Chapter 5
· Aubrey ·
His hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers.
I can feel the slight tremble in his touch.
“I won’t lie to you, Bree,” he says, his eyes holding mine steadily.
“The process is intense and has risks. It’s why I never marked my late wife.
Had I, she would still be here, her Lycan wouldn’t have been so vulnerable.
I don’t want to make that same mistake with you. Once I mark you, I also change you.”
“With this ritual,” Soren begins, his voice steady and measured. “We will exchange blood and essence, meaning I’d mark you. The process is ancient, as old as our kind itself.”
Icy tendrils of fear wrap around my heart that beats a little faster.
“So you give me your blood, mark me and that’s it?” I ask.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he admits. “But I also won’t lie to you.
” He grabs my hand and presses my fingertips against his neck next to his Adam’s apple before moving to the other side of it and doing the same.
“Those small pockets will fill with venom when I mark you, I won’t just be marking you, I will be poisoning you. ”
“I don’t understand?” I admit.
“Lycan’s are venomous, my venom will enter your bloodstream, it will hurt. But my blood will counteract the poison stopping it from killing you, instead it will change you.”
I jerk my fingertips away when he growls, letting them fill with venom. My eyes widen watching his neck balloon slightly.
“Don’t be scared, Bree, I would never force this on you.
I would never hurt you. Your human form will be reshaped by what we call the Lycan essence, my venom and blood mingling together creates an elixir that enters your bloodstream.
It’s akin to a rebirth; you’ll lose a part of yourself to gain another. ”
A shudder runs through me. Lose a part of myself? I swallow hard, my mouth now dry.
“But it’s not without pain,” he warns me with an apologetic look in his eyes. “The transformation can be excruciating - your body will break down before it rebuilds itself and I will have to remain by your side pumping you full of my blood so the venom doesn’t burn it out of your system.”
His description echoes in my mind, my breath hitches in my throat as I imagine the agony that awaits me.
“Are you… are you certain you can do this?”
“I am.” He pauses, his gaze serious as he locks eyes with me. “But there is always risk involved.”
My heart thunders painfully against my ribs at his admission. Risk? What kind of risk?
“The risk,” he explains slowly, each word heavy with significance, “is that if something goes wrong during the transformation… it could kill you.”
His confession sends shockwaves through me. Death?
“It’s not something I’d ever force on you,” Soren assures me, his thumb tracing circles on my palm.
“But if we pursue this path, I’d want it to happen before we marry.
You should have the chance to fully understand, to learn to control your new abilities, not just for you, for Max also.
You’ll be quicker, stronger, and your instincts will go haywire for a little while. ”
I nod. The enormity of it all crashes over me like a wave. My heart stutters in my chest. I think of my grandmother, of Max, of the life I’ve started to build here. The thought of losing it all terrifies me.
“I’m scared, Soren,” I confess, hating how small my voice sounds. The possibility of death hangs in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. “I don’t know if I can…”
He pulls me close, his arms enveloping me in warmth. “We don’t have to decide anything now,” he murmurs into my hair. “Whatever happens, whatever you choose, I’m here. We can push the wedding back.”
“We can push it back?” I ask him and he nods. “But your mother has already—”
“She’ll understand. Now we really are getting married. I won’t lose you, Bree.”
“You wouldn’t be losing me,” I remind him.
He sighs heavily. “I am King, Bree. You will be my Queen. My weak spot, every kingdom will know that.”
“But you’re the only kingdom.”
He shakes his head. “There are other kingdoms; not as well known, they prefer to keep to themselves and out of the media. They will come for you.”
“That’s why your wife died, isn’t it? They sent people for her, sent the rogues?”
He shakes his head. “We aren’t sure; we never figured that out. All we learned was it was a rogue pack. The neighboring kingdoms denied any hand in it.”
“But you believe they did?”
He nods. “It’s why I take Max with me everywhere. It puts him in the limelight. But by doing so in a way that has protected him, my movements are watched by the councils, so are his. He is also too young right now to take over my place so not a threat to them.”
“How was your wife a threat?”
“A queen can rule without a king, just as I can without a queen. If I die, that title remains, especially if you’re carrying my heir. We can discuss it more later. For now just think about what I’ve said. I’ll speak with my mother about postponing the wedding.”
“Good thing she hasn’t sent invites out yet,” I tell him.
He nods, but I know she is meant to this week, though I wonder how upset she’ll be once she learns we are pushing the wedding back.
The grand castle looms ahead, its stone walls towering above the turrets reaching for the lingering clouds from the storm last night.
My heart pounds as we cross the threshold together, the oversized shirt Damian brought scratching my sensitive skin.
The staff bustle around us, their eyes fixed on tasks.
No whispers, no raised eyebrows—just the soft rustle of feather dust brushes and the clink of metal as they go about their duties.
“Everything okay?” Soren’s voice breaks through my thoughts, gently. I nod, forcing a smile. Guilt tugs at my insides, heavy and suffocating. I think of my past—my secrets—and consider telling him about Rhett. Yet the moment slips away, tangled up in uncertainty and Damian yelling in the distance.
Suddenly, Max bursts through a side door by the grand staircase.
He barrels toward us, his dark hair bouncing with each enthusiastic stride.
He leaps into Soren’s arms, wrapping his small legs around his father’s waist. “Daddy! Can Bree play with me? Please?” His bright blue eyes shine with hope, innocence radiating from him, making my heart squeeze at the thought of being his stepmother.
Soren chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Maybe after we shower, buddy.” He glances over at me and I nod, my cheeks heating.
“Okay,” Max whines.
My heart twists again, caught between the joy of this moment and the weight of my secret, knowing I could lose more than just Soren. I would also lose Max if he chose to believe Rhett over me.
“Sorry!” Damian rushes out from the same door, breathless and slightly disheveled.
“He just took off from me.” His apologetic expression shifts to one of playful exasperation as he pries Max from his father kicking and squirming.
Soren laughs in amusement. “You have to finish your math first,” Damian tells him as he tries to hold the squirming boy.
Max frowns, that youthful frustration palpable. “But I hate math!”
“To be a king, you must learn your numbers,” Damian says with a wink, coaxing a reluctant laugh from Max. He takes the boy’s hand, ushering him back down the hall. “You finish it and I will kick your ass in Mario Kart afterward,” Damian tells him.
“Yes!” Max cheers. “And I will kick your ass! Your gaming skills are just as horrible as your driving skills,” Max teases. His previous annoyance is forgotten as he races ahead, Damian trailing behind him while shaking his head.
With the chaos subsiding, Soren turns to me, his gaze holding mine steady. “Let’s get cleaned up.” He holds out his hand, and I take it, the warmth of his palm igniting something within me.
We move upstairs, the marble steps cool beneath my bare feet, and I can’t help but steal glances at him. As we reach our room, he pulls open the door, stepping into the bathroom.
“You definitely need to shower, you are covered in dirt. And I think I have moss stuck to my ass,” he laughs, stepping inside and turning on the shower.
Steam begins to rise, curling around us.
Soren helps me undress, his fingers brushing against my skin, sending shivers racing along my spine before dragging me in the shower with him.
The water cascades down, and he works his hands through my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp.
It feels divine—the tension of the night before melting away under his touch.
“Let me,” he says softly, guiding me to face him. He rinses the suds away. His gaze lingers on me, his eyes flicker, the hunger in his gaze causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in closer. And then, he steals a kiss.
Soren’s fingers glide over my shoulders, soft yet firm, sending tingles racing down my spine. I’m caught in a blissful haze, but as his lips brush against mine again, a knot of urgency tightens in my chest.
“Wait,” I whisper, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are darkened with desire.
“What’s wrong?”
“Max,” I remind him. “I promised I’d play with him. We can’t… you know.” My voice dips, barely above a murmur, trying to keep the moment from spiraling out of control.
Soren releases a heavy sigh, his brow furrowing. “You’re right,” he concedes reluctantly, though the heat in his expression doesn’t fade. “But—”
“No buts. You need to talk to your mother. The wedding invites… they’re going out soon.”
He hesitates, his fingers stilling along my waist. “Fine,” he says, running a hand through his wet hair. “I’ll talk to her. But after…” his eyes roam my body and a playful growl escapes him as he tugs me closer.
“After…” he repeats, his voice smoky and suggestive. I can’t help but laugh, the tension in the room melting away.
“Yes, after,” I agree with a certain shyness, his provoking gaze making my heart race.
We quickly finish rinsing off, our movements hurried, the tension shifting from intimate to practical. I grab a towel, wrapping it around myself as Soren does the same.
“Go, I’ll catch up with you after I dress,” I tell him, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of his touch on my skin. His reluctance is palpable, after one last lingering look, he nods and leaves the room.
Once I’m dressed in something comfortable and ready to face the world again, I find Soren downstairs in the living room.
Max is curled up beside him on an oversized couch, engrossed in a children’s book while Soren reads aloud.
The scene tugs at my heartstrings -- a picture of domestic bliss that makes my upcoming confession all the more daunting.
I join them on the couch, tentatively reaching out a hand to smooth down Max’s hair as he continues scanning over the pictures. He peeks up at me, his bright blue eyes shining with joy. “Bree!” he exclaims, hitching himself onto my lap and showing me his book.
“I thought you were seeing your mother?”
“She isn’t here, explains why Damian was watching Max. She went into town to see her friend, she’ll be home tonight,” Soren tells me and I glance at the window, the sky darkening as the sun begins falling. I nod.
Finally, after dinner and when Max drifts off to sleep after a movie and several stories, Soren and I tuck him into bed. It’s late when we finally find ourselves alone again in our room.
Soren wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer as we sit on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been distant tonight,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing small circles on my hip. “Is everything alright?”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I meet his eyes. “Soren,” I begin, my heart pounding in my chest when a knock sounds at our bedroom door. I quickly climb off Soren’s lap and he moves to answer the door. Opening the door, he reveals it’s his mother.
“Sorry to bother you both. Damian said you were looking for me and your father?” she asks Soren. Soren sighs and glances at me over his shoulder and I nod, slipping under the covers.
“Yeah, just let me get a shirt. I will meet you both in my study.” I give her a soft smile and wave and she wanders off while he grabs his shirt from the closet, Soren comes over and pecks my lips.
“Sleep, I’ll deal with my mother’s tantrums. I’ll be back after she has finished beating me,” he laughs. I giggle and get comfortable.