Chapter 14 #2
“You’ve been having nightmares,” he murmurs after a few seconds. “Every night this week.”
“I’m fine—” I try to pull back, but his grip tightens.
“You’re not.” His eyes burn into mine. “But you are stubborn as hell. So, instead of arguing about it, I’m going to distract you.”
Before I can respond, he lifts me from the chair. I wrap my legs around his waist, gasping when he presses me against the wall.
“The delegation arrives in three days,” he says, his voice rough with want. “You can ask all your questions then.”
His hands slide under my shirt, palms hot against my skin. Every touch ignites something in me, chasing away thoughts of nightmares and politics.
“Right now,” he continues, his mouth trailing fire down my throat, “you’re mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember that.”
I arch into him, surrendering to the heat between us. Let him chase away the shadows with his touch, his kiss, the undeniable pull of the mate bond.
I like this simplicity of us. No one else, no worries, no concerns.
A week crawls by, marked by nightmares and Seth’s increasingly creative ways to distract me from them. His hands have learned every curve of my body, every sound I make when he touches me just right. The mate bond thrums between us constantly now, a living thing that demands attention.
But today isn’t about us. Today, the Snow Mountain delegation arrives. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to glean any more information about the ancient magic that this pack apparently has the ability to practice.
Astra is seated next to Lucian in the throne room. I stand beside her, with Daciana at my other side. The massive doors swing open, and my breath catches.
They’re enormous. Every single one of them. Men built like mountains—broad shoulders, thick arms, bodies that look carved from stone. Their clothing is practical, layered against cold that doesn’t exist in our temperate capital. Furs and leather, dark colors that blend with shadows.
“Holy shit,” Daciana breathes beside me.
I elbow her sharply. “Behave.”
“I’m behaving. I’m just…observing.”
The alpha enters last. He’s older—maybe forty, maybe more—but age hasn’t diminished him.
If anything, it has refined him into something more dangerous.
Silver threads through his dark hair. Lines bracket his mouth and eyes.
But those eyes are sharp, calculating, missing nothing as they sweep the throne room.
When his gaze lands on me, my wolf stirs uneasily.
“Alpha Kieran,” Lucian greets the man from his throne. “Welcome to the capital.”
“Your Majesty.” Kieran’s voice is deep, rumbling like distant thunder. He bows—respectful but not subservient. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“We are honored by your presence.” Astra’s smile is warm and genuine. “The Snow Mountain Pack is legendary. We have heard much about your dedication to the old ways.”
There’s an almost imperceptible twitch in Kieran’s expression. “The old ways sustain us. We don’t apologize for that.”
“Nor should you.” Lucian leans forward slightly. “Your adherence to tradition is admirable.”
I try to focus on the diplomatic exchange, but Kieran’s gaze keeps returning to me. Not in a sexual way, though. In a way that makes my skin prickle with warning.
Beside me, Daciana shifts her weight. I glance over and catch her staring at Kieran with undisguised interest. Her cheeks flush when she realizes I’ve noticed.
I nudge her in the ribs. “Stop.”
“I’m not doing anything,” she whispers back.
“You’re drooling.”
“I am not—”
“Ladies.” Astra’s quiet reprimand cuts through our whispered argument. Heat floods my face as I straighten, trying to look professional.
The meeting continues. Kieran introduces his delegation—all men, I notice. No women. The Snow Mountain Pack’s structure must be different from ours. They discuss trade agreements, magical practices, the delicate balance between tradition and progress.
But through it all, Kieran’s attention drifts back to me. His expression never changes—calm, controlled, almost emotionless. But those eyes bore into my soul.
By the time Lucian dismisses the delegation, allowing them to explore the palace grounds, tension is coiled tight in my shoulders.
“That alpha is intense,” Daciana mutters as we follow Astra from the throne room.
“You certainly seemed interested in him,” I tease, grateful for the chance to focus on something normal.
She punches my arm lightly. “Shut up. He’s…compelling.”
“He’s old enough to be your father.”
“Some men age like fine wine.” She grins wickedly. “And I happen to love fine wine.”
I laugh. Leave it to Daciana to turn a diplomatic visit into an opportunity for flirtation.
The next few days pass uneventfully. The members of the Snow Mountain delegation keep mostly to themselves, though I catch glimpses of them in the gardens or training grounds. Seth is busy coordinating security, leaving me with more time to help Astra in her lab.
But the way Kieran looks at me continues to unsettle me. He watches. Studies. Like he’s solving a puzzle only he can see.
“You’re paranoid,” Daciana says when I mention it.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m seeing threats where none exist.
I’m returning to Seth’s quarters late one afternoon, medical supplies tucked under my arm, when I hear footsteps behind me.
“Healer Selene.”
I freeze. That voice—deep, measured, instantly recognizable.
I turn slowly. Kieran stands a few paces away, hands clasped behind his back. He’s alone. No guards, no men from his delegation. Just him and me in an empty corridor.
“Alpha Kieran.” I force my voice to be steady. “Are you lost? The guest wing is—”
“I’m not lost.” He takes a step closer. Not threateningly, exactly, but calculatingly. “I need to speak with you.”
My wolf presses against my consciousness, uncertain. “About what?”
His eyes fix on my throat. Not on the mate mark Seth left—that’s hidden beneath my collar. Something else. Something I can’t see but he apparently can.
“You bear the mark of the Ulvan.”
The word means nothing to me. I shake my head, confused. “I don’t know what that is.”
“The undead.” His expression doesn’t change, but there’s darkness in his gaze. “Necromancy.”
Cold washes through me. “I—what?”
“The dead have touched you.” He says it matter-of-factly, as if he’s commenting on the weather. “Recently, I’d say. Within the last few months.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
Kieran studies me with those too-knowing eyes. “You will. But until then, remember this: you are no longer alone, Selene. Something walks with you. Something that shouldn’t exist in this world.”
Terror claws up my throat as I stare at him.
“Don’t trust anyone.” His voice drops lower. “Especially not yourself.”
My hands start to shake, and the medical supplies slip from my grasp, clattering to the floor. “I–I have to go.”
I quickly gather the scattered supplies, then without another word, I turn on my heel and hurry away from him, his words ringing in my ears.
“The dead have touched you.”
“Don’t trust anyone. Especially not yourself.”
What is he talking about? What does he want?
Before my brain catches up, I’m suddenly running, flying down corridors toward Seth’s quarters. I whip open the door and slam it shut behind me, my heart pounding from a fear I can’t understand.
What did he mean? Why did he say that to me? What does he know that I don’t?
Leaning back against the wooden door, I slump to the ground, terrified.
I don’t tell Seth about my encounter with Kieran. Every time I open my mouth to say something, the words stick in my throat. “The dead have touched you. Don’t trust anyone. Especially not yourself.” What am I supposed to do with that? How do I explain something I don’t understand?
So, I keep it buried. Let it fester.
The nightmares get worse.
I wake gasping, Seth’s arms already around me before I’m fully conscious. His voice is in my ear, low and soothing, but I can barely hear it over the pounding of my heart.
“Another one?” he murmurs against my hair.
I nod, not trusting my voice. The red mist still lingers behind my eyelids. Kieran’s words echo in my skull.
Seth’s hand slides up my spine, grounding me. “These aren’t merely nightmares anymore, Selene. Something’s wrong.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” His fingers find the knot of tension at the base of my neck and start working it loose. “You haven’t slept through the night in weeks.”
“I said, I’m fine.” My insistence comes out sharper than I mean it to.
He pulls back slightly, studying my face in the dim light. Those green eyes of his see too much. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Everything! “Nothing. Just bad dreams.”
“Selene—”
“Please.” I press my palm against his chest and feel his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my hand. “Can we not do this right now?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he pulls me closer, tucking my head beneath his chin. “There’s a festival in the capital tomorrow. Come with me.”
I blink against his throat. “A festival?”
“Music, food, dancing. Normal things.” His hand resumes its path up and down my spine. “Things that don’t involve councils or politics or—”
“Nightmares,” I interject quietly.
“Yeah.” His lips brush my temple. “Let me take you somewhere you can just…exist. Without all this weight on your shoulders.”
The offer pulls at something in my chest. When was the last time I did something normal? When was the last time I wasn’t looking over my shoulder, waiting for the next crisis?
“Okay,” I whisper.
His arms tighten around me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I tilt my head back, finding his eyes in the semi-darkness. “Take me to the festival.”
The smile that curves his mouth is soft, genuine. He kisses me slowly, thoroughly, until the remnants of my nightmare fade and all I can feel is him.
“Try to sleep,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’ll keep the bad dreams away.”
I want to believe him. Want to sink into his warmth and let him chase away the shadows.
But Kieran’s words won’t stop echoing in my head.