Chapter 55
Lucian called out, but I didn’t care. “Arin, don’t walk away from me like that! We’re not done talking about this!”
But I didn’t turn back. I couldn’t. Not when the anger I felt toward him was burning too hot to ignore.
I stalked down the halls, my mind swirling with thoughts. He didn’t care about me, not truly. I was nothing but a means to an end for him. His desire for power, for control, was all that mattered. And I was just a tool for him to achieve it.
I was done. Done with him, with his selfishness, with his complete disregard for my safety.
I needed to get away from him, to find a way to protect myself. Lucian’s indifference only confirmed that I couldn’t rely on him. I was alone in this.
And if I had to play his game to get what I wanted—if I had to pretend to care about his stupid wedding to stay alive—I would. But he would never have my loyalty. Not now. Not ever.
I refused to be a pawn in his game.
.............
I turned a corner too quickly, lost in my thoughts about Lucian and his selfishness, and nearly collided with someone. The scent hit me first—an intoxicating blend of cedar and something primal that made my stomach twist. I looked up, and there he was.
King Rowan. The werewolf who had broke my heart.
His usually sharp gaze was hazy, his pupils blown wide. His chest heaved like he had been running, but the tension in his body was something else entirely. Something dangerous.
“You should watch where you’re going,” he said, his voice lower than usual, rougher.
“I could say the same to you, your Majesty,” I snapped, my heart pounding as I tried to keep my composure. There was something different about him, something raw and untamed. It made the air feel heavier, charged with energy I couldn’t ignore. I had to leave, I had to leave before he made me do something that I didn’t want to.
His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “What are you doing wandering these halls so late, Lady Arin? You seem to be making that an habit.”
“A bad habit I must say.”
“I could ask you the same question,” I said, refusing to let him see how unnerved I was. “This castle belongs to you, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t you know what happens within your own walls?”
He stepped closer, and I instinctively stepped back, but the wall behind me stopped me cold. His closeness made my skin prickle, and I realized too late how vulnerable I was.
“You shouldn’t be out alone,” he said softly, though there was no kindness in his tone. “Not when danger seems to follow you so closely.”
My breath hitched, but I forced myself to stay calm. “I can take care of myself, Your Majesty.”
“Can you?” he murmured, leaning in slightly. “Last I heard, someone tried to kill you. You were in the market and someone was following you. You should try and stay away from places like that.”
I stiffened. How did he know about that?
If he knew about that, did that mean he was the one who did it?
“That’s none of your concern,” I said quickly, but my voice wavered.
“It is my concern,” he growled, his eyes flashing with something wild. “Everything that happens in my kingdom is my concern. Especially when it involves you.”
“Why me?” I demanded, trying to sound defiant even as my pulse raced.
Rowan’s gaze darkened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he said, “Because you are a guest in my palace. Because it has been barely a full moon since your arrival and you have been causing so much havoc. And lastly, because my wolf won’t stop thinking about you.”
The words hit me like a thunderbolt. My throat went dry, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
He took another step closer, his hand braced against the wall near my head. “Do you feel it, Arin?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was heavy with meaning. “That pull between us? The way the air shifts when we’re close? I have tried to ignore it ever since you came here but it is impossible.”
I swallowed hard, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re lying,” he said, his tone sharp now. “I can feel it. My wolf can feel it. And I know you can too. That is why you cannot stay away from me, no matter how much you try.”
“I—” I started, but he cut me off, his free hand reaching up to cup my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“You can deny it all you want,” he said, his voice low and rough, “but it won’t change anything.”
The intensity in his gaze made my heart pound so loudly I was sure he could hear it. His thumb brushed against my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine.
“This is madness,” I whispered, trying to pull away, but his grip was firm.
“Maybe,” he said, his lips so close to mine I could feel the warmth of his breath. “But it’s real. You want this as much as I do.”
Before I could respond, his lips crashed against mine.
The kiss was fierce, desperate, like he was trying to consume me. I froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of it. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.
Against all logic, I found myself responding. There was something about him—about the raw power he exuded—that made it impossible to resist. But just as quickly as it started, I pushed him away, breaking the connection.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.
Rowan’s eyes were still wild, his lips parted as if he was just as shocked as I was. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice strained. “But I couldn’t stop myself.”
I shook my head, trying to clear the haze of emotions clouding my mind. “This is wrong,” I said firmly, though my voice betrayed how shaken I was.
“Wrong?” He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “Tell me, Arin, what part of this feels wrong to you? Because to me, it feels inevitable. It feels like fate. Like this is real.”
His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I didn’t know what to say. My heart was still racing, my lips tingling from the force of his kiss.
“I can’t do this,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “I’m marrying your brother. You are married.”
His expression hardened at that, the wildness in his eyes replaced by something colder. “Lucian doesn’t deserve you,” he said bluntly. “And we both know it. And as for Isabelle. She is only my Queen in name, that was our agreement. I only married her because I was forced to.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” I snapped, trying to regain some semblance of control.
Rowan’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before he turned and stalked away, leaving me alone in the hallway with my thoughts—and the lingering heat of his kiss.
I pressed my fingers to my lips, trying to steady my breathing.
What had just happened? And why, despite everything, did I feel like a part of me didn’t want him to stop?
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