Chapter 25 Xelene
TWENTY-FIVE
XELENE
Xelene’s eyes snapped open before dawn, her heart already racing from dreams that had become increasingly vivid over the past three days.
Dreams of golden-blue eyes and powerful hands, of whispered promises and mate bonds that pulsed like a living thing between her ribs.
She pressed her palms against her face, trying to ground herself in reality rather than the intoxicating fantasy her subconscious kept weaving.
Today is the first day of the Trial of the Sun.
The thought hit her like cold water, and she sat up abruptly in the guest suite’s luxurious bed.
Somehow the past three days had passed in a blur—or more accurately, in a constant battle between instinct and control that she was losing miserably.
The completed mate bond had grown stronger with each passing day, demanding acknowledgment even as she fought to compartmentalize it into professional necessity.
As she got out of bed and started getting ready for the big day ahead, her reflection in the full-length mirror looked composed, but Xelene could see the cracks in her armor.
The way her green eyes held a new intensity, the slight tremor in her hands as she put on her dress, and the flush that crept up her neck thinking about yesterday’s catastrophic lapse in judgment.
God, what was I thinking?
The memory of yesterday’s training session flooded back with devastating clarity.
Lev had shifted back from his magnificent lion form, standing naked and gleaming with sweat from her demanding workout regimen.
She’d meant to maintain her professional distance unlike the previous three days, to hand him his clothes and move on to the library for strategy sessions.
Instead, she’d kissed him again.
Just like she had every single day since that first passionate encounter in the gym.
Each kiss had been deeper, hungrier, more desperate than the last. And yesterday.
.. yesterday she’d completely lost her mind.
Instead of pulling away after the kiss, she’d let him lay her back on the training bench.
Let his mouth worship every inch of her body until she’d screamed his name and shattered completely under his talented tongue.
The orgasm had been earth-shattering, but the aftermath had been worse.
Instead of calming the sexual tension that had been building between them, it had only intensified her craving for him.
The mate bond had pulsed with satisfaction and increasing demand, as if her body was confirming what her mind refused to accept.
I belong with him.
The thought terrified her more than any reputation crisis or one-night stand gone wrong she’d ever faced. Xelene Warren didn’t belong to anyone. She controlled her own destiny. She didn’t surrender to primal instincts or mystical bonds that defied logic.
Yet here she was, applying concealer to hide the dark circles under her eyes from three nights of restless sleep, knowing that every cell in her body yearned to be near Lev Marcan.
She selected a deep emerald dress from her wardrobe—professional yet elegant, suitable for observing the most crucial political event in the pride’s recent history, aside from King Rorick’s funeral.
The color brought out her eyes and complemented her dark hair, which she styled in a sleek chignon that projected competence and control.
At least I can look like I have my life together.
The irony was comical at this point. She’d spent decades perfecting the art of managing other people’s lives. Now her own controlled life crumbled around a golden-haired lion shifter who she was permanently bound to through a supernatural bond and who could sense her every emotion through it.
As she fastened her earrings, Xelene caught herself thinking about the whispers that had been following them for the past three days.
Pride members had started noticing the way she and Lev gravitated toward each other during public outings, and the electric tension that crackled between them during the PR events Janice and Benjamin had organized.
It wasn’t the typical boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic they’d been pretending to maintain.
It was something much deeper, much more primal.
She’d overheard fragments of conversations—mentions of mate bonds and fated connections, speculation about whether the future king had found his queen.
No one had confronted them directly, but Xelene felt exposed nonetheless, as if her most private struggles were written across her face for anyone to read.
Three more days.
That’s what she kept telling herself. Today and the next two days of Lev’s Trial, and then she’d have to make the choice that had been haunting her since that accidental marking in the royal vehicle.
Stay on Nova Aurora and surrender to a bond she didn’t understand, abandoning the life and career she’d built on Earth.
Or return to her carefully controlled existence, leaving behind the man who’d somehow become essential to her very breath.
The thought of walking away from Lev made her chest ache with pain, but the alternative—trusting in something as unpredictable as love—seemed equally impossible.
A sharp knock interrupted her internal turmoil.
“Xelene? You ready?” Janice’s voice carried through the door, bright with forced cheer that didn’t quite mask her own nervousness about the day ahead.
“Almost,” Xelene called back, taking one final look in the mirror.
The woman staring back at her looked every inch the successful reputation consultant—polished, professional, unshakeable.
Only Xelene could see the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface, well, obviously Lev could see it too now through the completed mate bond.
See the way her careful composure was held together by sheer willpower and stubborn pride.
But he still wasn’t pushing her for more.
He was becoming such a restrained and responsible prince with each passing day.
Alright, Xelene, you can do this. One day at a time.
The mental pep talk felt hollow, but it would have to suffice.
Xelene squared her shoulders, grabbed her portfolio folder filled with notes and contingency plans, and headed for the door.
Whatever happened during Lev’s Trial, she’d be there to support him with every skill in her considerable arsenal.
The castle’s grand foyer buzzed with nervous energy as Xelene descended the marble staircase.
Benjamin stood near the massive front doors in formal ceremonial attire, his usually easy demeanor replaced by focused intensity.
Janice paced near the ornate windows as she checked and rechecked her notes about the day’s proceedings.
And Lev...
Lev commanded the center of the space like the future king he was born to be. His golden hair was perfectly styled, and his blue eyes burned with determination and something that looked dangerously like hunger when they found hers across the foyer.
The mate bond surged the moment their gazes connected, sending heat spiraling through her body despite her efforts to remain composed. Lev’s nostrils flared slightly, and she knew he could scent her arousal even from across the room—another reminder of how little privacy the bond afforded them.
“Ready to make history?” Janice asked, her voice cutting through the tension with practiced ease.
Lev’s eyes never left Xelene’s as he answered. “More than ready.”
The interior of the royal vehicle felt like an emotional minefield as Xelene settled onto the plush leather seat beside Lev.
Every surface and every shadow reminded her of what had transpired here just days ago—the desperate hunger, the claiming, the irreversible marking that had bound their souls together.
She pressed her knees together and focused on the portfolio in her lap, grateful beyond measure that Janice and Benjamin occupied the seats across from them.
Thank God for chaperones.
The thought would have been laughable a week ago.
Xelene Warren, master of self-control, needing protection from her own desires.
But the mate bond pulsed between her and Lev like a demanding thing.
Every breath carried his intoxicating scent of cedar and something uniquely masculine that made her body respond in ways she couldn’t suppress.
“You look nervous,” Janice observed, her hazel eyes missing nothing despite her casual tone.
“I don’t get nervous.” Xelene’s automatic response came out sharper than intended. “I’m simply thinking about contingency plans.”
Benjamin’s warm chuckle filled the space. “If it helps, Lev’s been training like a man possessed under your guidance. I’ve never seen him more focused.”
Lev’s emotions bled into hers like they always do now—determination mixed with gratitude.
She risked a glance at him. Gone was any trace of the playboy prince.
This man radiated controlled power, his tactical clothing emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his frame, and those devastating blue eyes held a focus she’d never seen before.
I did that. I helped create this version of him.
The realization should have filled her with professional pride. Instead, it made her chest tight with something far more dangerous—a bone-deep satisfaction that whispered of partnership, of building something together that was greater than either of them alone.
“Xelene was quite the drill sergeant,” Lev said, his voice carrying that hint of roughness that made her pulse spike. “I’ve never trained harder in my life.”
“Or more thoroughly,” she managed, proud of how steady her voice sounded. “We covered everything documented in past Trials.”
What she didn’t mention was how each training session had ended with their tongues tangled together, her professional boundaries crumbling under the intensity of their connection.
Through their bond, she felt Lev’s desire spike immediately in response to her thoughts. His nostrils flared again, and she knew he could scent her desire despite her efforts to remain composed.
This is exactly why we need chaperones.
The royal vehicle slowed as they approached the ceremonial arena, and Xelene forced herself to focus on the massive structure rising before them.
Carved from gleaming white stone that caught Nova Aurora’s twin suns, the arena commanded respect with its soaring columns and intricate lion motifs.
Hundreds of pride members streamed through the entrances for the historic event.
“Ready for this?” Janice asked, echoing her words from the castle foyer.
Lev’s hand found Xelene’s, their fingers intertwining with practiced ease. The simple contact sent heat through her, and she had to bite back a gasp.
“Yes,” he replied, but his eyes never left Xelene’s face. “I have everything I need right here.”
Stop looking at me like that.
But even as the thought formed, Xelene found herself drowning in the depths of his gaze.
The mate bond sang, weaving them together with invisible threads that grew stronger by the moment.
Part of her wanted to pull away, to maintain the professional distance.
A larger part wanted to lean into him, to acknowledge what they both felt growing between them.