Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Seth
I lie in the darkness, Selene’s warm body draped across mine like she was made to fit there. Her head rests on my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, one leg thrown over mine in complete possession. In sleep, she clings to me.
The irony makes me grin despite my exhaustion.
For a woman who spent weeks claiming she didn’t want me, she sure as hell holds on tight when she’s unconscious. Her fingers are curled into my side, her breath soft and even against my skin. Her body is molded to mine as if she’s afraid I’ll evaporate if she loosens her grip even slightly.
I stroke her hair, the auburn strands silky between my fingers, and let my gaze drift over her bare back. Marks litter her skin—bite marks, scratches, bruises from my grip. Evidence of hours spent claiming her, reminding her that she’s mine.
My wolf rumbles with satisfaction, but it’s more than just the bond driving this contentment. It’s her.
I’ve had plenty of women over the years; I won’t pretend otherwise.
But none of them drove me this insane. None of them matched me the way Selene does, her willing submission meeting my dominance until we’re both wrecked and gasping.
The mating bond amplifies everything, yes, but it’s more than that.
It’s the sounds she makes, the way her body responds, how she fights me and surrenders to me in the same breath.
She’s perfect.
My grin fades as reality creeps back in.
We should be sharing living quarters now.
Traditionally, mates move in together immediately after marking each other.
But with the whole Zane situation, I haven’t pushed it.
Can’t risk tipping him off that anything has changed.
And if I’m honest with myself, I haven’t even brought it up because I know Selene doesn’t want to.
Not yet. Maybe not ever, if the way she’s been avoiding me is any indication.
Her body may surrender to me, may crave my touch, but her heart?
That’s still locked behind walls I don’t know how to breach.
Still, the thought of leaving her here alone, of not being able to be here for her when she needs me, makes my wolf pace restlessly at the edges of my mind.
The distance between us sets my teeth on edge.
When she goes to work and I can’t follow, when she’s in her room and I’m not here, the separation gnaws at me until I can barely focus on anything else.
My wolf whines constantly, a low, anxious sound that never quite stops.
I glance out the window. The moon hangs high; it’s nearly midnight. I need to get back to my duties. The night patrol won’t run itself, and I’ve already shirked my responsibilities for too long.
But leaving her feels wrong.
She makes a small sound in her sleep, burrowing closer, and my chest tightens. How did I ever think I could push this away? How did I convince myself she wasn’t worth keeping?
Carefully, reluctantly, I start to extract myself from her grip. She whimpers, her arms tightening, and I have to bite back a groan. In her sleep, she’s trying to keep me here.
“I’ll be back,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Promise.”
Her hold loosens slightly, enough for me to slip free without waking her. I ease off the bed, watching as she immediately curls around my pillow, her face buried in it, seeking my scent.
Gods, she’s going to be the death of me.
I retrieve my discarded clothes and pad toward the bathroom, already mentally running through what needs to be done tonight. The western patrol route needs checking, and I want to personally inspect—
I freeze.
Dried mud. In the corner of the bathroom, near the basin.
My brow furrows as I move closer, crouching to examine it. Not just mud—footprints. Bare feet, small and distinctly feminine, tracked mud across these pristine tiles before someone—probably whoever made them—cleaned up.
But they missed this corner.
I stand, scanning the bathroom more carefully. There—shoes. Women’s shoes, caked in mud, discarded carelessly in the corner behind the door. Hidden, but not well enough.
Selene’s shoes.
My wolf stirs uneasily. Selene is meticulous about cleanliness. Her quarters are always neat and organized. She would never leave muddy shoes lying around, would never track dirt through her bathroom without wiping it up immediately.
Still confused, I’ve just tucked my shirt into my pants when I hear the soft creak of a door opening.
My head snaps toward the sound, heart suddenly hammering. I hurry out of the bathroom, slipping my shoes on as I go.
The bed is empty. The sheets are tangled where she was sleeping moments ago, still holding the impression of her body. But Selene herself? Gone.
The door to her quarters stands wide open, swinging gently on its hinges.
“Selene?” I call out quietly, already moving toward the doorway.
No response.
I step into the corridor and check both directions. Nothing at first—just an empty stone hallway and flickering torchlight. Then, I catch movement to my left.
There! A flash of pale skin disappearing around the corner at the far end.
My blood runs cold.
I break into a run, my wolf surging beneath my skin with alarm. When I round the corner, I spot her.
She’s twenty feet ahead, completely naked, moving with that same sluggish, mechanical gait I’ve seen before. Her arms hang loose at her sides, her bare feet making no sound on the stone floor. Her head tilts forward slightly, auburn hair falling around her shoulders.
“Selene!” I call out, closing the distance.
She doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even pause.
I get in front of her quickly, turning to face her, and my stomach drops.
Her eyes are open but completely unfocused, glazed over, staring straight ahead at something only she can see. Her face is slack, empty, like all the life has been drained out of her.
It’s the same look she had that night in the forest. When I found her walking toward the lake, her feet bloody and torn.
The memory explodes in my mind with brutal clarity. The way she moved then—mechanically, unaware, completely unreachable. How she didn’t respond to my voice, didn’t even seem to know I was there.
Horror crawls up my spine, ice-cold and viscous.
The dirty shoes in her bathroom. The muddy footprints.
That night I found her at the lake wasn’t an isolated episode, a one-time incident. It has happened again. And again. Enough times for her to track mud through her bathroom on her bare feet, to come back with those shoes so thoroughly caked with dirt.
How many nights has she wandered outside like this while I had no idea? How many times has she walked through the forest in this trance, vulnerable and alone?
But wait—both Daciana and that healer told me Selene has been working nights at the infirmary. She changed her schedule specifically to avoid me, taking the late shifts that run from sunset till dawn.
So, when is this happening? During the day when she should be sleeping? And if so, how has no one noticed?
My mind races through possibilities, none of them good. Whatever this is, whatever’s causing it, it has probably been going on for weeks without anyone knowing. Without me knowing.
The thought makes my wolf howl with distress. She could have been hurt. She could have walked into the lake and drowned. She could have been attacked, taken, killed—and I would never have known until it was too late.
My hands shake as I pull off my shirt and place it quickly over her head, working her arms through the sleeves. She doesn’t react to my touch, doesn’t acknowledge my presence at all. Just stands there, swaying slightly, waiting.
“Selene, wake up.” I grip her shoulders, trying to get her attention. “Come on, little wolf.”
Nothing. Her vacant stare remains fixed somewhere beyond me, seeing something I can’t.
I’m about to physically carry her back to bed when I hesitate.
I need to understand what’s causing this. Where she’s going. What’s controlling her. What the hell has been happening to my mate while I’ve been blind to all of it.
There’s only one way to find out. Instead of waking her, instead of carrying her back to safety, I make a decision.
I’m going to follow her.
I step aside, letting her continue forward. She moves past me at once, resuming that same steady, unnatural walk.
I shadow her through the corridors, my senses on high alert. She moves with unsettling certainty, as if she has walked this route countless times. When a servant nearly bumps into us, I block him with a sharp gesture and a look that sends him scurrying away.
Selene doesn’t pause. Doesn’t hesitate.
She pushes through the side entrance that leads to the gardens, stepping out into the moonlit night. The cool air doesn’t make her shiver; the stones under her bare feet don’t slow her down.
She’s heading toward the forest. The same route as before.
My wolf snarls, every protective instinct screaming at me to stop this, to grab her and bring her back to her bed. But I force myself to stay calm, to observe and not interfere.
She slips between the trees, and I follow her into the darkness. My senses sharpen, every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves setting my teeth on edge. I’m ready for an ambush, ready for whatever’s waiting.
But nothing comes.
Selene just keeps walking, deeper and deeper into the forest, following some invisible path only she can see. Her movements never waver, never hesitate.
She knows exactly where she’s going. And that terrifies me more than anything else.
She reaches the clearing where she found Zane. I’m not surprised; she came here that other time, as well. The same trees, the same disturbed earth where his blood once stained the ground. My wolf bristles with unease as Selene continues forward without pausing, heading straight for the lake beyond.