Chapter 128

My heart thudded relentlessly, my mind still piecing together the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded in the kitchen with Kenzo. I couldn’t blame him for the way he acted. To him, I was his mate, and I had unknowingly triggered something primal within him. What frightened me most, however, was my inability to push him away. In that moment, his eyes had been a blazing contradiction—raw and pure, filled with passion, desire, and lust. Just thinking about it made my body stir, a hunger for him gnawing at me. That hunger terrified me.

Running out of the kitchen was, without a doubt, one of the most immature and reckless decisions I’d ever made. I hated how I’d handled it, knowing the responsibility now lay on me to apologize and admit my feelings to Kenzo. But the thought of confessing was paralyzing, far more daunting than anything I’d ever faced.

Still, I couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by my love life. There were greater demons I needed to face—ones that had haunted me since childhood, and the worst of them all: Cassius Marwood. With a war on the horizon, I couldn’t let petty misunderstandings linger, especially not with Kenzo, the very Alpha who held the power to determine whether I’d even be part of this fight.

Leaning against my door, I heard the furious slam of Kenzo’s door down the hall. My stomach knotted, and I swallowed hard. I couldn’t let things spiral further. Drawing in a steadying breath, I opened my door and stepped cautiously into the corridor. With trembling resolve, I approached his door and knocked.

“What?” His voice boomed from the other side, sharp and angry.

“C-can I come in?” I asked hesitantly.

“Do what you want,” he growled.

With a nervous smile that barely reached my lips, I stepped inside. Kenzo sat on the edge of his bed, a simple raw wooden frame wrapped in grey sheets. His room was darker than mine, the same hardwood floors but lined with bookshelves overflowing with documents and journals. A massive wooden desk loomed opposite the bed, dominating the space. My eyes drifted back to Kenzo.

Though his gaze wasn’t ablaze, his anger was palpable, an oppressive weight in the room.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, struggling to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t have run away like that.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” He rose from the bed and closed the distance between us with deliberate steps.

The tension in his jaw betrayed his frustration, and his darkened eyes revealed the storm raging within. I instinctively stepped back as he advanced.

“Do you have any idea how it feels when you push me away?” His voice was low, almost a growl. “It’s like you’re rejecting me. The pain—” He placed a hand over his chest. “It’s unbearable.”

His narrowed eyes bore into mine, the weight of his guilt-tripping words hitting me like a blow. My heart twisted painfully, but something deep inside me—my rationality, my pride—pulled me back to steady ground.

“You can’t blame me for not feeling the mate bond the way you do, Kenzo,” I said, my voice firm but not unkind. “I’m trying to be honest with you. I’m struggling, lost in emotions I barely understand. I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore.”

“I’m your mate,” he said, his tone insistent as he took another step toward me. “I’m meant to be with you. To protect you. To love you.”

He leaned in, his forehead brushing the nape of my neck.

“Kenzo,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You know your words won’t make me feel what you want me to feel. My heart… it’s still tied to someone else. It’s going to take time—”

“Then let me show you.” His arms slid around my waist, pulling me flush against his solid, muscled frame. “Let me prove to you that you’re mine.”

His lips grazed the sensitive skin of my nape, sending shivers racing through me. My body betrayed me, a traitorous warmth pooling in my core as the intoxicating sensation spread. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but my resolve faltered under his touch.

“Kenzo, please…” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I promise I won’t run again. I’ll try… but you need to stop.”

He pulled back just enough to search my eyes. His intense gaze studied my face, the vulnerability in my expression. Finally, he nodded and released me from his embrace. Relief washed over me as I exhaled shakily.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, “but if I gave in now, I’d end up hating myself.”

Kenzo stepped back, leaning his hip against the edge of his desk. “If you promise not to run every time I touch you, I’ll give you time. We can take this slow.”

“Thank you.” I offered him a soft smile, hoping to diffuse the tension hanging thick in the air.

His lips curved into a faint smile of his own, the darkness in his expression easing slightly. Sensing the opportunity, I decided to shift the conversation.

“Um…” I began hesitantly. “When do you plan to attack the south?”

He straightened, his expression hardening slightly. “Preparations will be complete in two weeks. We’ll start by targeting the smaller villages to keep them from joining the Southern Moon Pack. After that, we’ll move toward Crimsonville.”

I inhaled deeply, steeling myself. “What if I said I want to join your warriors?”

Kenzo stared at me as though I’d spoken in a foreign tongue. His frown deepened, and his sharp eyes scanned my face, looking for some trace of doubt.

“What?”

“I’m serious, Kenzo. I want to be there when you enter my father’s territory.”

His head shook slowly, disbelief etched into his features. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that would be?” His tone was sharp, chastising, as if I were a reckless child.

“I’m well aware of that,” I replied, keeping my tone calm and steady.

Kenzo’s gaze swept over me, and he exhaled sharply, shaking his head in frustration. “I have to send everyone to fight. That means no one will be left to protect you! And there’s no way I’m putting you against an entire pack fighting in their wolf form. You barely managed to take down one!” he snapped, his voice taut with concern.

“The rules of duels are different from the chaos of war,” I countered, meeting his eyes with unwavering resolve. “I don’t have claws or fangs, but I can wield a weapon.”

He clicked his tongue, skepticism evident. “And what weapon would that be?”

Taking a deep breath, I steadied my voice, striving to sound rational. “I trained with Oberon—Idris and Caius combat techniques. I’m confident in close-range fighting, whether with a tanto or a wakizashi blade.”

Kenzo’s expression remained doubtful, his sharp eyes scanning me as if searching for any sign of hesitation. But I refused to let even a flicker of fear cross my face. Deep within, I believed I could do it. I had to do it. When my father fell, I needed to be there.

At last, a sly smirk curved Kenzo’s lips. “Fine. We’ll do it like this…” He sighed, leaning back. “I’ll get you a short, light sword, and tomorrow, you’ll train with me. If you can prove you’re capable, I’ll let you join.”

“Thank you!” I exclaimed, my voice bursting with relief and excitement as I threw my arms around him.

His expression softened into a teasing glint. “Careful. Approach me like that again, and you’ll regret it,” he purred, a mischievous edge in his tone.

I jumped back, my cheeks burning, and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry… and thank you!” I stammered, nodding a little too eagerly before retreating to my room, a foolish grin plastered on my face.

The realization that Kenzo was even considering letting me fight alongside him left me stunned. I hadn’t expected to sway him so easily. Now, all that remained was for me to hone the skills I once took pride in—my proficiency with swords and knives. But there was a problem.

I had only ever practiced with wooden or plastic blades. The thought of wielding a real weapon and cutting flesh sent a chill down my spine. The idea of taking a life terrified me far more than stepping onto a battlefield. But I couldn’t afford this fear. I had to overcome it—and fast.

When I returned to my room, the sun was still rising, painting the sky in hues of amber and gold. I took a deep breath to clear my head and reached for my phone, finding a new message from Varen.

Check your email, it read.

Curiosity surged as I grabbed my laptop and opened my inbox, eager to see what Varen had uncovered. He had managed to decode the remaining messages. Each one was photographed and accompanied by its decrypted meaning. My pulse quickened as I read through them, my heart thundering with each revelation.

Some messages mirrored the ones I had already deciphered—formal, respectful, and bearing the signature FD. But the majority were starkly different. They carried an informal, almost intimate tone, and the handwriting was jagged and aggressive. These were signed EH.

I frowned, my mind racing. Beta Eamon’s last name was Cobalt, so it didn’t make sense for him to be the author of these messages.

Varen had gone above and beyond, organizing the messages by content and events, piecing together a rough timeline. Toward the end of his email, a handful of notes were highlighted in red—marked as the most recent. Each was written by EH, and the tone of these messages set my nerves on edge. They didn’t read like the words of a loyal servant.

They were harsh, commanding, and directed at Selene, ordering her obedience.

When I reached the final note, my breath caught. My heart pounded so fiercely I could feel it in my ears. I turned my head away from the screen, convinced I must have misread it. Taking several deep breaths, I forced myself to look again.

The words didn’t change. They were as ominous as the first time I read them.

EH had written:

“Your King tries to trick you, but keep pretending you’re a fool. This game between you two will keep him distracted until I’m ready to act. Don’t you dare touch Thalassa. Remember, she belongs to me.”

I sat frozen, the weight of those words sinking into my chest like lead.