Cyrus strode through the shadowed hallways of the palace, his mind preoccupied with the weight of his duties as king. The day had been long, filled with meetings and decisions that demanded his attention. Even now, as the evening settled and the palace grew quiet, there were still matters to attend to. The kingdom of Selene did not rest, and neither could he.
He left the library hours ago, leaving Nila immersed in her books. There had been a tension between them, a subtle but growing unease that he hadn't been able to ignore. He had brushed it off, believing it to be the strain of their circumstances, but as the day wore on, it gnawed at him.
As he left the main palace and was returning to his other mansion, his thoughts drifted to her. She would understand, he had reasoned, once she knew the full story. Once she knew that he wasn't the monster she had believed him to be.
But doubt was creeping in.
As he stepped outside into the cool evening air, the moon hanging low in the sky, he felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to let go of his human form, if only for a while. The palace, with all its burdens, was stifling tonight. His wolf called to him, a primal need to run, to feel the earth beneath his paws and the wind in his fur. He glanced around for a moment and then shifted.
The transformation was swift and familiar, bones reshaping as fur replaced skin. His senses sharpened, the coolness of the night air more pronounced, the scents of the forest and the palace grounds more vivid. As he padded forward on all fours, he felt the tension in his body ease. His wolf form had always been a refuge for him, a place where the complexities of his mind quieted, and instinct took over.
He began to run.
The trees blurred as he surged through the forest surrounding the palace, his brown fur rippling in the wind. His wolf was powerful, sleek, and fast. There was no room for hesitation or second-guessing in this form, only action, only the thrill of the chase, even when there was no prey.
But then, something familiar hit him...
Her scent.
Cyrus halted, his body tensing as he sniffed the air. Nila. She was close, too close. His wolf's heightened senses picked up the faintest trace of her, a mix of fear and urgency in her scent. She was running.
Why?
A growl rumbled in his throat as his wolf form reacted, emotions raw and uncontrollable. His rational mind would have paused to think, to understand, but the wolf didn't care. It sensed one thing: She was trying to leave. His wolf's anger surged. She was fleeing from him, abandoning him. And that was something the beast could not allow.
With a fierce snarl, Cyrus bolted in the direction of her scent, his powerful legs carrying him through the forest with terrifying speed. He didn't think, he simply acted. The trees blurred past him as he tracked her down, the sound of her footsteps ahead of him, frantic and desperate.
His wolf howled in fury. She was running from him, rejecting him.
He wouldn't let her go. He couldn't.
The palace came into view, and there she was, Nila, just a few steps ahead, her breath ragged, her legs straining as she pushed herself to the limit. His eyes locked on her, wild and burning with a mixture of rage and something else, something darker, possessiveness. She belonged to him, and his wolf wouldn't let her forget that.
As she reached the steps of the palace, Cyrus lunged. His jaws snapped at the air just behind her, but she managed to throw herself inside, slamming the heavy doors shut in his face.
For a moment, he stood there, his massive body panting, his mind a chaotic storm. The beast in him raged, wanting to break through the door, to confront her, but something held him back. A flicker of rationality. A flicker of the man still buried beneath the fur and claws.
He couldn't approach her like this.
With a low growl, he turned and shifted, his body twisting back into his human form. His breath came heavy as his feet touched the cool stone of the palace grounds. Sweat dripped from his bare skin, his chest heaving with the remnants of the chase. He needed to see her, to explain, to fix whatever had just shattered between them.
Taking another route into the palace, he made his way back to the grand hall, where she had fled. His heart pounded in his chest, not from the run, but from the fear of what he would find. Had she figured it out? The truth? The lies?
When he entered the hall, the sight that greeted him stopped him cold.
Nila was crouched on the floor, her back pressed against the door she had just slammed shut. Her body trembled, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes wild and filled with a mixture of fear, pain, and something else that cut him deeper than any blade ever could—betrayal.
Her gaze snapped to him, and the moment their eyes met, her expression shifted. Hatred.
"You," she spat, her voice a trembling mix of anguish and fury. "How could you? How could you do this to me?"
Cyrus froze, his body aching with the weight of her words. The betrayal in her eyes stabbed at him, each word like a dagger twisting in his chest. His voice came out hoarse, filled with desperation he didn't know he had. "Nila, let me explain—"
"Explain?" she cut him off, her voice rising as she stood, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You lied to me! You pretended to be someone else, someone I—" Her voice broke, and she turned away from him, pressing the palm of her hands into her eyes as if trying to stop the flood of emotions.
"I didn't pretend," he said softly, stepping closer, though the weight of her anger held him at a distance. "I am still Sol. I am still—"
"No!" she screamed, spinning back to face him, her eyes blazing. "You're not Sol. You're Cyrus! The same Cyrus I was supposed to marry, the same king I was running from!"
Her words hung in the air between them, raw and bleeding.
Cyrus's chest tightened, his throat constricting as he took a deep breath. "I didn't mean for it to be like this," he said quietly, his voice filled with the pain of his own mistakes. "I was going to tell you, but I needed time, time for you to see who I really am. To see that I'm not the monster you think I am."
Nila's laugh was cold, hollow. "Not a monster? You let me believe you were someone else. You let me trust you. I—" Her voice caught in her throat, her tears threatening to spill over again. "I cared about you, Cyrus. I thought I knew you."