Chapter 11 THE KING WHO CAN’T REMEMBER.
Venessa’s POV.
It had been seven days since the Void.
Seven days since the man I loved looked me in the eye and forgot I was his soul.
I sat at the vanity in my new suite in the East Wing.
It was a beautiful room and a view of the mountains that would make anyone else gasp. To me, it felt like a high-end coffin.
I picked up a silver hairbrush and stared at my reflection.
My skin was back to its normal, pale cream color.
The grey veins were gone. The glow was gone.
I looked exactly like the girl who used to strip thorns off roses in my father’s house.
Except for my eyes.
They looked tired.
They looked like they had seen the end of the world and realized it was quieter than expected.
I reached inside my chest, a habit I couldn't break.
I went to the spot where the mate bond used to live.
Nothing.
It was like reaching for a light switch in a dark room and finding out the wires had been ripped from the wall.
Dante had snapped the bond to save my life, but in doing so, he had hollowed me out.
I was a Queen with no King. A wolf with no mate.
I was just Venessa again. The girl who wasn’t supposed to be here.
I walked down to breakfast, my heels clicking against the floor.
Every time I passed a guard, they bowed.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," they would say, their voices thick with respect.
It was a lie.
They didn't see me.
They didn't see the girl who was drowning in the middle of a crowded hallway.
I entered the dining hall. The long table was set for one.
"Where is the King?" I asked the maid as she poured my tea. My voice sounded so small.
"The King ate at dawn, Your Majesty," she said, not looking me in the eye. "He is in meetings with the Northern Packs. He said not to disturb him."
"Of course."
I sat down and picked up a piece of dry toast.
I wasn't hungry. I hadn't been hungry for a week.
I just stared at the empty chair at the head of the table.
Seven days ago, he would have been sitting there, staring at me with that intense, brooding eyes.
He would have been a jerk, or he would have been protective, or he would have been fighting the urge to touch me.
Now, he was just... busy.
He wasn't avoiding me because he was afraid of the bond anymore.
He was avoiding me because I didn't matter anymore.
To Dante, a checkmark on a list of things he needed to do to bear an heir.
The loneliness hit me then.
It was worse than when Elara was the favorite. It was worse than when my father ignored me.
Because I had tasted what it was like to be someone's everything.
And losing it was worse than never having it at all.
I spent the afternoon wandering the gardens.
I tried to read, but the words blurred on the page.
I tried to walk, but the Citadel felt like a maze that always led back to the same place: nowhere.
I found myself near the training grounds.
I knew I shouldn't go there.
I knew it would only hurt.
But my feet moved on their own, drawn to the sound of steel hitting steel.
I watched from the stone archway.
Dante was in the center of the ring, fighting three guards at once.
He was incredible.
He moved with a grace and speed that was almost impossible to follow.
He was shirtless, his bronze skin glistening with sweat.
The black marks of the curse were completely gone, his chest was smooth.
He looked happy. Or at least, he looked at peace.
The weight of the world was off his shoulders because the shadow was gone.
One of the guards landed a lucky strike, hitting Dante’s shoulder.
My heart jumped. I stepped forward, my hand going to my chest. "Dante!"
The word escaped before I could stop it.
The men paused.
The guards turned, and Dante followed their gaze.
He saw me standing there, clutching my skirts, looking like a lost child.
His expression didn't change. There was no flicker of heat. No flash of recognition.
"Venessa," he called. He wiped sweat from his forehead with a towel a guard handed him. "Did you need something?"
"No," I whispered. "I... I just wanted to see if you were alright.”
"I am fine," he said. He didn't move toward me. He didn't even smile. "The training is going well. You should return to the palace. The wind is picking up, and you look... weak."
Weak.
I wasn't his mate anymore. I was just a delicate person that might break if the wind blew too hard.
"Right," I said, my throat tightening. "I'll leave you to it."
I turned and ran
I didn't stop until I was back in the East Wing and my lungs were burning.
I slammed my door and leaned against it, gasping for air.
He didn't love me. He didn't even know me.
I was a ghost haunting a man who had moved on.
I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.
I needed to pull myself together. I was the Queen of the Lycans.
I couldn't spend my days crying over a man who had literally wiped me from his heart.
I reached for a towel, but my hand stopped in mid-air.
I looked down at my wrist. The silver line—the scar where the grey veins had been was glowing and felt a sudden coldness in my fingertips.
I looked in the mirror, and my breath hitched.
For a split second, my eyes weren't brown. They were a misty, clouded grey.
The shadow wasn't gone.
Dante had snapped the bond. He had closed the door to the Void. He had cured himself.
But I had taken too much of the darkness in.
I hadn't just been a bridge; I had been a sponge. And the sponge was still damp.
"No," I whispered, clutching the sink. "No, no, no."
If Dante found out, he would think the Void was still open. He would think I was a threat. Or worse, he would think he had failed.
I pulled my sleeves down, covering the silver line. I had to hide it.
I had to be the perfect, normal, Wolf Queen.
I couldn't let anyone know that the queen was still carrying the monster’s poison.
A knock sounded at my door.
I jumped, my heart racing. "Who is it?"
"It’s Rick, Your Majesty.”
My blood ran cold. Rick was supposed to be outside the kingdom. Dante had said he was being held for treason.
I walked to the door and opened it sightly.
Rick was standing there, but he wasn't in chains.
He was wearing a plain grey cloak, his face hidden. He looked thin, his eyes sunken and dark.
"How did you get out?" I hissed.
"Dante is a fair King," Rick said, his voice a ghost of its former self. "He realized that my 'treason' was born out of a desperate attempt to save him. He told me to get my things, and live a normal life. I leave at dawn."
Did he really say that? Dante had forgiven a man who had tried to kill me?
"Then why are you here?"
Rick looked around the hallway before pushing his way into my room.
I should have screamed, but I was too tired to be afraid.
He grabbed my arm, his fingers pulling my sleeves up before I could stop him.
He saw the silver line. He saw the faint, ghostly glow.
"It’s still there," he whispered, a terrifying smile spreading across his face.
"Get out," I said, trying to wrench my arm away.
"You don't understand, Venessa," Rick said, his grip tightening. "The mate bond is gone. Dante is free. But the Key... the Key can't be destroyed. It can only be passed."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Dante thinks he saved you," Rick chuckled. "He thinks by breaking the bond, he broke the connection to the First King. But he only broke his connection. You’re still tied to the Void. You’re the only thing left in this world that can hear him."
"Hear who?"
Rick leaned in, his breath cold against my ear. "The First King. He’s calling for you, Venessa. Every time you feel lonely, every time you look at Dante and see a stranger, that’s him pulling on the thread."
I pushed Rick away with a burst of strength I didn't know I had. "You’re crazy. Dante saved me. I’m normal."
"Are you?" Rick pointed to the mirror.
I looked. My eyes were grey again. A thick, smoky grey that seemed to swirl like a storm.
"He’s going to come for you," Rick said, backing toward the door. "And when he does, Dante won't be there to save you. Because Dante doesn't even remember why you’re worth saving."
Rick vanished into the hallway, leaving the door hanging open.
I collapsed onto the floor, my head in my hands.
The loneliness I had felt before was nothing compared to this.
Before, I was just a woman whose husband didn't want to risk her life.
Now, I was a woman who was rotting from the inside out, and the only person who could help me didn't even know I was hurting.
I looked at the silver line on my wrist. It was pulsing faster now.
Venessa...
A voice whispered in the back of my mind.
It didn't sound like a monster. It sounded like a friend.
It sounded like someone who understood exactly how it felt to be cast aside.
He doesn't want you, the voice said. But I do. I see the power in you. I see the Queen you were meant to be.
"Go away," I sobbed.
I crawled to the bed and buried myself under the covers. I stayed there for hours, shivering, waiting for the sun to go down.
I wanted to go to Dante.
I wanted to scream at him until he remembered. I wanted to show him my arm and tell him I was scared.
But I knew what would happen.
He would look at me with those beautiful, empty blue eyes.
He would offer me a doctor or a glass of water.
He would treat me like a problem to be solved, not a woman to be loved.
And that would be the final blow.
By midnight, the voice in my head was too loud.
I couldn't stay in the room anymore.
The walls were choking me. They were stealing the breath from my lungs.
I threw on a dark cloak and slipped out of my room.
I walked, avoiding the guards. I didn't know where I was going until I found myself back at the secret library.
The door was still broken, hanging off its hinges.
I went down the spiral stairs, my candle flickering in the damp room.
The room was just as we had left it—shattered glass, old books, and the smell of dried blood.
I sat on the floor where Dante and I had sat during the Red Moon. I touched the wall, trying to feel a spark of what we had.
"I'm so alone," I whispered to the empty room.
You are never alone, Venessa, the voice whispered back.
I looked at the black water in the basin. It wasn't still anymore. It was swirling, creating a vortex in the center.
A hand reached out of the water.
It wasn't a monster’s hand. It was a man’s hand—strong, scarred, and familiar.
I should have run. I should have screamed for the guards.
But I was so tired of being invisible. I was so tired of being the girl who didn't matter.
I reached out.
My fingertips grazed the surface of the water. The silver line on my wrist flared.
"Venessa!"
A voice shouted from the top of the stairs.
I spun around. Dante was standing there, his face pale in the candlelight.
He didn't look empty. He looked terrified.
"Get away from the basin!" he yelled, lunging down the stairs.
He tackled me away from the water just as a burst of black smoke erupted from the pool.
We hit the floor together, his body shielding mine as the stone room shook.
For a second, we were exactly as we had been in the Void. His heart was hammering against my chest. His scent—rain and bourbon was all around me.
"Dante?" I breathed, hope raising in my chest. "Do you remember?"
He looked down at me. His eyes were blue. So blue.
He blinked, and the terror in his expression vanished, replaced by that same, polite blankness.
He stood up and offered me a hand, his face smoothing into an expression of Kingly concern.
"I am sorry, Venessa," he said. "I saw you leaving the East Wing. This area is unstable. You shouldn't be here."
"You don't remember," I looked at him, tears wailing in my eyes. "You just saw your Queen wandering into a dangerous area."
Dante paused, his brow furrowing for a fraction of a second.
He looked at his hands, then at the basin.
"I... I felt a disturbance. My Lycan was restless. I came to ensure the Citadel was secure."
"The Citadel," I repeated. "Not me. The Citadel."
Dante didn't answer. He couldn't. The part of him that would have answered was shattered into a million pieces on the floor of the Void.
"Go back to your room, Venessa," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I will have a guard posted at your door. For your safety."
"I'm not safe anywhere, Dante," I said, walking past him toward the stairs. "But you wouldn't know that. Because you’re not looking at me."
I didn't look back. I didn't want to see the way he watched me leave.
I went back to my room and locked the door.
I pulled my sleeve up. The silver line was still glowing.
The shadow wasn't just a curse. It was a companion.
And it was the only thing I had left.