PARIS POV

The words landed like a blow, and the room narrowed until all I could hear was my own breath.

Selene had sold me, handed me over like a coin to pay her debt, and finally, the pieces of me that had tried to hold on fell off effortlessly and in a single breath. My knees became weak, my entire body became cold, and I felt as if the entire world fell around me like there was nothing left to hold on to.

He saw it all, the way my hands were trembling, my face losing color, and he stepped in a little closer, so close that I could see every line of his face, every shadow of his eyes and I could see the way power clung to him like a second skin. My lips opened without thought, the word slipping out as if that were all I could think to say. "My king..."

But he cut me short, his voice deep and firm. "No, darling. Call me Vincent. Not your king. I'm just Vincent to you now. Now strip."

He moved back with slow, steady steps and sat on his massive bed, his presence swallowing the room even as he leaned into the headboard. He pulled out a cigar, placed it between his lips, and with one flick of fire, lit it, the smoke curling around him like a crown of sin.

I knew who this man was now, the Mad Alpha, the one the whole realm feared, and I understood if I wanted to live, I had to play by his rules. My fury toward Selene would wait, I would lash out later, I would tear her apart when I got the chance but here and now I needed to survive him.

So with shaky hands, I did as he said, slipping out of my dress piece by piece until only my panties clung to me, and my heart pounded louder than the silence in the room. Hot tears burned my eyes, blurring my vision, and I hated myself for letting him see, but he caught them before they could fall.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," he murmured, his voice softer now like a cruel trick. "Come closer. I won't hurt you. You have no worries."

I hated how his words soothed me. Hated how my body betrayed me as I moved forward slowly until I reached him. hated even more that I didn't stop myself, even though I knew I still could.

I sat on his lap, my face inches from his, my breath unsteady, his heat pressing against me as his eyes held mine. This was no longer about the act, or the performance. It was about what I had already chosen to risk.

He dropped the cigar into a tray, leaned in, and his lips almost touched mine but at the last moment I shifted, pulling back, the weight of everything tightening in my chest. His low chuckle rumbled against my skin.

"Oh, girl, you do not want to go down that path," he said, his fingers tracing down the line of my neck, sending shivers racing through me, until suddenly he stilled, his hand brushing against the tattoo marked into my skin. He leaned in closer, reading aloud in a low voice. "Jareth Gleb."

The name froze the air between us.

"That's... my father's name," I whispered, my breath shaky, and the moment the words left me, I saw the shock flash across his face.

He grabbed my hands, pulling me off his lap so fast I stumbled. "What did you just say?" His eyes widened, burning with disbelief. "You mean, Jareth Gleb is your goddamn father?"

My lips trembled as I forced the word out. "Ye... s. He's my father."

Vincent dragged a hand down his face, cursing under his breath, his whole body stiff with something I couldn't understand, fear or rage or both, and then his voice cut sharp. "Put your dress back on. Now."

I obeyed instantly, my hands fumbling as I pulled the silk back over me, my mind spinning, my heart thundering, and just as I fastened the last strap, a loud crash echoed from outside the chamber, the sound of chaos rising like a storm battering at the walls.

His face snapped back to me "and who the hell is Selene to you. Vincent asked, because I know...

"She's my stepmother, I replied.

His face twisted with something wild, and his voice thundered, sharp and furious, "Oh fucking goodness, your step what?"

"My stepmother," I whispered again, my heart pounding so loud it drowned the silence, and in that instant he stormed out of the room, his steps like thunder, his curses echoing off the walls, each word filled with rage, "I'm going to kill Selene!"

Vincent was no longer simply Vincent, this was the Mad King that the world had spoken about, and the anger in his gaze was sufficient to burn. My body was frozen, my mind was too rattled to process anything, but all I knew was that Selene was in trouble, and I couldn't wait.

My legs pulled forward before my thoughts did, and I followed him down the long stairs, my heels clacking against the cold stone as I attempted to keep up.

As soon as I stepped into the great hall, my eyes went wide at the chaos before me. Guards were colliding with brute strength, their weapons clanging, and in the middle of it all was Liam, the beta of my pack, vibrating with potential energy, his muscles quaking as his wolf threatened to explode from his skin and his growls sounded like thunder as he tried to shove them back.

"Who the hell do you think you are walking into my home and causing problems?" Vincent roared, and the distance of his voice shook the walls right down to their foundation. He was frothing with fury. His fierce glare swept over his men as he bared his teeth.

"How did this fool enter here, and why the fuck is he causing trouble?"

I ran forward, pushing through the madness, my heart aching when Liam's eyes met mine, sharp and burning, but when he looked past me and his finger pointed straight at Selene, my breath caught.

"You mean to tell me," Liam's voice carried like a whip, his chest heaving with fury, "you came here, lured your stepdaughter, and tried to sell her off to pay a debt? Is that how low you've become, Selene?"

Gasps filled the hall, my knees weakened, but before I could find words Mason suddenly appeared from the shadows, his face twisted with confusion, his voice rising, "What is going on?"

But Liam snapped, his rage cutting him down like a blade, "Shut up, boy! What the hell are you even doing here?"

Before Mason could open his mouth again, Vincent's fury doubled. He stepped down from the stairs where he stood, his presence swallowing the entire hall, his eyes fixed on Liam. "What the hell do you want?"

Liam froze, his chest rising and falling, then suddenly his voice cracked as he whispered, "Oh my gods... Vincent?"

Vincent's eyes narrowed, sharp suspicion flaring. "How do you know my name? Who the fuck are you?"

Then, before I could blink, Liam dropped to his knees, his body trembling, his eyes wet with tears I had never seen on him before. "Vincent... you don't remember me? It's me Liam, Jareth's beta, your closest friend back in those days."

For the first time, Vincent stilled, his furious eyes softening, his chest rising with disbelief. "Liam..." he whispered, and then, with a sudden crash of emotion, he pulled him up and hugged him, both men holding onto each other like brothers pulled apart for years. "Oh Liam..." Vincent breathed out, his voice almost breaking. "Why are you here, and what is the issue?"

Liam pulled back, his eyes sharp again, and when he turned toward Selene, his voice dripped with hate. "This evil witch," he spat. "Once I heard from my spies the reason she was traveling was that she planned to hand Paris over, to pay her debt.

I couldn't stay away. I had no idea you were the Mad King the world spoke of. "If I had known..." his voice was shaking with fury, "I would have come with an army to burn her to the ground."

Selene drew herself smaller into the corner, shaking, and pale. "I... I didn't mean to," she tried to say, her body shaking as if even her own lies were betraying her.

I couldn't breathe. My whole chest heaved sobs as the truth settled in. My life, my pain, everything was shattered into pieces, and the word tore from my throat. "What did you just say?"

Then Liam shifted his gaze towards me, his eyes dark and his voice filled with remorse. "Paris, I'm sorry...I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

Vincent's voice pierced mine, catching both of us mid-sentence, "What did you just say?"

Liam swallowed, tears sliding down his face. "Paris is Selene's stepdaughter," he said, his voice breaking, "and your late brother's daughter."

The air in the hall cracked, silence falling so deep it almost deafened me. My legs buckled beneath me, my chest shook violently as I cried harder, my voice breaking. "No... no... no..."

Vincent's face twisted with shock, his hands clenching, his jaw tight, his eyes locked on me as if the whole world had shifted.

And then Mason, with his nosy mouth, his voice cutting sharp, spoke out, "Dad, you mean this king is late Alpha Jareth's brother?"

But Vincent didn't even let him finish, his voice snapping like thunder. "Liam, you have a son? I don't recall you ever getting married."

Liam's face turned pale, his eyes darted between Mason and Vincent, and then his voice broke. "He's your son, Vincent."

My heart didn't just stop; it fractured. I looked from my uncle the man who owned me to Mason the man who betrayed me and saw the mirror image: the same dark fury, the same possessive coldness. Mason wasn't just a traitor, he was the son of the Mad King, the child of the man who had just bought my life.

I hadn't just lost a boyfriend, I had been sleeping with my captor's blood. Everything I had tried to escape was, and always had been, locked inside this room.

I finally fell, my knees hitting the expensive floor. The tears stopped. All I could do was stare at the polished floor, seeing only the reflection of the chain that now linked me, by debt and by blood, to every single monster in this room.

The hall was still shaking with the weight of what had been revealed, but Vincent hadn't taken his eyes off me.

Not since Liam spoke the words. Slowly, dangerously, Vincent turned toward me. His gaze wasn't shocked anymore.

It was sharp. Calculating. "You knew," he said.

The words cut through the hall like a blade.

I lifted my head. Vincent took a step closer, his voice low, lethal. "You knew Selene was selling you and you walked straight into it."

Silence swallowed the room.

"Yes," I said.

The word echoed.

A muscle jumped in his jaw. "Why?"

I pushed myself to my feet, my legs shaking but my spine straight. My voice didn't waver.

"Because power like yours doesn't just consume," I said. "It destroys."

His eyes darkened.

"And guess who I wanted to destroy."

The name left his mouth without hesitation.

"Selene."

For a heartbeat, something like understanding flickered across his face.

Then I shattered it.

But I had no fucking idea," I said, my voice cracking as the truth finally tore out of me,

"that I was about to have sex with my father's brother

or the boy that I loved and have been fucking is his son."

Auto Saved Word Count 10949/70

PARIS POV

The hall didn't go silent for me.

I had already heard the truth long before Liam spoke it out loud.

I had known Selene was selling me.

I had known I was walking into a monster's hands.

What I hadn't known was whose blood ran in his veins.

Or that the man I had loved was standing on the wrong side of it.

My uncle.

"Everyone out!"

The sound shook the room. Guards dropped to their knees. Servants ran for the doors. Only a few of us were left, Vincent, Selene, Liam, Mason, Lily and me.

The doors closed hard, the echo ringing in my head. I could barely stand; my hands were shaking.

Vincent stood where he was. He did not speak. His hands were clenched at his sides, and the air around him felt thick, as though his control was the only thing holding the room together.

For the first time since I had met him, something cracked beneath his stillness. His breathing was slow but uneven, and his jaw was set so tight that a muscle jumped along his cheek. His eyes were fixed on nothing at all, as if the truth had struck somewhere too deep for words.

Liam shifted uneasily. "You're seriously not going to say anything?" he asked, his voice low but strained. "About Mason."

The silence stretched again.

Mason's chest rose sharply. His eyes burned, wet and red, and his lips trembled as he stepped forward. "Of course," Mason said bitterly. "Why would he?"

Vincent did not answer him.

Mason laughed, sharp and ugly. "That's it? Nothing? You find out you have a son and you can't even pretend to care?"

The air thickened. Vincent took one step forward.

"Care," he said quietly, "is a privilege."

Mason's breath hitched, tears spilling freely now as his hands curled into fists. "This mad king can't be my father," he said, his voice shaking as the words tore out of him. "He can't be. I won't accept it."

The sound of his grief cut through the hall, raw and unguarded. I felt it settle in my chest like a weight I could not push away.

Vincent finally moved but not toward Mason.

His gaze shifted to me without warning, heavy and unreadable, as though he was searching for something he had already lost. His eyes lingered there longer than necessary, and whatever he saw only tightened his expression further.

Mason noticed.

"So you won't even look at me," Mason said bitterly through tears, his voice rising. "But you can look at her."

Vincent's shoulders stiffened. His breath caught once, shallow and sharp, before he forced it steady again. His hand lifted halfway, then dropped back to his side as if the effort alone had cost him something.

The room waited.

Slowly, Vincent turned his head away from me and faced Liam, his eyes dark with a storm he had not yet allowed himself to release.

Vincent twitched his hand. His eyes glowed red once more, and his chest rose quickly. When he turned to face Selene, I for a moment believed that his rage would shatter the floor. His voice was low but burning as he said, "You destroyed my brother's name."

"You turned his daughter into a toy for your greed. You made her dance for wolves who wanted to devour her."

Nobody saw him coming because he moved so quickly. Selene was lifted off the ground as his hand closed around her neck. She gasped and clawed at his wrist. "Please, please, don't, Vincent."

He held on to her even as her feet kicked in the air. His voice thundered and his eyes grew brighter. "For what you did, you should have rotted long ago!"

"Vincent, stop!" I cried, running forward. "She's not worth it!"

He didn't move. His hand tightened, and Selene choked out a weak sound.

I pushed closer. "Don't kill her! You'll be no better than her if you do! You left your family behind, you left me behind and now you want to wash your hands in her blood? You think that makes you clean? If there is anyone who needs to take revenge on her it's me."

His head snapped toward me. "Watch your tongue," he warned, his voice shaking the air.

Liam moved between us fast. "She's just a kid, Vincent."

But Vincent didn't look away from me. His glare was cold. "As much as you're my niece, it would take me nothing to cut that sharp tongue out if I hear another word from you. Don't test me."

Liam caught his arm and forced him to drop it. "That's enough!"

Selene fell to the floor, coughing hard. She tried to speak, but Vincent raised his hand, cutting her off.

"Strip her of everything," he said to the guards. His voice was calm now, but it was worse than shouting. "Her title, her lands, her name, everything she owns belongs to the crown. She's no Luna, no ruler. From now on, she is nothing."

Selene's eyes widened. "You can't do this to me..."

"I just did," Vincent said.

The guards grabbed her by her arms. She screamed and kicked, but they dragged her toward the door.

Her voice echoed through the hall. "You'll regret this, Vincent! You'll all regret this!"

The doors shut behind her, and silence filled the room again.

Vincent stood in the middle of it, chest rising and falling. His eyes were still bright, his jaw tight. He looked powerful, dangerous, and empty all at once.

I wanted to hate him. But I couldn't look away.

Then he said in a voice that filled the room, "No one leaves until I say so."

The guards stood at attention, waiting for his command. He looked at them and said, "Show everyone to their rooms."

Then his gaze stopped on me. His tone dropped lower. "And you, Paris... you're coming with me. We need to finish what we started."

I was struck hard by the words. My breath caught in my throat and my heart jumped. Just what did he say? His gaze remained fixed on me, and I felt my stomach turn. The silence was broken by Mason's voice.

"What do you mean by that?" His voice trembling, his face flushed, he took a step forward. "What do you mean by "finish what we started?"

PARIS POV

Slowly, Vincent's head turned in Mason's direction. He had lost the calm that had been on his face. The coldness in his eyes caused the hair on my arms to stand on end.

"You should learn when to hold your tongue, Mason," he said in a low voice. The room's atmosphere shifted. Everyone became still. The guards froze, too. Vincent began to approach him. One by one, his shoes sounded louder than the last as they struck the ground.

With a tone like a steel rubbing stone, he declared, "I don't take kindly to being questioned." "It wasn't for nothing that I was called the Mad King."

Mason didn't move back. His face was red, his chest rising fast. "Oh, really?" he shot back. "What's next then? You're going to sleep with your niece? Is that what you meant by..."

Vincent's hand moved so quickly that I didn't notice it until it landed before he could finish. The crack echoed throughout the room. Mason's face and shirt were covered in blood as he flew back and hit the ground.

With a deep moan, he rolled onto his side and gripped his nose. He poured blood between his fingers. I rushed to him after screaming. "Mason!" I reached for him, my knees slamming into the floor.

He had a twisted, swollen nose. "Oh God, Mason, stop moving; you're bleeding."

He hissed in pain, muttering a curse under his breath.

Vincent towered over him, his eyes still hard as he said, "you better know who you're speaking to. I will not let it go easy next time."

He looked at his guards. "Throw him outside the gates."

My head snapped up. "What? No! He's bleeding!"

Before I had a chance to react, Liam charged. "Vincent!" he yelled. "That's your son! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Vincent turned his head, the muscle in his jaw twitching. "You're asking me what's wrong with me?"

Liam paused but didn't relent. "No, not like that," he said slowly. "But can't you see? He's just a boy. He's angry. He just said something stupid, that's all."

Vincent's expression didn't change. "A boy who insults a king?" he said. "Do you actually think that's something I'll just let go?"

"Vincent, stop this," Liam said again. "He's your blood."

Vincent's voice turned sharp. "He may share my blood, but that doesn't make him my equal. He earned what he got."

I couldn't take it anymore. I shouted, tears burning my eyes. "Why are you so heartless? Can't you see he's hurt? Look at him!"

Vincent's gaze shifted to me. His eyes locked on mine now. Then he walked closer, slow, steady steps until he was standing right in front of me.

My heart hammered so loud I thought he could hear it. He bent down until his face was inches from mine. His voice came out low and quiet, but every word was sharp. "I do not care."

The world seemed to stop. My throat felt tight.

He stood straight again. "Now, Paris," he said coldly, "my room. I won't repeat myself."

I looked up at him, this man who had just broken his own son's face without a flicker of regret and my stomach turned. His eyes were empty, his face unreadable.

There was nothing human left in him.

He was alive, but he had no soul.

A dead man wearing a crown.

The order hung between us, but my feet refused to obey. My eyes flicked once more to Mason on the floor, blood soaking into the stone beneath him.

"I'm not leaving him like this," I said, my voice shaking. "He needs help."

Vincent watched me the way one watches something that has already made its last mistake.

I took a step back instead of forward. That was enough.

In one swift movement, Vincent closed the distance between us. His hand wrapped around my arm, strong and unforgiving, and before I could pull away, he bent and lifted me from the ground.

The breath tore from my lungs as my feet left the floor.

"Put me down!" I shouted, striking his shoulder in panic and rage. "Vincent, let go of me!"

He did not slow down. His arm locked around my back, holding me firmly against his chest as he turned toward the doors. I twisted in his grip, my fists pressing uselessly against him, but it was like struggling against stone.

The hall blurred past me.

I heard the scrape of boots as guards stepped aside. I felt eyes on me, watching, judging, understanding exactly what this meant.

Shame burned hotter than fear.

"This isn't right," I said through clenched teeth. "You don't get to do this."

His voice was low and steady near my ear. "You forfeited the right to walk away the moment you defied me."

The doors opened. I went still in his arms, my body tight, my heart pounding hard enough to hurt.

The door shut behind us with a loud thud that made me jump. My heart was still racing from what had just happened. The sound of Mason's nose breaking was still ringing in my head.

Vincent didn't say a word. He walked straight to the table, picked up a bottle of wine, and poured himself a drink like nothing had happened. His movements were too calm.

I stood by the door, shaking. "You didn't have to hit him like that," I said as my voice cracked a little and carrying me out wasn't necessary."

He took a slow sip and turned slightly, his cold eyes landing on me. "And yet, I did," he said simply.

I clenched my hands. "You act like you don't feel anything at all."

He set the glass down. "Feeling is weakness."

I took a step forward even though my knees felt weak. "No. It's what makes you human."

He looked at me for a long moment, and I could see something flicker in his eyes. Then he said, "Then maybe I stopped being human a long time ago."

My breath caught. He started to move quietly, circling me like a predator. I could feel him behind me before I even turned. Every step he took made the air heavier.

When he stopped, his voice was right by my ear. "Are you afraid, Paris?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Of you? No." I took a shaky breath. "Of what you might make me feel? Maybe."

For a second, he froze. His eyes softened just a little, but it was gone as fast as it came. He turned away, grabbed his glass again, and said, "Sit."

I crossed my arms. "No."

He raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but dangerous. "You really want to test me tonight?"

"You already proved your strength," I said.

He took a step toward me, and I could feel the heat coming off his body. "You think that was strength?" he said slowly. "That was mercy."

I laughed bitterly. "You call that mercy?"

He leaned down until our faces were only inches apart. His eyes were dark. "You wouldn't survive my cruelty."

The words made my skin prickle. I hated that my body reacted to him, that I couldn't look away. I wanted to hate him completely, but something in his voice pulled at me.

He suddenly turned away and walked to the closet. Without saying a word, he pulled something out and threw it toward me. I caught it clumsily. It was a robe, smooth and soft in my hands.

"You look like you've been dragged through hell," he said. "Clean up."

I stared at him, my chest tight. "Why? So you can control that too?"

"No. Because I hate untidy things."

"You're untidy on the inside," I muttered under my breath.

That made him pause. His lips twitched, almost a smile but not quite. "Careful, Paris. You're starting to sound like me."

I glared at him, but I could feel my face getting warm. I hated that he noticed.

He leaned back against the table, eyes locked on me. "If you're going to stand up to me," he said slowly, "do it properly. Keep your head high. Weakness doesn't suit you."

For a moment, he looked away, and I saw his hand shake slightly as he lifted the glass again. He tried to hide it, but I saw. That tiny tremble didn't fit the man everyone feared.

I held the robe tighter in my hands. I didn't know if I wanted to throw it at him or wear it.

He looked back at me. "Go. Clean up. I'm not repeating myself again."

I stared at him one last time before walking past him. The scent of alcohol clung to the air. He didn't move, but I could feel his eyes on my back until I disappeared into the bath chamber.