Darius's POV

The ballroom music swelled behind me like nothing had happened.

Liora's fingers were still curled around my forearm, her perfume cloying, lilies and ambition. She leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear as she whispered, "Shall we continue the introductions, my King? Everyone is waiting."

I didn't answer.

My wolf was screaming.

MINE. MINE. MINE.

The word ricocheted through my skull, raw and relentless, drowning out every other thought. The golden bond I had just publicly severed still pulsed faintly in my chest like a severed artery leaking heat. Every beat sent another wave of her scent crashing over me, moonflowers crushed under rain, wild honey, something darker and older beneath it. Something that made my canines ache.

I had rejected her.

Out loud. In front of the entire realm.

And my body was punishing me for it.

I shook Liora's hand off, gently enough not to cause a scene and stepped away from the dais. "Excuse me."

Her smile faltered for half a second before she recovered, turning to charm the nearest Alpha instead.

I strode through the side corridor, claws digging into my palms until blood welled between my fingers. Guards snapped to attention as I passed, but I didn't acknowledge them. My wolf clawed at the inside of my skin, demanding I track her down, drag her back, pin her to the nearest wall and-

No.

I slammed the door of my private chambers behind me so hard the frame cracked.

The room was dim, lit only by the low fire in the hearth and moonlight spilling through tall windows. I braced both hands on the mantel, head bowed, breathing hard. My reflection stared back from the polished silver mirror above, eyes still half-shifted, silver irises ringed with black, pupils blown wide.

Her scent clung to me.

Even here, miles from where she had run, it wrapped around my throat like a noose. Sweet. Intoxicating. Impossible to ignore.

I had smelled thousands of she-wolves in my lifetime. None had ever done this.

My heart throbbed painfully, straining against my ribcage. I pressed the heel of my hand against it, trying to ease the ache. It only made it worse.

A knock.

"Enter," I growled.

Beta Rowan stepped inside, eyes wary. "My King. The ball continues without incident. Liora is... handling the guests."

"Good." My voice came out rougher than intended.

He hesitated. "The girl, Elara Voss. She fled into the gardens. Do you want guards sent after her?"

"No." The word snapped out too fast. Too sharp.

Rowan's brows lifted slightly.

I straightened, forcing calm into my tone. "She's banished from the hall tonight. That's enough. Let her sulk."

He nodded once and retreated.

The door clicked shut.

I waited exactly three heartbeats.

Then I summoned her.

I did not use the mind-link. It was too public, too traceable and she didn't even have her wolf yet. She was more or less a human. Instead I sent one of my personal guards with a quiet order: "Bring the wolfless handmaid to my chambers. Discreetly. Now."

Ten minutes later, the door opened again.

She stepped inside alone.

Elara Voss. I didn't even know her full name when I rejected her.

She was still in that damp gray dress, champagne stains dark against the fabric, clinging to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist. Her hair had come partially loose, strands sticking to her tear-streaked cheeks. Blood had dried beneath her nose in a thin rusty line. Her bare feet left faint wet prints on the rug.

She kept her eyes on the floor.

My wolf lunged so hard I almost shifted.

I crossed the room in three strides, stopping just short of touching her. Close enough that her scent flooded me again, overwhelming, addictive. My hands flexed at my sides, claws pricking my palms. Hadn't I just rejected her? Why does she still have this effect on me?

"Look at me."

She lifted her chin slowly.

Those eyes-storm-gray, rimmed with red from crying met mine.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, I wondered how I never noticed her.

The bond might have snapped on my command, but the pull was still there. As strong as ever.

Heat rolled off her in waves. I could smell her arousal beneath the salt of tears and fear...slick, sweet, undeniable. My mouth watered. I swallowed hard.

"You refused to kneel in the hall," I said, voice low. "But you'll kneel here."

Her lips parted on a soft inhale.

I stepped closer until our bodies were almost brushing against each other. The heat of her skin radiated through the thin dress. I could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat, the way her chest moved up and down from her ragged breathing.

"I rejected you as Luna," I continued, letting my voice drop to a rumble. "But I did not reject this."

I dragged one knuckle slowly down the side of her neck, following the line of her pounding vein. She shivered-full-body, uncontrollable.

"My wolf wants you," I murmured. "Badly. And so do I."

Her breath hitched.

"Be my mistress."

The words hung between us.

"Hidden. Discreet. No crown, no title, no public claim. But you'll have my bed. My protection. Freedom whenever I want it." I leaned in until my lips brushed the shell of her ear. "You'll come when I call. Spread for me. Take me deep until you forget your own name. And in return, I'll make sure no one ever hurts you again."

Her body trembled.

I slid my hand to her waist, fingers splaying possessively. The dress was so thin I could feel the heat of her skin, the slight curve of her hip. I pulled her flush against me-let her feel exactly how my body needed her, how thick, how ready.

She gasped softly.

One of my hands slid up, cupping the back of her neck, thumb brushing the sensitive spot beneath her ear. I tilted her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze.

"Say yes." I nudged.

"You know I could take you by force if I had my way. But somehow my wolf restrains me. He wants us to be gentle with you for some reason."

"Any woman would jump at this offer." I said again when she wouldn't say anything.

For a long moment she was silent.

Then she spoke, voice quiet but steady.

"No."

The word hit like a slap.

My grip tightened involuntarily.

She didn't flinch.

"I will not be your secret," she said. "I will not be anyone's shame."

Rage and lust collided in my chest.

My wolf snarled.

I released her abruptly and stepped back, claws fully extended now, shredding the arms of the nearest chair as I gripped it to keep from grabbing her again.

"Get out."

She didn't hesitate.

She turned and walked to the door, shoulders straight despite everything.

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

I stood there, breathing hard, heart still aching, wolf howling in fury.

She had refused me.

No one refused me.

And yet the only thing I could think about was chasing her down, pinning her to the forest floor, and proving exactly who she belonged to.

Elara's POV

The corridors felt longer on the way back to the servants' quarters.

My legs shook with every step, but I kept my spine straight until the heavy oak door of the maids' dormitory closed behind me. Only then did I let myself slump against the wall, sliding down until I sat on the cold stone floor.

My chest still ached where the bond had torn. Not the sharp, ripping pain from the hall anymore-just a deep, hollow bruise that throbbed with every heartbeat. My dress clung uncomfortably to my skin, champagne and sweat and shame all mixed together. I could still feel the ghost of Darius's hand on my waist, the heat of his body pressed against mine, the low rumble of his voice promising things I refused to let myself imagine.

I pressed my palms to my eyes until spots danced behind my lids.

No.

I wouldn't cry again. Not over a king who looked at me like I was dirt one second and like he wanted to devour me the next.

The dormitory was quiet. Most of the maids were still working the ball, carrying trays, refilling goblets, smiling through exhaustion. I was alone with the echo of his words.

Be my mistress.

Hidden. Discreet. No crown. Just his bed.

I laughed. A humourless, wry laugh.

My skin flushed hot at the memory of his thumb brushing my neck, the way his breath had ghosted over my ear. My body had reacted before my mind could catch up-nipples tightening, thighs pressing together, a slick ache I hated admitting to. I'd wanted to lean into him. Just for a second. Just to feel something other than invisible.

But I'd said no.

And now the hollow in my chest felt even bigger.

I dragged myself to my narrow cot in the corner, peeled off the ruined dress, and pulled on the thin nightshift I kept folded beneath the pillow. The fabric was rough, but clean. I curled onto my side, knees to chest, trying to ignore the lingering scent of pine and storm that still clung to my hair.

Sleep didn't come.

Instead, memories flickered-small, confusing things. Liora's face when we were twelve, the way she'd suddenly stopped sharing secrets with me overnight. The way the pack had started looking past me like I wasn't there. I'd always assumed it was because I hadn't shifted yet. Wolfless. Weak. Easy to ignore.

But tonight felt different. Personal.

A soft knock startled me upright.

The door cracked open. One of the younger maids, Anya slipped inside, eyes wide.

"Elara," she whispered. "You're needed in the east wing. Liora sent for you. Said it's urgent."

My stomach twisted. "Now? The ball's still going."

"She said immediately." Anya bit her lip. "She didn't look happy."

I nodded once, pulled my gray dress back on over the nightshift, and followed her out.

The east wing was quieter, private guest suites for visiting Alphas. Liora waited in the corridor outside one of the larger rooms, arms crossed, golden hair still perfect despite the late hour. When she saw me, her lips curved into that familiar sweet-sharp smile.

"There you are," she said. "I was starting to think you'd run off for good after your little display."

I kept my voice even. "What do you need, Liora?"

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I felt... unwell during the toasts. Nauseous. Dizzy." She pressed a delicate hand to her stomach. "I think something I drank didn't agree with me."

I frowned. "I can fetch the healer-"

"No need." She waved a hand. "But I remembered you brought me that glass of wine earlier. The one from the special decanter."

My blood went cold. "I didn't. I was serving champagne. You asked for water after the first dance."

Her smile didn't waver. "Are you sure? Because the cup I drank from had your fingerprints all over it and your scent is strongly evident on it. And now there's a bitter aftertaste. Almost like... nightshade."

The word landed like a stone in my gut.

Nightshade. Poison.

"That's impossible," I said. "I never touched any wine tonight. I was barely around to even serve anyone wine."

Liora tilted her head. "Then how do you explain this?"

She opened the door behind her.

Inside, the suite was lit by low candles. On the low table sat an empty goblet, my fingerprints smudged clearly on the stem-and beside it, a small vial of dark liquid. The faint scent of bitter herbs drifted up.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

"I did not do this, and you know it." I whispered.

Liora's eyes gleamed. "Of course you didn't. I know you didn't. But it looks bad, doesn't it? A wolfless handmaid, rejected by the Alpha King in front of everyone, suddenly poisoning his chosen Luna-to-be? People will talk. It's the only reasonable conclusion."

She stepped inside and closed the door behind us, leaving Anya outside.

"I could scream right now," she continued softly. "Guards would come. They'd find the vial. They'd find you here. And Darius..." She let the name hang. "He already wants you gone. This would make it permanent."

My mouth went dry. "Why are you doing this?...What do you want?"

She studied me for a long moment. Then she smiled again-slow, satisfied.

"I want you out of my way. Permanently."

She rang a small bell on the table.

Within seconds, guards burst in-two of Darius's personal men, faces hard.

"Take her to the holding cells," Liora ordered. "She's under suspicion of attempting to poison me."

They grabbed my arms.

"Please Liora...don't do this Liora. I'm innocent and you know it."

I was on my knees now. I knew begging was useless, but I also knew that the punishment for treason was death. I had to try. Maybe, just maybe they would spare me.

Just then, Liora pretended to fall. She was coughing continuously. The healer appeared and checked her, confirming it was nightshade.

"Liora...Liora please!" I tried again, attempting to grab her hand.

Luna Seraphine, the Alpha king's mother, gave me another hard slap.

"Let go of her you treacherous thing. You attempted this inside my palace walls...this is unforgivable." She yelled.

"Mother..." Liora called sounding sick and weak.

"Save your breath child, take her to her room." Luna Seraphine ordered.

"Mother...please don't hurt Elara. She's my hand maid. There might have been some sort of misunderstanding. She probably got jealous that the Alpha King rejected her and chose me instead. I understand her completely."

"Oh poor sweet child. You have such a sweet heart. Do not worry. This will be properly investigated and this unfortunate creature will pay dearly."

I was stunned into silence. Liora was such a great actress. Even I started to believe her. As the maids helped her out, she lounged at me and hugged me tearfully.

"You should never have come here with me." She whispered.

Out loud she said "Don't worry, I know you're innocent, all this will be sorted out."

"You are such an ungrateful peasant. Look how she treats you so kindly and yet you commit this atrocity against her?!" Luna Seraphine's voice sounded distant. I was no longer there. I could not even move.

"Take this dirty creature out of my sight before I rip her apart." I heard Luna Seraphine say again.

This time I didn't fight, didn't struggle. I let them drag me.

As they dragged me down the corridor, Liora called after me, voice sweet as honey.

"Don't worry, Elara. I'll speak to the King. I'll beg for mercy. I'm sure he'll listen."

The cell door clanged shut behind me.

Dark. Damp. Cold stone under my bare feet.

I sank to the floor, back against the wall, knees drawn up.

Hours passed-or maybe minutes. Time blurred in the dark.

Then footsteps.

The door opened.

Darius stood there, silhouetted against the torchlight.

His eyes burned silver.

"The evidence is compelling," he said quietly. "Death is the sentence for treason."

My heart stuttered, I already knew this but it felt more real to hear him say it.

"But Liora has asked for leniency." His jaw tightened. "She begs that I banish you instead."

He stepped inside. The door closed behind him.

We were alone.

He crouched in front of me, close enough that his scent wrapped around me again, pine, storm, fury.

"You should have said yes," he murmured. "None of this would have happened."

I was still silent, staring into space.

"You know, I can still save you. I am after all the Alpha King of this realm. You just need to say yes to me."

His hands were on me now. His face deliberately close. I could here his heart beat, his breath was on my face.

I thought about it for some time. All the privileges and the freedom. I would still be a servant, but I would serve a greater master. But I could not bear to be his sidepiece. I'd rather be a servant of the lowest rank.

I met his gaze. "My answer remains the same. I will not be your mistress, I am ready to accept the consequences. I was framed, but I know my words mean nothing."

Something flickered in his eyes-regret? Hunger? Rage?

He let me go and stood abruptly.

"Take her to the border at dawn," he told the guards outside. "Banish her. If she returns, kill her on sight."

He left without another word.

The door slammed.

I pressed my forehead to my knees.

Banishment.

Not death. I was going to live. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. I would be without a pack, without a home.

I laughed, this wasn't a home after all. Yes, banishment wasn't the end of the world. I would find a pack some day.

I looked outside the cell window. It was a full moon tonight.

"Moon goddess, please let this be the dawn of a new beginning for me." I said out loud.

But as the hours ticked toward dawn, Liora's final whisper echoed in my mind-the one she'd breathed as the guards dragged me away.

"Run fast, handmaid. My friends will be waiting beyond the border."

Elara's POV

Dawn broke gray and merciless.

The guards did not speak as they marched me to the border. Rope bit into my wrists until they cut it at the line, shoved me forward, and turned away without a word. One of them muttered something about Liora's "regards," but the wind swallowed it.

I crossed alone.

I looked wretched and dirty.

The pack link severed with a cold snap. No more distant hum of pack minds. Just silence and the Shadow Wilds pressing in.

Trees thickened fast, branches low and tangled. Mist clung to my bare legs, soaking the hem of my dress. Every step hurt, calf muscles cramping, chest still bruised from the rejected bond, stomach empty and twisting. I kept moving because stopping felt like surrender.

Liora's whisper looped in my head.

Run fast, handmaid. My friends will be waiting.

I told myself it was empty cruelty. A last twist of the knife. I tried to think of something else. The new pack I was going to have, my new life.

Then the growls started.

Low. Multiple. Encircling.

I stopped breathing. Fear crippled me.

Yellow eyes appeared between the trunks, six sets, maybe seven. Rogues. Filthy fur, scarred muzzles, ribs showing under patchy pelts. They moved like a pack that had forgotten mercy.

The biggest one, scarred gray with one torn ear stepped into the open and shifted just enough to speak.

"Liora sends her love," he rasped, lips pulling back over yellowed fangs. "Said to make it slow. Said you'd scream pretty."

Terror locked my knees.

I backed up until bark dug into my spine. No claws. No fangs. No wolf. Just me-wolfless, weaponless, bleeding from yesterday's humiliation.

They lunged.

"Stay back!" I yelled suddenly finding my voice.

I picked up a rock and threw it at them.

They laughed. The sound of their laughter echoing into the forest.

I remembered the soldiers, maybe they had not gone so far. Maybe they'd hear me. Deep down I knew it wasn't possible. I had already crossed the border and the sound would not travel that far. I still tried anyway. I couldn't get myself to give up hope just yet.

"Help!"

"Help!"

I yelled at the top of my voice. But this seemed to excite them even more.

"Scream louder, maybe someone will come to save you." One of them said mockingly.

I stopped then. I knew it was pointless.

I twisted away from the first claws, but teeth caught my calf. Pain seared white-hot. I screamed, fell, tasted dirt and blood. They circled tighter, laughing-low, wet, animal sounds.

The scarred leader crouched over me, claws flexing.

I closed my eyes waiting for the worst to happen.

"Time to-"

The sound came then, loud, scary.

A roar shattered the air.

It wasn't a wolf sound. It was deeper, older, thunder made flesh.

Something enormous exploded from the undergrowth.

Black fur shot through with silver. Crimson eyes blazing. Taller than any shifter I'd ever seen, broader, more monstrous. Dark chains coiled around thick wrists and ankles, pulsing with red-black light like living veins.

The rogues froze for half a heartbeat.

Then they screamed.

"It's the Beast!"

"Run-!"

He didn't let them.

One swipe tore the scarred leader open from throat to groin. Blood sprayed in an arc. Another rogue lunged-claws met air as massive jaws closed around his neck and ripped. A third tried to flee; the Beast caught him mid-leap, slammed him into a tree trunk hard enough to crack wood, then drove claws through his chest.

Screams turned to gurgles. Bodies hit the ground in wet thuds. Limbs scattered. The forest floor darkened with red.

It was over in seconds. There was blood, body parts

Silence returned, broken only by dripping blood and my own shallow gasps.

The Beast turned.

Crimson eyes locked on me.

I couldn't move.

He took one slow step forward. Then another. Chains rattled softly with each movement.

Fear should have choked me. Should have sent me scrambling backward.

But when those eyes met mine, those deep red eyes, ancient, burning, something strange happened.

All the terror... slipped away.

Like warm water washing over ice. My heart still hammered, but not from panic. From awe. From a pull I didn't understand.

He crouched, still towering over me on one knee. Fur began to recede in slow waves, silver-streaked black hair falling forward to frame a face that shouldn't have belonged to a monster.

Sharp cheekbones. Strong jaw shadowed with stubble. Full lips parted slightly. Eyes fading from crimson to molten gold as the transformation finished.

The chains dimmed, hanging loose now around wrists that were suddenly human-strong, scarred, beautiful.

And he was gloriously, completely naked.

Broad shoulders. Carved chest rising and falling. Ridged abdomen leading down to narrow hips and powerful thighs. Every inch of him sculpted like he'd been forged in fire and moonlight.

I stared. I couldn't get myself to look away.

His voice came out low, rough from disuse, but velvet-soft.

"You're hurt."

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out at first.

Then, barely a whisper: "What... what are you?"

He tilted his head, studying me with those golden eyes. A faint, almost sad smile touched his lips.

"Something forgotten," he murmured. "Something cursed."

He reached out-slow, careful-brushing blood-matted hair from my cheek with the back of one knuckle. His touch was warm. Steady. Safe.

The world tilted. Everything became blurry.

Blood loss. Shock. The impossible shift from terror to this strange, aching calm. The sight of him-feral one moment, heartbreakingly beautiful the next.

My vision blurred at the edges.

His arms caught me as I swayed forward-strong, gentle, cradling me against a chest that smelled of pine, smoke, and something ancient.

Darkness rushed in.

The last thing I felt was his heartbeat against my cheek-steady, powerful, impossibly alive.

Then nothing.