Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Daciana
“I don’t understand.” I look between Lucian and Seth, bewildered. My heart pounds in my chest, and a sick feeling is spreading through my gut. “Have I done something wrong? I was very vigilant during my duties. If I’ve offended Astra in some way—”
“Daciana, no.” Lucian’s voice is firm but kind. He exchanges a glance with Seth, then focuses on me. “Astra is very happy with your service. She doesn’t want you to leave her side, either. But we need a liaison between the Kingdom and Kieran’s pack, and he seems to prefer you.”
The words make my chest tighten. Prefer me? What does that even mean? “Why?” The word comes out sounding smaller than it should. “Why does he prefer me?”
Lucian and Seth share another look, and neither of them answers my question.
Lucian’s jaw is set. “It’s a temporary assignment. And it’s final. You have no choice but to report to Kieran.”
He says it like I’m being sent into danger, like this is some kind of punishment. My stomach twists. Seth won’t even look at me, his expression hard as granite.
“When do I start?” I ask quietly.
“Now,” Seth says. “Report to his chambers immediately.”
“Alright.” My voice is hollow. I bow my head slightly—a gesture of respect I’ve performed a thousand times—and turn toward the door. My boots sound too loud against the stone floor as I leave Lucian’s study, each step echoing in the silence behind me.
The door closes with a soft click, and I’m alone in the corridor. I pause, pressing my palm against the cool stone wall, trying to steady my breathing. My mind spins with questions I can’t answer, confusion tangling with something that feels uncomfortably like anticipation.
Why is Kieran paying so much attention to me?
It’s only been a week since the attack. Three days in the healer’s compound, four days recovering in my chambers, and this is my first day back on duty.
Yet somehow, in that short time, everything has shifted.
Like the food that has been arriving at my quarters.
Rich broths that taste of comfort. Fresh bread still warm from the oven.
And the fruits! Exotic things I’ve never seen before, bursting with flavor, each one perfectly ripe.
I can’t make sense of it.
Kieran has never approached me with any intention that would imply he’s interested in me.
Not like that. Our interactions have been respectful, if not a little harsh from my end.
I’ve been defensive, closed off, suspicious of his motives.
And he has been…so very gentle toward me.
His touch when he healed me. The quiet concern in his eyes when he visited.
The way he speaks to me like I’m something fragile and precious instead of a soldier trained to kill.
But he’s an alpha. Powerful, ancient, with magic coursing through his veins. What could he possibly want with me?
I push off the wall and force my feet to move. The palace corridors stretch before me, familiar yet somehow foreign now. Guards nod as I pass. Servants step aside. They don’t know that everything has just changed, that I’m walking toward something I don’t understand and can’t control.
When I reach Kieran’s chambers, I pause outside his door, my hand raised to knock. My pulse races, and I hate that I’m nervous. I’m a warrior, damn it. I’ve faced enemies that would make most people piss themselves. Why does standing in front of this door make my palms sweat?
Because he saved your life, a voice whispers in my mind. Because every time he looks at you, you feel something move beneath your skin. Because you dream about his penetrating eyes and silver-threaded hair and hands that were so gentle when they touched your face.
I shove the thoughts away and knock.
“Come in,” his voice calls from inside.
I open the door and step into his chambers. They’re larger than mine, befitting an alpha of his status. The main room is elegant but not ostentatious: dark wood furniture, thick rugs, a fireplace that is unlit in the warmth of the afternoon. But I don’t see him anywhere.
“Alpha Kieran?” I call out, glancing around.
His reply comes from an attached room to the right. “I’ll be right there.”
I wait, hands clasped behind my back in a soldier’s stance. Seconds tick by. Then, I hear it: a loud crash, like something heavy hitting the floor.
My training kicks in. I don’t hesitate; I move. I burst through the doorway and stop dead.
Kieran is standing in his bathroom, completely naked, staring down at an iron basket that has clearly fallen over. Water drips from his hair, running in rivulets down his chest, to his stomach, following the lines of hard muscle.
My eyes take him in.
All of him.
Heat floods my face, spreading to my neck. I’ve seen naked men before; in training, in battle, it’s impossible not to. But this isn’t just any man. This is Kieran, and he’s…
“Oh gods,” I breathe, my voice strangled. I spin around so fast I almost trip over my own feet, pressing my hands to my cheeks. “I saw nothing! I saw absolutely nothing!”
His quiet laugh makes something flutter in my chest. “I told you to wait.”
“But I heard a crash!” My words come out too fast, too high. “I thought—I had to check—”
“I was bathing,” he says, amusement threading through his voice. It’s warm and rich and does nothing to tame the inferno raging through my body. “The basket fell. Nothing more dramatic than that.”
“Right. Of course. I’m sorry, I just—”
“Could you hand me my clothes?” he asks. “You’re standing right in front of them.”
I look down. Sure enough, there’s a neatly folded pile of clothing on a bench near the door. My hands shake as I grab them, squeezing my eyes shut so tightly that I see stars.
“Here,” I say, thrusting them in his general direction.
My knuckles meet warm, solid flesh instead of air.
His chest.
My eyes fly open in horror, and I find myself staring directly at him. He’s standing right in front of me, still gloriously, devastatingly unclothed, and he looks thoroughly amused.
“I—You—I didn’t mean—” The words tangle on my tongue. My brain has apparently stopped functioning. All I can process is the warmth of his skin against my fingers, the sight of his broad shoulders, how water still clings to the hair on his chest.
I stumble backward, nearly tripping again. “I’m so sorry! I’ll just…I’ll wait outside!”
I practically run from the bathroom, cheeks blazing, heart thundering so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t burst from my chest. In the main room, I press my back against the wall and try to remember how to breathe.
What the hell is happening to me?
I’m a trained warrior. I’ve killed enemies without flinching. I’ve stood beside the Queen and never wavered. But five seconds in that bathroom, and I turn into a blushing, stammering mess?
The image is seared into my mind. His shoulders. The defined muscles of his stomach. How his damp skin gleamed like bronze in the light filtering through the window. The scars that marked him—proof of battles fought and survived.
And…other things. Things I definitely should not be thinking about. Things that make heat pool low in my belly and my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin. I didn’t know men could be that…big! I’ve never seen—
My face burns even hotter, and I squeeze my eyes shut again, refusing to let my mind go there. Gods, what is wrong with me?
“Get yourself together,” I mutter, pressing my palms to my hot cheeks. “He’s an alpha. Your temporary assignment. That’s all.”
I hear movement from the bathroom. The rustle of fabric. He’s getting dressed. Thank the heavens.
I straighten my spine and school my expression into something resembling professionalism. I am Daciana, personal guard to the Queen, skilled warrior, survivor of near-fatal attacks. I will not be undone by the sight of a naked man, no matter how magnificent he is.
The door opens.
Kieran emerges, fully clothed now in simple, dark trousers and a loose, white shirt that is still unlaced at the collar. His hair is damp, pushed back from his face, and his eyes find mine instantly.
“Are you alright?” he asks, genuine concern beneath the amusement.
“Fine,” I say too quickly. “Perfectly fine. I apologize for barging in like that. It won’t happen again.”
He studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he moves toward a table where papers are spread out, giving me space. Letting me breathe.
“I wanted to discuss your new role as liaison,” he says, his voice professional now. But I catch the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
I clear my throat. “Of course. What do you want me to do?”
He glances back at me, and for just a second, heat flashes in his eyes. It’s gone so quickly, I think I might have imagined it, but it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Many things,” he says quietly. Then, more briskly, “But we can start with coordinating communication between my delegation and the royal court.”
I nod, trying to focus on his words instead of how his shirt hangs open at the throat, revealing a glimpse of the chest I just had my hands on.
This is going to be a very long assignment.
An hour later, I’m back in my own quarters, finally alone.
The meeting was professional. Straightforward.
Kieran outlined my duties: coordinating schedules, facilitating communication, ensuring his delegation’s needs are met while maintaining diplomatic protocol.
Nothing unusual. Nothing inappropriate. Except for the fact that he expects me to be by his side constantly.
Even at night: he’s making arrangements for me to be housed in the chamber next to his.
Why?
I’m supposed to be a liaison. What does he think he’ll need me for at three in the morning? A few ideas certainly come to mind, and each makes my head spin. He wouldn’t want that from me, though. I’m sure he has plenty of females back in his pack. And I know I’m not the most feminine woman around.