When Selene Rivers woke, bright light streamed through the cracks in the shutters. Her head pounded with the ache of too much mead. Damien’s cloak lay draped across her shoulders, her garments folded neatly by the hearth. The memory of the night before. sent heat rushing to her cheeks, and she pressed her palms to her face.
The furs beside her were cold. He was gone. A fragile hope whispered that he would return quickly, but hours slipped by in silence.
The den–matron entered, bustling with cheer. “Lady, the Alpha–heir commanded your favorite dishes prepared, and a broth for your head.”
“Where is Damien?” Selene asked, her voice stripped of calm.
“He left before dawn, on urgent business,” the matron answered. “He said it would be three days.”
Selene’s chest tightened. The woman pressed a bouquet into her hands–red roses, the same kind Adrian once brought after quarrels. Selene set them aside without a word and ate mechanically, each petal a small betrayal.
While she waited in vain, Damien sat across from Melissa Sinclair in a shadowed council chamber. Three guards stood like silent wolves at her back. She swirled a goblet of crimson mead, her smile sharp.
“Melissa Sinclair,” Damien said coldly. “How did you learn of the pups‘ blood–curse?” Melissa pressed a hand to her chest in false shock, eyes glinting. “I may not dote on children, but once I stand as their stepmother, I thought it wise to know.” Her amusement was cruel.
“If you think you can replace Selene,” Damien growled, “you delude yourself. I’ll forget this meeting if you end it now.”
Melissa’s laughter rang hollow. “Do you think me like Cassandra–a mistress weeping for scraps? I am your betrothed by elder decree. Selene is nothing but a plaything, a whore draped in borrowed dignity.”
Damien’s patience shattered. His hand closed around her throat. The guards stirred, but Melissa stilled them with a flick of her fingers. Damien released her at last, leaving her gasping.
“Stop!” she hissed, snatching up a parchment sealed with blood–wax. With a flick, she summoned flame from a rune–stone, holding it dangerously near the contract. “Defy me, and the healer who alone may save your pups will vanish. I will watch Selene’s face when she buries them both.”
Her words cut like fangs, cold and merciless.
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Melissa pressed a hand to her chest in false shock, eyes glinting. “I may not dote on children, but once I stand as their stepmother, I thought it wise to know.” Her
amusement was cruel.
“If you think you can replace Selene,” Damien growled, “you delude yourself. I’ll forget. this meeting if you end it now.”
Melissa’s laughter rang hollow. “Do you think me like Cassandra–a mistress weeping for scraps? I am your betrothed by elder decree. Selene is nothing but a plaything, a whore draped in borrowed dignity.”
Damien’s patience shattered. His hand closed around her throat. The guards stirred, but Melissa stilled them with a flick of her fingers. Damien released her at last, leaving her gasping.
“Stop!” she hissed, snatching up a parchment sealed with blood–wax. With a flick, she summoned flame from a rune–stone, holding it dangerously near the contract. “Defy me, and the healer who alone may save your pups will vanish. I will watch Selene’s face when she buries them both.”
Her words cut like fangs, cold and merciless.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.