The moment Edmund’s hand touched my cheek, the world shattered. I had been standing in the glittering ballroom of the Alpha King’s palace, surrounded by crystal chandeliers and the murmur of nobility from three kingdoms. My sister Elaine had just been dancing with my fiancé, and I had watched them with nothing but warmth in my heart, grateful that the two people I loved most in the world got along so well. An older noblewoman had even asked if they were to be mated tonight, and I had laughed, explaining that Lord Edmund was mine.
But then his fingers brushed my skin, and his voice filled my head. *What nonsense is this now? I’ve come too far to have Sylvie doubting at the last moment. Just a few more hours and her fortune will be mine.
*
I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my mouth. Edmund’s lips never moved, yet the words echoed through my mind with terrible clarity. He reached for me again, his expression one of pure concern, and his thoughts rang out once more. *If only Elaine had been named in the will as is her due.
I wouldn’t need to claim this foolish girl. *
I recoiled from his touch. I hadn’t known Elaine had been excluded from our father’s will. I hadn’t known anything about any of this.
All I knew was that the man I had agreed to bind myself to for eternity wanted nothing from me but my inheritance. “How could you? ” I cried, backing away from him. “I heard you.
I know how you really feel. ”
Edmund’s face hardened. “You’re speaking nonsense. Come, the ceremony will begin soon.
”
“No. ” I shook my head, my voice rising. “The ceremony is off. I won’t be mated to someone who only wants my money.
Someone who’s in love with my—”
He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. “Lower your voice,” he hissed. “You’re making a scene over nothing. ”
But his thoughts hammered into my mind, relentless and cruel.
*If she ruins this now, father’s creditors will take everything. I need her fortune to save the estate. *
“Let me go,” I demanded, trying to pull away. We had reached the edge of the ballroom, near a side entrance to the gardens.
There, sitting on the steps, was the hooded beggar the guards had tried to remove earlier. He had apparently evaded them. “You’re being hysterical,” Edmund said through gritted teeth. “What is wrong with you, Sylvie?
When we’re mated—”
“When we’re mated? ” I repeated, incredulous. “We will not be mated, Edmund. ”
“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?
The king himself is prepared to bless our union. ”
I stomped my foot, desperate and furious all at once. “I’d rather mate with—with that beggar over there than spend another moment with you. ”
Edmund’s facade cracked.
His eyes narrowed, his voice rising. “Is that so? Perhaps we should ask him if he’d have you. ”
Humiliation burned through me like wildfire.
Without thinking, I wrenched free of his grip and strode toward the beggar. I seized the front of his worn cloak and pressed my lips to his. I braced myself for his thoughts, expecting shock or confusion to flood my mind as it had with everyone else. Instead, there was nothing but silence and the unexpected softness of his lips against mine.
When I pulled away, I found myself staring into striking gray eyes that watched me with equal parts surprise and, was that amusement? Edmund’s hand closed around my arm again, yanking me backward. “You want to humble me with your little display? ” he snarled.
“Now you’ll face the consequences. ”
He began dragging me back toward the ballroom, gesturing sharply for the beggar to follow. “Come along then. Let’s see what the Alpha King has to say about this spectacle.
”
The crowd parted as we entered, whispers rising like a wave around us. Ladies hid smirks behind their fans, gentlemen cleared their throats awkwardly. At the far end of the hall, King Caspian sat upon his ornate throne, his ceremonial mask crafted to resemble a wolf’s visage catching the light as he turned toward the commotion. “Your Majesty,” Edmund called, executing a perfect bow.
“I beg your intervention in a matter of honor. ”
The king tilted his head slightly. “Speak, Lord Edmund. ”
“This woman was to be my mate this very night.
Yet moments ago, I discovered her in a most compromising position with this vagrant. ” He jerked his chin toward the beggar. “She has dishonored our betrothal before the ceremony even began. ”
Gasps rippled through the assembly.
“Is this true? ” the king asked. Before I could respond, Edmund spoke again. “I demand justice according to the old laws.
If a betrothed person betrays their intended, they must choose: either honor the original commitment or bind themselves to the one they chose to betray with. ”
My eyes widened. I hadn’t known of this law. But as Edmund stepped back with a triumphant smile, I understood his strategy.
He believed I would never choose a life of poverty and disgrace. That when faced with the alternative, I would meekly accept him as my mate, inheritance and all. My gaze traveled between Edmund with his golden hair and fine clothes, and the tall stranger beside him wrapped in a patched cloak. “I choose the beggar,” I announced confidently, despite the collective gasp that followed.
Edmund’s face contorted with shock. “You don’t mean to choose a beggar over me. ”
“But I do. The beggar it is.
”
“The beggar has a name,” the hooded man interrupted. “Yes, of course. I’ll happily marry—” I paused, realizing I didn’t know his name. “Reeve,” the man supplied, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“Reeve,” I repeated firmly. “Instead of Edmund, that’s fine by me. ”
As the crowd erupted in scandalized chatter, the king raised a hand, silencing the uproar. “And you, sir, do you consent to this binding?
”
Reeve glanced at me. “Yes,” he said finally. “I consent, your highness. ”
I noticed the slight tilt of the royal head, as though in confusion.
“Are you certain? ”
“Quite certain, your highness. ”
The king remained still for another moment, then nodded. “So be it.
The mating ceremony will proceed, starting with a different pairing than anticipated. Father, you may begin. ”
Edmund’s face had gone pale with fury. “This is madness.
You would throw away everything for this—this gutter rat? ”
“Better a rat than a snake,” I replied. The priest approached with visible reluctance. When he placed his hands on our shoulders to begin the blessing, his thoughts flooded my mind.
*The poor girl is throwing her life away. And for what? To mate with a beggar so filthy he’ll probably give her fleas. *
I flinched but held firm as the priest intoned the ancient words of the mating ritual.
“The mating bond requires an exchange of blood,” the priest finally announced. “The beggar will bite first, followed by his mate. ”
Reeve stepped closer to me. “Are you certain?
” he asked quietly. I nodded, exposing my neck. I would not mate with Edmund. Of that I was certain.
As he moved closer, the hood of his cloak fell back completely, and I caught my first proper look at the man I was about to bind myself to for life. The collective gasp from the crowd confirmed I wasn’t imagining things. Far from the dirty vagrant I’d expected, Reeve was strikingly handsome. His face was all sharp angles and perfect symmetry—high cheekbones, a strong jaw dusted with the shadow of a beard, and full lips.
“Perhaps being a beggar’s bride won’t be such a hardship after all,” a noblewoman nearby whispered audibly. My cheeks flushed at the implication. I braced myself, expecting his bite to be rough. Instead, his hands were gentle, and his lips brushed my skin first before his teeth broke the surface of my neck.
When it was my turn, I leaned forward to complete the bond. Beneath the worn collar of his cloak, Reeve’s skin was unexpectedly clean, his scent pleasant, like pine and night air. My teeth broke his skin, and the connection strengthened instantly. But as I waited for the rush of his thoughts to invade my mind, nothing came.
“It is done,” the priest proclaimed. “Before the eyes of the court and the blessing of the Alpha King, you are now mated. ”
The night air bit through my ceremonial gown as I followed Reeve along a narrow forest path. We had left the palace with nothing but the clothes on our backs—me in silk that snagged on every branch, him in his worn cloak that he draped over my shoulders when he noticed me shivering.
The simple kindness made my heart flutter unexpectedly. In truth, I owed him far more than thanks. This stranger had saved me from a lifetime bound to Edmund’s deceit. Before departing, I had managed one crucial task.
I’d spotted my father’s old steward, Giles, among the spectators and pulled him aside. “Take this letter to Master Farrow,” I had whispered. “My financial advisor. Tell no one.
”
The old man had nodded, tucking the message into his vest. “Will you be safe, my lady? ”
“Just deliver it. And quickly.
”
In the letter, I’d instructed Master Farrow to confirm two things: whether my mating to Reeve affected my inheritance, and if Elaine truly had been excluded from our father’s will. I’d also made a request—to lie if anyone inquired about my financial status, to claim I couldn’t access my fortune. Edmund would never stop pursuing me otherwise. Now, trudging through the darkened forest after a man I’d known for mere hours, I felt a curious mixture of fear and hope.
The mating bond pulsed between us, a constant reminder that there was no going back. Whatever awaited me at the end of this path was my new life. Each time Reeve turned to make sure I was keeping pace, the moonlight caught his gray eyes, and I felt a little thrill run through me. Maybe this hasty union could become something genuine.
“It’s not much further,” he said, his voice the only warm thing in the chill night. Just beyond a clearing, the trees opened to reveal a small cabin nestled against the hillside. In the moonlight, I could make out its weathered planks and sagging porch. As we drew closer, I noticed holes in the thatch roof.
“Welcome home,” Reeve said, pushing the door open. The cabin’s interior was a single room containing a rough-hewn table with one chair, a small fireplace with a few logs stacked beside it, and a narrow cot pushed against the far wall. Nothing more. “I apologize for it not being much,” Reeve said, watching my face carefully.
“Probably far from what a noble lady requires. ”
His stance was tense, almost expectant, his gray eyes fixed on my face, studying my reaction with unusual intensity. A terrible realization hit me. *He accepted my hand because he thinks I’m wealthy.
He’s waiting to see if I’ll reveal my true colors now that we’re stuck here. *
The thought stung more than it should have. I’d begun to imagine that perhaps he’d helped me because he’d felt some of the same inexplicable connection I had. But no—like Edmund, he saw me as nothing more than a path to fortune.
Disappointment hardened into resolve. I would not be used again. “Actually, kind sir,” I said, “I should inform you that I’m no longer a noblewoman. I cannot inherit unless I marry a man of noble birth.
So I’m afraid I’ve lost all my fortune by choosing you. ”
I watched his face carefully, looking for the telltale signs of disappointment or anger that would confirm my suspicions. “Is that so? ” Reeve’s eyebrows rose in curiosity.
“Then why didn’t you marry a man of noble birth? ”
He didn’t believe me. He thought this was some kind of test or trick. “Unlike you, dear husband, my fiancé was only after my inheritance,” I replied, studying his reaction.
Reeve’s eyes narrowed slightly, searching my face. “I see. ” He leaned against the table. “So I suppose you’ll be asking for a separation to get your money back?
”
A muscle twitched in his jaw as he waited for my answer, and my heart sank further. *He wants me gone. He was hoping to take my money, but now that I don’t have any, he wants me to leave. *
Well, if he wanted to be rid of me, he’d have to say it directly.
I wouldn’t make it easy for him. Because by failing to honor our mating, I’d be expected to go back to Edmund. And I’d rather sleep in the forest first. “That was never my intention,” I said, squaring my shoulders.
“Though perhaps you will ask for a separation upon finding out I am poor. ”
“Not at all, dear wife. ” His lips quirked into a half smile. “But as you can see, my roof is full of holes.
There’s not much to eat, and I have barely enough wood to last us the night. ”
He trailed off expectantly, and I nearly laughed at how transparent he was, trying to scare me into admitting I had money hidden away. “I’m sure with my assistance we will manage,” I replied with a bright, brittle smile. Reeve tilted his head.
“Do you know how to fix roofs and chop wood? ”
“I can certainly learn. ”
We stared at each other, and the mating bond pulsed between us, at odds with the mutual wariness. Finally, Reeve shook his head and moved to start a fire in the hearth.
Once the flames caught, he straightened and deliberately approached me. “You must be cold,” he said, reaching for my hand with clear intent. I hesitated before allowing him the contact. The moment our skin touched, the mating bond flared like a banked fire suddenly stirred to life.
Though I still couldn’t hear his thoughts, I sensed emotions—wariness, curiosity, and something like grudging admiration. Reeve’s reaction was more dramatic. His eyes widened in genuine shock, his lips parting slightly as he stared at our joined hands. “Do you have magic?
” he asked abruptly. “What? ” I blinked, confused. “Magic,” he repeated.
“Other than the obvious ability to shift. ”
The specificity of the question caught me off guard. “Why? ” I asked suspiciously.
“Were you hoping I’d magically make your problems go away? ”
“No. Of course not. ”
I crossed my arms.
It shouldn’t matter if he wanted my money. I hadn’t married him for love either. Yet somehow, the thought of him having an ulterior motive stung. I’d wanted, foolishly perhaps, for at least one person in this new kingdom to accept me for myself.
“Good,” I said firmly. “Because we’re mated now, so I’m not going anywhere. ”
“Fine,” he said after a moment. “But don’t expect to live here for free.
If I have two mouths to feed, I expect you to pitch in. ”
“Fine,” I shot back. “But don’t expect me to share your bed. It’s too small.
I’m taking it. ”
“Fine. ” His jaw clenched. “Great.
” I lifted my chin. We stood facing each other, arms crossed, identical challenging gleams in our eyes. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows that seemed to dance with the tension between us. A month after my impulsive wedding, I found myself knee-deep in mud, scrubbing the inside of Farmer Mercer’s pigpen.
The burly farmer had offered us three copper coins—an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. “That spot’s been clean for ten minutes,” he called from the fence. “You’re just pushing mud around now, girl. ”
I blinked, realizing he was right.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, struggling to my feet. “First time cleaning a pig pen? ” Mercer asked, not unkindly. I tried to smile, grateful for his lack of judgment.
But then, as he extended his hand to help me out of the enclosure, our fingers briefly touched—and immediately, his thoughts invaded my mind. *Look at her, soft as butter and twice as useless. Probably some lord’s runaway plaything. *
I jerked my hand away.
This was the curse of my new ability—hearing the unfiltered judgments people kept hidden behind polite faces. The only mind closed to me was Reeve’s, a fact that both frustrated and relieved me. I began the long walk home, my coarse linen dress caked with mud and worse. By the time I reached our cabin, the sun was setting.
Inside, Reeve was whittling by the fire, his knife moving with practiced precision over a piece of wood. “Productive day? ” he asked, setting aside his project. “Three copper coins and vegetables.
And you? ”
“One silver piece and a side of bacon. ”
I nodded, too tired to speak further. Every day was the same—an endless cycle of hard labor for meager rewards.
And yet, I refused to admit how much I struggled. To do so would be to give Reeve the opening to tap into my fortune. No—better he thought I was as poor as he did now. “The roof still needs patching before the rain comes,” he said casually.
I stared at him in disbelief. “The roof? I’ve been cleaning pig filth since dawn. ”
“Do you prefer to sleep under the rain again?
”
I knew what he was doing—always testing, always waiting for me to admit defeat and confess to having the means to hire someone else. “Fine,” I said sweetly. “But while I’m doing that, perhaps you could finally fix that table that wobbles every time we eat, and the door that sticks? And we need more firewood.
”
A spark of amusement flashed in his eyes. “Anything else, my lady? ”
“Actually, yes. We need clean water from the well.
”
He bowed mockingly. “As you wish. ”
By late afternoon the next day, I was perched precariously on the edge of our cabin’s roof, hammering reeds into place to patch the worst of the holes. The autumn wind had picked up, making my already precarious position more dangerous.
Eventually, my foot slipped completely on the damp thatch, and I slid several feet before frantically clawing at the edge. Suddenly, strong hands gripped my calves, steadying me. “I’ve got you. ” Reeve’s voice came from below, surprisingly urgent.
I froze, my heart hammering in my chest as he climbed the ladder one-handed, still maintaining his grip on me. “I told you to be careful. ”
“I had it under control. ”
“You were about to control yourself right off the roof.
” He withdrew his arm slowly before adding, “Perhaps we should finish this together? ”
The unexpected concession left me momentarily speechless. But before I could respond, a palace guard startled us both. He stood on our threshold, his uniform immaculate against the rustic surroundings.
“You’re needed at the palace,” he said to Reeve without preamble. “Tomorrow at dawn. ”
I frowned in confusion, but Reeve’s expression revealed nothing. “For what purpose?
”
“The steward didn’t say. Only that your skills are required. ”
After a moment’s hesitation, Reeve nodded, and the guard departed without further explanation. “The palace?
” I asked. “What business do you have there? ”
“I don’t know. This is the first I’ve heard of it.
”
His evasiveness only heightened my suspicion. “I’ll need to leave before dawn,” he continued, changing the subject. “While I’m gone, see if you can trade some of those vegetables for salt. ”
“Fine,” I agreed reluctantly.
Over the following weeks, Reeve’s visits to the palace became regular. Three weeks after his first summons, I woke to an empty cabin, the mating bond feeling strangely taut with his absence. Each time he left, the sensation grew stronger—a physical pull that left me restless and irritable until his return. I spent the day struggling with the garden, fighting stubborn soil and my own inexperience.
As the sun began to set with no sign of Reeve, the bond’s pull intensified from discomfort to something closer to pain. I paced the small cabin, unable to focus on any task, my skin hypersensitive as though anticipating a touch that wouldn’t come. “You’re late,” I said when he finally returned long after dark, the relief immediate and overwhelming. Reeve looked exhausted, but he carried a larger purse than usual, which he placed on the table.
“For household expenses. ”
I stared at the coins. “What are you really doing at the palace, Reeve? ”
“Does it matter?
The money keeps us fed. ”
“It matters if you’re doing something illegal. Or dangerous. ”
“It’s neither,” he assured me, though something in his tone suggested he wasn’t being entirely truthful.
Before I could press further, he swayed slightly, catching himself on the table’s edge. “You’re exhausted,” I observed, momentarily setting aside my suspicions. “When did you last eat? ”
“Yesterday,” he admitted.
I guided him to sit, the brief contact sending warmth flowing through our bond. We ate in silence, the unspoken awareness of its need hanging between us. That night, as we lay six feet apart, I found myself hyperaware of every movement, every breath from across the room. The bond hummed between us, unsatisfied and insistent.
I wondered if he felt it too—this growing need for contact. Just as I was finally drifting to sleep, his voice came softly through the darkness. “Tomorrow I’ll help you with the garden. ”
It wasn’t an apology, but it was something close.
“Thank you,” I replied, equally soft. Another silence. Then, “The palace will require me three days a week from now on. ”
The bond twinged at the news, a physical manifestation of my unspoken concerns.
More absences. More secrets. “I see,” was all I said, though my mind raced with questions I knew he wouldn’t answer. Spring came, and with it, Reeve’s absences grew longer.
I sat by the window, my eyes fixed on the path that cut through the trees. He should have been home hours ago. His visits to the palace had increased from three days a week to five, sometimes overnight, and the growing distance between us only seemed to intensify the bond’s pull. When Reeve’s tall figure finally emerged from the dark forest, relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
“You’re late,” I said as the door creaked open. I risked a glance and regretted it instantly. His hair was damp with snow, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his eyes—God, those eyes—dark with something I shouldn’t name. “Have you eaten?
”
“At the palace. ” His voice came low, strained. He didn’t sit. He lingered, taut as a bowstring.
The silence stretched, oppressive. “I fixed another leak in the roof,” I blurted, my throat dry. “Thank you. ” His answer was soft, but the muscle ticking in his jaw betrayed his tension.
The bond pulled at me like a tether. My body ached for contact. “Could you help me with something? ” I asked, my voice breathier than I intended.
His eyes snapped to mine, sharp and intent. “The hooks on my dress,” I said, gesturing to my back. “I can’t reach them. ”
The air grew hot, stifling.
His silence lasted a beat too long before he nodded. “Turn around. ”
I obeyed, my pulse skittering. The first brush of his fingers at my nape made me shiver.
The hooks came undone one by one, each touch maddeningly careful, his knuckles grazing bare skin. I bit my lip to stifle a sound, tilting imperceptibly back against him. “Your scent,” he murmured, voice hoarse. He said nothing more, but his breath shifted, and I realized he was leaning closer, drinking me in.
My eyes fluttered shut. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d give in, sink his teeth into my skin like the bond demanded. Instead, with a ragged breath, he forced the last hook loose. “All done.
”
I turned slowly, my loosened dress slipping scandalously off one shoulder. His gaze dropped to the exposed skin, his nostrils flaring. “Anything else you need? ” he asked.
We stood caught in a terrible standoff, the bond thrumming between us like a drumbeat. “No,” I murmured, waiting for him to say something. Frustration flickered across his features before he tore his gaze away. “All right.
I’ll go check the woodpile. ”
And then he was gone, the cold air rushing in again as the door slammed. The next morning, I woke to an empty cabin yet again. The bond’s discomfort was immediate and insistent, a hollow feeling beneath my breastbone that grew more pronounced with each passing hour.
By midday, my skin felt too tight, my nerves too raw. By evening, I was pacing the small cabin, unable to settle to any task. That night, I found myself lying in his bed instead of my own, face pressed into his pillow, breathing in his scent. It only made the ache worse.
The following day, he still hadn’t returned, and I ventured into the village for supplies, hoping human contact might distract me. At the market, I overheard a villager speaking with several men, their voices grave. “Three travelers attacked already. King’s offering a substantial bounty to whoever can drive off the rogues.
”
“Rogue shifters, they say, coming down from the northern hills. ”
The rest of my trip proved even more unpleasant—accidental touches that sent unwanted thoughts flooding into my mind. By the time I returned to the cabin, my head throbbed and my patience had worn dangerously thin. When Reeve finally returned that evening, I was at the breaking point.
He looked worse than I felt—haggard, eyes bloodshot, his movements stiff as though he were in pain. Neither of us spoke immediately. We circled each other warily, like animals unsure whether to fight or flee. “You were gone longer than expected,” I finally said, the accusation thinly veiled.
“Yes. ” His voice was hoarse, his eyes never leaving me. “Did you miss me? ”
“Hardly noticed you were gone,” I lied, even as the bond hummed between us, betraying my words.
The tension was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken need. Reeve stood too close and not close enough, his scent enveloping me, making it difficult to think clearly. “Perhaps,” he said abruptly, his voice strained, “you could go gather firewood? The pile is getting low.
”
Something in me snapped—three days of the bond’s torment, of missing him despite myself, of wondering where he went and what he did. And now this again, giving me tasks to taunt me? “Right,” I said. “And perhaps you should try earning that bounty being offered for rogues in the northern hills.
”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Where did you hear about that? ”
“At the village today. ” I met his eyes.
“This place is running ragged, and your work at the palace—whatever it is—isn’t helping. ”
Understanding dawned in his eyes, followed quickly by disbelief. “You want me to hunt them? The rogues?
”
“Why not? ” I snapped. “We could use the coins. And since you’re so eager to be away from here—” I let the implication hang.
“So that’s what you want, Sylvie? ” His voice was low and intense. “For me to leave? ”
The words stuck in my throat.
*No,* I wanted to say. *What I want is for you to choose me. To love me. For me, not for my fortune.
* But the memory of all the things I’d heard people think about me on a daily basis made me feel insecure. And so instead, I said, “What I want doesn’t seem to matter much to you, does it? You come and go as you please. ”
He stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
Then, without a word, he turned and began gathering his things. A flutter of panic rose in my chest. “Now? I hadn’t expected you to acquiesce so readily.
But you’ve only just returned, Reeve. ”
He paused at the door, finally meeting my eyes. “I’ll bring back your bounty,” he said. “You’ll see.
”
“At least take others with you,” I called after him. Pain blossomed in my chest as the door closed behind him. I sank to the floor, wondering how our dance of challenge and counter-challenge had spiraled so disastrously out of control. Four days passed, and Reeve had yet to return.
I alternated between pacing the cabin and walking the path to the village, hoping for news. The bond had moved beyond pain into a dull, constant ache that made it difficult to eat or sleep. Today, the market was unusually quiet, the normal bustle subdued by something I couldn’t name. I approached the baker first, forcing a casual smile.
“Any news from the north? About the rogues? ”
The man’s face darkened. “Bad business, that.
Found a traveler yesterday morning. Torn to pieces, poor soul. ”
The blood drained from my face. “Where?
” I managed, barely able to form the word. “Northern crossroads by the old oak. Exactly where those rogues were last seen. ” He shook his head sadly.
“Tall fellow, they said. Dark hair. Couldn’t identify much else, given the state of him. ”
Tall.
Dark-haired. My legs gave way beneath me, and I would have collapsed if not for the baker’s steadying hand on my arm. His thoughts invaded my mind immediately. *Poor thing.
Must be her husband they found. *
“No,” I whispered, pulling away from his touch. The world tilted sideways, colors bleeding together. I didn’t remember walking home.
One moment I was in the village, the next I was stumbling through our door, collapsing beside the cold hearth. My hands moved mechanically, building a fire I couldn’t feel, my body going through motions while my mind circled one terrible truth. Reeve was dead. I had sent him to his death.
“You stubborn, impossible man,” I whispered to the empty room. “Why did you have to prove yourself? Why couldn’t you have stayed? ”
The questions hung in the air unanswered.
I wrapped my arms around myself, rocking slightly as the truth I’d been fighting finally broke through. I loved him. Not just desired him, not just needed him for the bond, not just appreciated his presence. I loved his quiet strength, the gentleness in hands capable of such power.
I loved how he challenged me, matched me stubborn for stubborn. I loved the rare smiles that transformed his face, the way he watched me when he thought I wasn’t looking. And I had sent him to his death with cruel words and wounded pride. A sob tore from my throat, raw and broken.
So what if he’d married me for my money? I’d been poor for three months and found it incredibly difficult. Reeve had been poor his entire life. Naturally, he longed for a better future.
The sound of the door latch lifting barely registered through my grief. The rush of cold air from outside went unnoticed. It was only when a shadow fell across me that I looked up, not daring to believe what my senses told me. Reeve stood in the doorway—haggard but very much alive.
Blood stained his shirt, a fresh cut marked his cheek, but he was there. For a moment, I thought I’d conjured him from pure longing, a phantom born of desperation and grief. But phantoms didn’t bleed. “I got your bounty,” he said, tossing a small pouch onto the table.
“What are you doing on the—are you crying? ”
The question, so mundane after the hell I’d endured, broke something loose inside me. “You idiot,” I finally managed, my voice hoarse from crying. “I thought you were dead.
”
Confusion crossed his face. “Dead? Why? ”
“Because it’s been four days,” I cried, rising to my feet.
“And there was a man killed by wolves at the northern crossroads. ”
His eyes widened slightly. “Well, that wasn’t me,” he explained quite uselessly. “Obviously!
” I screamed, relief giving way to anger. “But how was I supposed to know that? You just left. ”
“Because you asked me to,” he reminded me.
“I didn’t think you’d actually go! ”
Reeve blinked. He took a step toward me, then another, his movements cautious. “You were worried about me,” he observed.
“Well, of course I was. ” My voice broke, and with it, the last of Reeve’s restraint. His eyes darkened, pupils swallowing the gray, his wolf rising to the surface. “Sylvie,” he said, my name low and rough, like gravel dragged across skin.
That was all—one word—and I shattered. Our bodies collided, his mouth crushed against mine, wild and unrestrained. The bond surged, vicious and sweet, a flood of heat that made me moan into his kiss. My hands clawed at him, desperate to prove he was real.
His shirt tore beneath my fingers, and he groaned as though the sound of fabric ripping was too much to bear. He lifted me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist, my back pressing to the wall before I even realized we had moved. “Tell me to stop,” he ground out against my throat. “I’ll stop if you—”
“Don’t you dare,” I gasped, dragging him back.
The kiss was endless, brutal with need, until he carried me to the bed. For one suspended heartbeat, our eyes met. His were dark and starving, but vulnerable too, almost reverent. Then thought dissolved.
Words became meaningless. His mouth claimed mine again, and the rest was heat and pressure, fabric tearing, skin against skin. The bond wrapped tight around us, electric and merciless, amplifying every touch. When we finally came together, it was with the force of inevitability, the breaking of a storm that had threatened for far too long.
It was consuming and raw, our wolves howling through the bond, our bodies moving as one. Later, there would be words. Later, confessions. But not now.
Now, there was only this—his body tangled with mine, the bond blazing, and the truth neither of us could deny anymore. We needed each other. Three days passed in a blissful haze. I lay tangled in the bedsheets, Reeve’s arm draped possessively across my waist, his breath warm against my neck.
“We should probably get up,” I murmured. Reeve’s response was to pull me closer. “Why? With that bounty you made me get, we don’t need to work for at least another month.
”
I laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “You plan to keep me here indefinitely? ”
“Why not? It’s a good plan.
” His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine. “The best I’ve had in years, in fact. ”
The bond hummed contentedly between us, warm and vibrant. Through it, I could sense his happiness, his satisfaction—emotions that mirrored my own so perfectly it was sometimes difficult to tell where my feelings ended and his began.
“You’re happy,” I said, touching his face wonderingly. His eyes softened as he caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Did you doubt it? ”
Before I could respond, a sharp knock at the door interrupted us, making Reeve groan.
“Ignore it,” he said, burying his face in my hair. “They’ll go away. ”
The knocking came again, more insistent this time, followed by a stern voice. “Open up, beggar.
You were expected at the palace yesterday. ”
I stiffened, but Reeve seemed unconcerned. “Not now,” he called, his lips finding the curve of my neck. “The king commands your presence immediately.
”
I pulled back slightly. “Reeve, the king. ”
“He’ll wait,” my husband murmured, reclaiming my mouth in a kiss. I broke away, breathless but determined.
“You can’t ask a king to wait. ”
Reeve laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Are you worried about me? ”
“Of course I’m worried.
” I swatted his shoulder. “This isn’t funny, Reeve. Be serious. ”
His grin widened, and he looked absolutely delighted.
“Fine,” he conceded, stealing one more kiss. “I’ll go, but I’ll be back soon. ” Another kiss, deeper this time. “Tonight.
Don’t go anywhere. ”
“As if I could,” I murmured against his lips, the bond singing at his touch. Eventually, he disentangled himself from the sheets, dressing quickly while I watched from the bed. He paused at the door, his eyes lingering on me with such naked want that I blushed.
“Tonight,” he promised again. And then he was gone. I sighed, stretching languidly before finally rising to dress. I was just fastening my last buttons when another knock came at the door.
Laughing, I moved to answer it. “What did you forget this time? ” I called, swinging the door open with a smile. The smile froze on my face.
It wasn’t Reeve. Elaine stood on my doorstep, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. “Hi, Sylvie,” she said, her voice strained. “I need to speak with you.
”
I instinctively tried to close the door, but her foot wedged into the gap. “Please,” she begged. “Just hear me out. ”
Against my better judgment, I relented, stepping back to allow her entry.
“Talk about what? ” I asked, crossing my arms defensively. “About how you and Edmund were in love and failed to tell me? ”
Elaine’s chin lifted, a flash of defiance in her tear-filled eyes.
“You can’t fault me for falling in love. ”
“I’m not! ” I retorted. “I’m angry you didn’t tell me.
Why act like nothing was going on? Why let me continue planning a wedding to a man who was in love with you? ”
“You know why. ” Elaine’s voice hardened.
“Because while your darling father adopted me, he failed to put me in his will. I’m left with nothing. ”
“Well, I didn’t know that at the time, Elaine. ”
“Because you didn’t check.
” Her words were sharp, accusatory. “Because you never had to worry about things like this, did you? ”
Shame and anger warred within me. “And you didn’t think to just ask for my help?
I would have given it to you, Elaine. You didn’t have to lie to humiliate me. ”
Elaine’s composure cracked, tears spilling down her cheeks. “You’re right.
I’m sorry. ” She reached out, her fingers brushing my arm. Immediately, her thoughts flooded into my mind. *Wait till your husband kicks you out when he finds you haven’t inherited.
You’ll know humiliation then. *
I recoiled from the touch, the bitterness in her thoughts startling in its intensity. “First of all,” I said coldly, “not only did I inherit, but second, my husband doesn’t know—and he loves me anyway. ”
Elaine gasped, her eyes widening.
“Edmund was right. You can read minds. ”
Her expression shifted from shock to calculation. “And you do have the money.
”
I realized I’d been baited into revealing both my ability and my financial status. Elaine’s tears dried with suspicious quickness. “Sylvie, please! ” Her tone turned pleading again.
“Edmund and I need that money. You owe me this. I’m your sister. ”
“Look where I live!
” I gestured around the modest cabin. “It’s hard, yes, but there’s joy to be found here. Money isn’t everything. ”
“Easy for you to say.
” Elaine’s voice turned bitter again. “If you don’t give me what I’m due, I’ll tell your husband how you lied and hid your fortune from him. ” She stepped closer, her eyes hard. “Either he’ll hate you for lying, or he’ll show his true colors.
Either way, you’ll lose him. ”
The threat struck my deepest fear. Reeve and I had only just found each other. Our relationship was still so new, so fragile.
What if Elaine was right? What if learning about my deception shattered the trust we’d begun to build? “Fine,” I said quietly. “Half of it.
I’ll meet with you and sign the necessary papers. ”
“Today,” Elaine said firmly. “I’ve already sent for your financial advisor. He’ll meet us at the old mill by the river at sundown.
”
I nodded stiffly. “I’ll be there. ”
After Elaine left, I paced the cabin, my mind racing. I’d have to tell Reeve the truth eventually, but not yet.
Not when we’d just found our way to each other. I needed time to find the right words, to explain why I’d lied. The hours crawled by. As the sun began its descent, I prepared to leave, hoping Reeve would stay occupied at the palace until after I returned.
I had just wrapped my cloak around my shoulders when the door opened. My husband stood there, his face alight with the same joy that had been there when he left. But his smile faltered slightly as he took in my cloaked form. “Going somewhere?
” he asked. “I—yes,” I stammered, my mind racing for a plausible excuse. “One of the village women needs help with her sick child. ”
His head tilted slightly.
“Which woman? ”
“The miller’s wife,” I improvised. “The miller doesn’t have a wife,” Reeve said, his voice carefully neutral. “Or children.
”
“I meant the blacksmith’s wife,” I fumbled. “I get confused with all these new neighbors. ”
Reeve studied me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. The joy that had been radiating through our bond dimmed, replaced by a cautious wariness.
“Are you being honest with me, Sylvie? ” he asked. I swallowed hard, guilt pressing against my ribs. “Well, what about you?
Will you tell me what you’re really doing at the palace? ”
His expression closed off, the warmth in his eyes cooling. “Be careful,” was all he said. The walk to the old mill was torturous, my mind replaying our exchange.
The bond felt muted, dampened by the distance and the lies between us. I’d fix this, I promised myself. Once I dealt with Elaine, I’d return home and tell Reeve everything. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the abandoned building.
The perfect place for a clandestine meeting—or a trap. “Let’s get this over with,” I thought, approaching. To my surprise, it was Edmund who stepped out from behind a pillar, not Elaine. His expression was unexpectedly gentle.
“Sylvie,” he said, moving toward me. “There’s another option. You could keep your entire fortune. All of it.
”
“Where’s Elaine? ” I replied warily. “She sent me to handle the negotiations. ” Edmund reached for my hand.
“As for keeping your fortune—ask for a divorce. Return to me. I made a mistake, Sylvie. I do care for you.
”
I tried to pull my hand away, but he held fast—and his thoughts flooded my mind. *I’d rather have the entire fortune than Elaine if I have to. I’ll sign whatever she wants to reassure her. *
The naked calculation in his thoughts revolted me.
“Let go of me,” I said. Surprisingly, he complied, his expression still earnest. “Think about it, Sylvie. You’re living in squalor.
You deserve better. ”
“Better like you? ” I turned to the advisor, who had watched the exchange with obvious discomfort. “Draw up the papers.
Elaine gets half of everything. I don’t care what she does with it or who she gives it to. ” I shot a pointed look at Edmund. “But know this: the moment you burn through it, there won’t be more.
This is all you get from me. ”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and left, desperate to return home. To Reeve. To explain everything and hope he understood.
To finally be honest with each other. But when I reached the cabin, breathless from my hurried pace, I found it dark and empty. He was gone. Morning light filtered through the cabin windows, and I hadn’t slept.
I’d spent the night alternating between pacing the small space and sitting by the door, waiting for the sound of Reeve’s footsteps. He hadn’t returned. The bond felt strange—not broken, but muted, as though obscured by fog. I could still sense him, somewhere distant, but his emotions were indecipherable.
Was he angry? Hurt? I pressed my hand to my chest, where the ache of the bond had settled like a stone. What a fool I’d been.
I should have told him the truth from the beginning—about my fortune, about everything. Instead, I’d allowed fear to guide my actions. A knock at the door sent me scrambling to answer it, hope surging through my veins. But it wasn’t Reeve.
A palace guard stood on my doorstep, expression formal. “My husband isn’t home,” I informed him. “I’m here for you, my lady. King Caspian requests your presence at the palace.
”
I blinked. “Why would the king want to see me? ”
The guard’s expression remained impassive. “I wasn’t informed of the reason.
”
I changed into my cleanest dress—still patched and faded, but the best I had. As the guard escorted me toward a carriage, my mind raced with possibilities. Had something happened to Reeve? Was he hurt?
Arrested? The palace loomed before us, gleaming white against the afternoon sky. Finally, we reached the throne room. Massive doors swung open to reveal a cavernous chamber filled with nobles and courtiers.
At the far end, seated upon an ornate throne, was the masked figure of King Caspian. Even from a distance, the intricate silver and onyx mask was unmistakable. “Lady Sylvie of the Eastern Provinces,” the guard announced, his voice echoing through the suddenly silent room. All eyes turned to me as I walked the seemingly endless distance to the throne.
When I reached the dais, I sank into a deep curtsy, head bowed. “Your Majesty. ”
“Rise, Lady Sylvie. ” The king’s voice was resonant, carrying easily through the large chamber.
I rose, keeping my eyes respectfully lowered. “You summoned me, Your Majesty. ”
“Indeed. ” The king leaned forward slightly.
“I have a proposition for you. ”
Confusion flickered through me. What could the king possibly want from me? “I’ve been informed by your sister of a rather remarkable ability you possess,” the king continued.
“The ability to read minds. ”
My head snapped up in shock, my eyes meeting his through the eye holes of his mask. So Elaine had told him. Had she told the entire court as well?
“Is this true? ” the king pressed. There was no point in lying. Not here, not now.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I confirmed with a small nod. A murmur rippled through the assembled courtiers. The king rose from his throne. “Such an ability is invaluable.
It would be a tremendous asset to a ruler—to know the true thoughts and intentions of allies and enemies alike. ” He paused, then continued with a formality that sent a chill down my spine. “Lady Sylvie, I would like to take you as my queen. ”
Gasps and whispers erupted throughout the throne room.
I stood frozen, unable to comprehend what I’d just heard. “Your Majesty, I’m already mated,” I stammered once I found my voice. The king waved a dismissive hand. “I am ruler of these lands.
If I wish it, your current bond can be annulled. ” His tone softened slightly. “I will not force you. The choice is ultimately yours.
But consider what I offer—a position of honor and power, wealth beyond imagining, the chance to use your unique gift to help an entire kingdom. What does your beggar husband offer that could possibly compare? ”
The courtiers watched, breathless with anticipation, waiting for my response. “Your Majesty honors me beyond measure,” I said carefully.
“But I must decline. ”
The king’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. “You would refuse a king for a beggar? ”
I lifted my chin, finding strength in the certainty of my heart.
“He is no beggar in my eyes. He is my husband and my mate. ”
“He has been your husband for merely two months,” the king countered. “Two months during which you have lived in poverty, tending roofs and pig pens, never having enough to eat.
You would give up a kingdom for this life? ”
“I would give up a kingdom for a life with the man I love,” I said. A hush fell over the throne room. The king remained motionless for a long moment, his eyes searching mine through the mask.
Then, just as he was about to respond, a commanding voice cut through the silence. “Enough. ”
Every head turned toward the sound. At the entrance to the throne room stood another man, dressed in royal finery, wearing an identical mask to the king’s.
He strode forward with purpose, his bearing regal and confident. Confusion rippled through the court as the two masked figures faced each other. Then, to my astonishment, the king who had been speaking to me removed his mask, revealing the face of an older man I didn’t recognize. And to everyone’s stupor, he knelt in front of the newcomer.
“Your Majesty,” he said, before announcing to the court, “bow before your true king. ”
I sank into a deep curtsy along with everyone else, my mind reeling. The masked king approached where I knelt, his steps measured and deliberate. He stopped directly before me, then knelt down to my level.
“Look at me, Sylvie,” he said softly. Slowly, I raised my head. Through the eye holes of the mask, I met his gaze—gray eyes that I knew, that I’d gazed into countless times over the past months. With trembling hands, he removed the mask.
Reeve’s face was revealed, his expression a mixture of apprehension and hope. I gasped. The courtiers’ exclamations faded to a distant hum as I stared at the man before me—my husband, my mate, my king. “You,” I whispered, unable to form any other word.
Reeve raised a hand, silencing the court before returning his attention to me. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice pitched for my ears alone. “I should have told you sooner. The mask allows me to move among my court and people unrecognized, to learn the true nature of those around me.
Sometimes as a courtier, sometimes—” He smiled ruefully. “Sometimes even as a beggar. ”
I stared at him, still unable to process the magnitude of his deception. Seeing my shocked silence, his smile faded.
“I’ve been able to read minds since birth,” he continued, his voice softening further. “It’s an isolating ability, as you’ve learned. I was always well aware that if people were kind to me, it was because they wanted something. Or because I was their prince, then their king.
They loved me not for myself, but for what I could give them. ”
The words resonated within me, echoing my own experience since gaining the ability. The constant doubt, the inability to trust. His hands—those familiar hands that had touched me so tenderly—reached for mine.
“When you kissed me that day, a beggar you’d just met, I dared to hope you might be different. I wanted to know if you could love me without a crown, without wealth, without status. If you could love me as just a man. ”
The full magnitude of his deception crashed over me.
Months of deliberate lies, calculated tests. Without conscious thought, propelled by shock and betrayal, I raised my hand and slapped him hard. Reeve’s head snapped to the side with the force of the blow, but when he turned back to me, he was smiling ruefully. “I deserved that,” he admitted.
I slapped him again, tears burning in my eyes. He accepted the second blow without protest, but caught my wrist gently before I could think of delivering a third. “You were testing me too, Sylvie,” he said quietly. “You know what it’s like hearing others’ thoughts—all the dark, selfish impulses that cross even the kindest minds.
How rare it is to hear genuine, selfless love. ”
The truth of his words struck me to the core. We had been mirrors of each other—both gifted or cursed with the same ability, both desperate to find someone who would love them truly, not for what they possessed. “I can’t read your mind,” he said, his thumb brushing gently over my pulse point.
“You’re the only person whose thoughts remain hidden from me. I believe it’s because you were meant to be mine. Just as I can’t read your thoughts, you can’t read mine. ”
Tears spilled down my cheeks as the full weight of our shared loneliness, our parallel journeys, settled over me.
All this time, we had been testing each other, pushing each other away out of fear, when what we both truly wanted was to be drawn closer. Reeve knelt before me again, heedless of the watching court, of his royal dignity. “Can you forgive me, Sylvie? ” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.
“Can you trust me again? Will you be my queen? Not because of my crown, but because we were made for each other? ”
I looked down at him.
This powerful king on his knees before me, his eyes reflecting the same vulnerability, the same hope I felt in my own heart. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice gaining strength as I spoke. “Yes, I forgive you—if you’ll forgive me. ”
Joy blazed across his face, more brilliant than any crown.
Reeve rose to his feet and pulled me into his arms, his lips finding mine in a kiss that promised a lifetime of truth between us. The court erupted in cheers, but I heard nothing beyond the beating of my mate’s heart against my own, and the sweet, perfect silence of his thoughts. A silence that meant I would have to trust in his love, and he in mine, from now on.
The way it was always meant to be.
