You would sell your soul for vengeance?" he asked.
"I already lost my soul in the mud tonight," I replied. "Now I just want the bill paid in full."
Kaelen let out a sharp, jagged laugh. He reached out and grabbed my hand, his palm searing against mine.
"A bargain, then," he growled, pulling me flush against his rock-hard chest. "But remember this, Elena: My blood is now tied to yours. If you betray me, I won't just kill you. I'll make sure you're the last thing I see before I burn this world down."