The Awakening
Selene awoke to silence.
For a moment, she forgot where she was. The bed beneath her was too soft. The sheets smelled of lavender and cedarwood. And the room was warm, unlike the cold stone floors she had grown used to in the Silver Moon Pack.
Then it hit her.
Obsidian Keep.
The Blood King.
Her forced marriage.
Selene sat up abruptly, heart hammering. She half expected guards at her door, but when she scanned the room, there was no one.
The air felt… strange.
A shiver ran down her spine.
She could feel it again—the mate bond.
Stronger than before.
It tugged at her chest, whispering in a language she didn't understand. Her wolf was still weak, but it stirred. Restless.
Selene clenched her jaw and shoved the feeling aside.
She wouldn't lose herself to this.
Not to Kieran.
Not to a fate she never asked for.
---
A Royal Summons
A knock at the door startled her.
Before she could respond, it creaked open, revealing a tall woman with sharp features and dark, braided hair. She wore a fitted black uniform adorned with silver embroidery—a warrior, by the looks of her.
"My Lady," the woman said smoothly. "The King requests your presence at breakfast."
Selene blinked. "Breakfast?"
The warrior's lips quirked in amusement. "He prefers his queens conscious when addressing them."
Selene scowled.
The woman stepped back, gesturing for her to follow. "Unless you'd rather disobey a direct summons?"
Selene knew a challenge when she heard one.
With a deep breath, she lifted her chin and strode past the woman, determined not to show a single crack in her defiance.
If Kieran thought she would cower before him, he would be disappointed.
---
The King's Table
Selene expected a grand dining hall.
Instead, she found herself in an intimate chamber with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the kingdom below. Dark clouds hung in the sky, casting a silver glow over the distant forests.
And there—at the head of the table—sat Kieran.
His presence filled the room before he even looked at her.
Golden eyes flickered to hers as he gestured lazily to the seat across from him. "Sit."
Selene hesitated.
She wanted to refuse just to prove she could.
But then her stomach growled. Loudly.
Kieran smirked.
Heat burned in her cheeks as she stalked forward and took her seat, pointedly ignoring him.
The table was lined with rich meats, fruits, and freshly baked bread. It smelled delicious.
Still, Selene didn't move.
"Afraid it's poisoned?" Kieran mused.
She met his gaze, unwavering. "It would be a convenient way to get rid of me."
Kieran chuckled. "If I wanted you dead, little wolf, you'd already be in the ground."
A shiver ran down her spine.
He wasn't boasting. He was stating a fact.
"Eat," he said simply.
Selene clenched her fists beneath the table.
She hated this. Hated the control he held. The way he made commands sound like invitations when they were anything but.
But starvation wouldn't give her an advantage.
So, she ate.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Kieran broke the silence.
"I assume you're wondering why I brought you here."
Selene swallowed a bite of bread and lifted a brow. "Aside from making me your prisoner?"
Kieran smirked. "You're not a prisoner."
"Then I'm free to leave?"
His smirk deepened. "No."
Selene scoffed. "Then I fail to see the difference."
Kieran leaned forward, golden eyes glowing. "The difference, little wolf, is that I didn't choose a weak, obedient bride. I chose you."
Selene stilled.
Her heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. "Why?"
His expression darkened—not with anger, but something else.
Something unreadable.
"You intrigue me," he admitted. "You don't fear me the way others do. That is… interesting."
Selene's pulse quickened.
She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
Kieran studied her for a long moment. Then, as if coming to a decision, he spoke again.
"I have a proposition for you."
Selene tensed. "What kind of proposition?"
Kieran leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable.
"You will be my queen," he said smoothly. "And in return, I will grant you something no other mate has ever received from me."
Selene narrowed her eyes. "And that is?"
Kieran's golden gaze burned into hers.
"Power."
Silence stretched between them.
Selene barely breathed.
"I don't want power," she said at last.
Kieran tilted his head. "Lies don't suit you."
She scowled. "I don't want your power."
"Good," Kieran said. "Because that's not what I'm offering."
Selene frowned. "Then what—?"
"You are not just any werewolf, Selene," he interrupted. "You are royal blood. The daughter of a stolen throne. Do you really think you were born just to be used by your former pack?"
Her breath hitched.
Kieran's gaze turned sharp, knowing.
"You have spent your life being treated as lesser," he continued. "Here, you could be so much more. If you stay by my side, I will ensure that no one—**no pack, no kingdom—**will ever dare look down on you again."
Selene's fingers curled around the table's edge.
Temptation slithered through her veins, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.
Power.
Freedom.
A chance to carve her own fate instead of being a pawn in someone else's game.
But at what cost?
Kieran watched her in silence. Then he pushed back his chair and stood.
"You don't have to answer now," he murmured. "But think carefully, Selene."
He turned toward the door.
"You were stolen from your true place in this world," he added, his voice lower now. "Don't waste the second chance fate has given you."
And then—**just like that—**he was gone.
Selene sat there, staring at the empty space he left behind.
Her mind screamed at her to reject him.
But somewhere deep inside—her wolf stirred.
Interested.
---
End of Chapter Five