Chapter 13 #3
Selene’s posture shifts—it’s subtle, but I know her body language now. That’s anger coiling in her muscles.
“With respect, Your Majesty,” she says, her voice cutting clear and cold through the entire room, “why is my personal life being discussed before the entire Council?”
Several nobles gasp. You don’t speak to the King like that—not in open court, not with that edge in your voice.
But Lucian’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, there’s approval flickering in his eyes.
“Answer the question, Healer,” Draven cuts in smoothly, rising from his seat. His rings reflect the light as he gestures broadly. “The Council has a right to understand what’s happening here.”
Selene’s head snaps toward him, pure contempt in her eyes. “Why should I answer to the High Inquisitor about a personal matter?” Venom drips from every word. “Since when does my private life concern the Council?”
The sneer on her face makes my wolf rumble with satisfaction.
“Since Lord Zane made it public by bringing his grievance before us,” Draven replies, his smile widening. “Now, answer—”
“Selene.” Zane’s voice cuts through the tension, sounding soft and wounded. He rises from his seat, moving toward her with slow, careful steps. “Please, I just need to understand—”
“Stay where you are.” Selene’s hand shoots up, palm out, stopping him mid-stride.
He freezes, genuine surprise on his face. This isn’t going the way Zane planned; I can see it in the way his pulse quickens. Around the chamber, nobles lean forward with renewed interest.
“Has Commander Rowan been forcing you to his bed chambers?” Zane drops the question like a bomb, his words echoing off the vaulted ceiling. “Is he coercing you? Threatening you?”
Rage explodes through me, burning hot and violent. I’m about to shout at him, but Selene beats me to it.
“How dare you!” Her voice cuts like steel, fury blazing in her eyes.
She takes a step toward him, and he actually flinches.
“How dare you stand before the Council and spread lies about me. About my character. No, Commander Rowan has not been forcing me anywhere. How dare you even suggest such a thing!”
Zane takes a step back, shock written across his face. “I’m not—I’m only trying to—”
“You’ve been seen exiting his quarters!” Draven interrupts, triumph in his voice as he addresses Lucian next. “Multiple times. At all hours of the day and night. There are witnesses, Your Majesty. Despite her denials, the evidence is clear that something inappropriate—”
“So what?” Selene spins toward him, and I watch Draven’s expression falter. “So what if I’ve been seen leaving the Commander’s quarters? Since when is that a crime?”
“It’s improper for a woman with a fated mate to—”
“Since when has the High Inquisitor started focusing on impropriety in personal mating bonds?” Selene cuts him off, and the scorn in her tone makes several Council members shift uncomfortably.
“You must have a lot of time on your hands, High Inquisitor, to concern yourself with where I spend my time.” She takes a step toward him, and Draven sits back down.
“I am a free woman. I can do what I want, with whom I want. That is my right.”
The chamber goes silent. Several nobles exchange shocked glances. A woman—a healer, no less—is standing before the High Inquisitor and dressing him down like he’s a disobedient child.
Pride surges through me so fiercely, it nearly chokes me. That’s my mate.
Draven’s face flushes red, his composure cracking.
“There is clearly something wrong with this healer.” He turns to Lucian with scarcely concealed fury, and his voice rises, slicing through the stunned silence.
“Your Majesty, I formally request that my warlocks examine her for magical influences. No woman would willingly reject her fated mate unless she was being manipulated. This is unnatural.”
Ice shoots through my veins.
This is it. That’s Zane’s play. He couldn’t get Selene alone, couldn’t drug her again, so now he’s using the Council to force her into a situation where his allied warlocks can do whatever it is he originally planned.
I start to move forward, but Selene’s voice cracks like a whip.
“Enough!”
Every head turns toward her again. She’s trembling—not with fear, but with anger. Her blue eyes blaze as she addresses Lucian directly, ignoring Draven completely.
“Lord Radrick claims to be my fated mate,” she says, each word ringing clear. “And that part is true. I felt the bond when I first rescued him in the forest.”
My wolf howls in denial. But I force myself to stay silent. Trust her.
“But I don’t want to be with him.” The words are final, absolute.
“He gave me a bottle of wine as a gift. When I was about to drink it, I realized something was wrong with it. The scent was off. I had it examined by the palace healers.” She pauses, letting that sink in.
“The wine was drugged. Laced with a substance that could have harmed my wolf. Suppressed her. Made her vulnerable.”
Gasps echo through the chamber. Zane’s face goes white, then red.
“The mate bond felt wrong after that,” Selene continues, her voice steady despite the rage I can feel coursing through her.
“Twisted somehow. And when I tried to pull away from him, when I tried to distance myself, he became increasingly insistent. Demanding more of my time. More access to my life.”
Around the chamber, nobles burst into furious whispers: “drugged,” “tried to stifle her wolf,” “what was he planning?”
“I am focused on my career as a royal healer,” Selene says, her chin lifted high. “I have no interest in politics. No interest in being tied to a Council member whose loyalties are constantly questioned. I don’t want Lord Zane. I don’t want his attention. I don’t want any of this.”
The public rejection echoes through the chamber like thunder. She is magnificent—destroying him in front of everyone, burning his lies to ash with nothing but the truth.
But Zane isn’t done.
“The wine was a gift,” he says quickly, desperation replacing shock.
“From a well-wisher. I had no idea it was contaminated, Selene. Please, you have to believe me.” He takes a step closer, hands spread in supplication.
“Someone must have tampered with it before it reached you. I would never—” His voice cracks perfectly.
“I love you. You’re my fated mate. We’re meant to be together.
You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just be with me.”
He’s good. Even now, even after she has exposed him, he’s spinning it. Making himself the victim.
“I do not want to be with you.” Selene’s voice doesn’t waver. “I don’t love you. I don’t even like you.”
“This is highly suspicious,” Draven says, his voice sharp now.
“Your Majesty, what wolf doesn’t want her fated mate?
It’s unnatural. Against every law of our kind.
” He gestures toward Selene. “She’s clearly under some influence.
I must insist my warlocks examine her immediately. For her own protection.”
My wolf snarls, demanding I move. Demanding I protect her.
“Enough!” Lucian’s roar silences every whisper instantly. He rises from his throne, and the temperature drops several degrees. “The woman has spoken. This matter is finished.”
“Your Majesty, with respect—” Draven starts, but then his expression turns desperate. He’s losing control of the situation, and he knows it. “It has to be the Commander. He must be forcing her. Using his position, his authority—”
“Yes,” Zane cuts in, seizing the lifeline. “That must be it. He’s manipulating her, threatening her career, her position—”
“Stop!” Selene’s voice cracks through the chamber like thunder.
The entire assembly goes silent. Even Draven’s mouth snaps shut.
Selene’s blue eyes are blazing with something feral. “I am the one who has been pursuing Commander Rowan,” she says, her words penetrating every corner of the room. “For the past seven months. Not the other way around.”
My heart stops. What is she—
“I liked Lord Zane initially,” she continues, and through our bond, I can feel the calculated precision in her words. She’s destroying any narrative they can spin. “But Commander Rowan understands me better.” She pauses, then drops the final bomb. “He understands my appetites. In bed.”
The chamber erupts. Nobles gasping, councilors shouting, Draven’s face turning purple. Through it all, I stand frozen, my mind reeling.
She just…in front of the entire Council…she—
My wolf howls with possessive satisfaction even as my human mind struggles to process what has happened. She has claimed me. Publicly. Explicitly. In the most scandalous way possible.
And she’s not done.
“So, you can take your concerns about manipulation,” Selene says, her voice rising above the chaos, “and your suspicions about magical influence, and you can shove them—”
“Healer Selene.” Lucian’s authority rings out, but there’s amusement in his tone despite the gravity of the situation. “What would you like to do?”
Selene doesn’t hesitate. “I reject Lord Zane Radrick as my fated mate.” The conviction in her voice is complete. “I want nothing to do with him. And I want the Council to stop interfering in my personal life.”
“So be it,” Lucian says, his words brooking no argument. “This matter is closed.”
The chamber erupts again, but this time it’s different. The whispers aren’t about manipulation or magical influence. They’re about scandal. About the healer who publicly declared her sexual preference for the Commander. About the most salacious piece of gossip the court has heard in years.
Zane’s face has gone from red to ashen. His jaw works silently, hands trembling at his sides as the careful mask of the devoted lover shatters completely. What’s left behind is cold and predatory rage, stripped of pretense. When his eyes meet mine across the room, the hatred there is palpable.
Through our bond, I feel Selene’s exhaustion crashing over her now that the adrenaline is fading. She’s trembling, trying to hold herself together as Lucian dismisses the Council.
I need to get to her. Need to hold her and figure out what the hell she was thinking.
But as the chamber begins to empty, as nobles file out in clusters of furious, scandalized whispers, I catch Zane’s gaze one final time.
The look he gives me promises retribution.
Whatever comes next, it won’t be pretty.