Chapter 37 A new beginning?
The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. The man leaning against the doorframe wasn't a stranger. I’d seen that silhouette in the peripheral of my nightmares, a shadow that had haunted the borders of the King’s territory for as long as I could recall.
"You," I whispered, the word catching in my throat. "I’ve seen you before."
Beside me, Kelvin stiffened, his body coiling into a defensive stance despite his lack of a weapon. "Alpha Thorne," he said, his voice dropping into a wary, jagged register.
Thorne tilted his head, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. He didn't look at Kelvin; his eyes remained locked on mine, heavy with a terrifying sort of focus.
"Your subordinates know me," Thorne mused, his voice smooth as polished stone. "But I don't blame you for the lapse in memory. I am a hybrid—a blur in the peripheral. How could a creature like you truly see me until I wanted to be seen?"
The room felt smaller. It wasn't just the walls; it was the way he occupied the space, a psychological weight that seemed to demand my submission. My heart was thundering, a frantic rhythm that betrayed my attempt at composure.
"Why did you kidnap us?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. "Why put us in a dungeon? And why..." I hesitated, the confession tasting like poison. "Why do I feel this pull toward you? What do you want?"
"Shhhhh." Thorne stepped into the room, the movement fluid and unnervingly quiet. He raised a finger to his lips, a gesture that was patronizingly gentle. "One question at a time, princess."
My blood ran cold. Princess. The word was a knife. Nobody in the King’s court called me that. To them, I was a reclaimed servant, a lucky tool. "How do you know who I am?"
"You walked right into my territory exactly when I was looking for you," he said, his eyes tracing the line of my throat. "I heard the news. The ghost has returned to the palace. The lady you replaced is back in her husband's bed, isn't she?"
The mention of the King’s wife was a fresh wound, salt rubbed into a raw opening. I straightened my spine, refusing to let him see me crumble. "It’s none of my business. I was a mute stripper to them—a body to fill a void. I’ve fulfilled my part. I’m free of him."
"Free?" Thorne laughed, a low, melodic sound that lacked any real mirth. "You think you're free just because you stepped over a fence?"
"Stay away from her!" Elio barked, stepping between us. "She is our Queen!"
I placed a hand on Elio’s shoulder, gesturing for her to stand down. I knew this game. If I showed fear, he won. If I showed aggression, he’d crush us. I reached up, slowly brushing my hair away from my neck, exposing the faint, shimmering rose mark the King had burned into my skin.
"I have been claimed," I said firmly. "I belong to the lunar bloodline."
Thorne took a step closer, invading my personal space until I could feel the heat radiating from him. He didn't look at the mark with respect; he looked at it with pity. "But he isn't with you anymore, is he? He’s with his real mate. You’re just the echo of a memory he’s trying to forget."
"I shouldn't even be talking to you," I hissed, my pulse leaping where his gaze rested. "I know what you are. I know you tried to kill him. I know you’re the enemy."
Thorne’s expression shifted, a flicker of something dark and ancient crossing his features. He reached out, not to touch me, but to tilt his head as if inspecting a curious specimen.
"That’s where you’re wrong, little bird. I didn't try to kill your mate. Your father did."
The world seemed to tilt. "What?"
"You think I’m the villain of this story?" Thorne’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes boring into mine, stripping away my defenses. "Your father wiped out your family. He’s the one who left you with nothing. Imagine watching that and then blaming the man who merely stood in the wreckage. Now you should understand why I hate the King so much. He keeps the company of monsters and calls it justice."
The words pierced me deeper than any blade. I’d spent my life mourning a tragedy I thought I understood, only to have this stranger rewrite my history in a single sentence. I felt the foundations of my identity cracking, leaving me adrift.
"I will keep you with me," Thorne continued, his dominance now absolute as he turned toward the door, expecting us to follow. "I will treat you well. And when the King finally comes to his senses and realizes what he threw away, I will use you as the ultimate bargain. But don't worry—I won't make you a mute. I’m feeling something for you, a connection I can't quite map out yet. I won't let you go until I figure out why my soul rages when you’re near."
He led us out of the darkness and into the blinding light of the human world.
It was jarring. After the oppressive silence of the dungeon and the stagnant air of the palace, the city was a riot of noise and scent. I saw glass towers reaching for the clouds, the smell of street food and exhaust fumes, people on bicycles weaving through traffic, a man sprinting to catch a departing bus. They moved with a frantic, oblivious energy. To them, we were just three more people on a sidewalk. They didn't see the marks on our necks or the war in our hearts.
Thorne gestured toward a sleek black car idling at the curb. "Will you enter the vehicle, or would you prefer the hospitality of the cellar?"
I looked at him, my eyes burning with a mixture of hatred and a confusing, magnetic draw I couldn't explain. He wasn't asking; he was commanding, wrapping his will around mine like a silken leash.
"I know it’s not a question," I said, my voice cold. "But I’ll go. Not for you—but because I need to know why I tremble when you look at me. I need to know what you’ve done to me."
I watched Elio and Kelvin get into the lead car with Thorne. I was ushered into the second vehicle, alone in the plush leather interior. As we moved through the city, I watched the world blur through the window.
Was the King looking for me? Did he even realize the bed was cold? Or was he too wrapped up in his resurrected queen to notice the tool had gone missing? My heart ached when I thought of him, a dull, familiar throb—but it was nothing like the sharp, electric terror I felt for Thorne.
An hour later, the car slowed. We pulled into a massive estate that looked nothing like a fortress. It was a palace of glass and light, surrounded by sprawling gardens of roses, sunflowers, and lilies. I stepped out, my boots hitting soft pavement.
Men and women moved through the grounds freely. I saw children playing near a fountain, groups of people practicing combat in an open courtyard, and others gathered in what looked like a language school. It was a community, vibrant and alive, governed by a different set of rules.
Thorne stood at the top of the glass stairs, looking down at me with that same unsettling, knowing smile.
"I promise you," he said, his voice echoing across the courtyard, "you will love this place. It's much easier to be a Queen when you aren't looking o
ver your shoulder for a ghost."
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