Chapter 14 CHAPTER 14

Chapter 14 CHAPTER 14
Kira's POV
"My Lady?" Kastiel's voice held that careful neutrality he'd perfected over the decades. The one that said he was listening but giving nothing away. "What do you need?"

What do I need?

The question almost made me laugh. Almost made me scream.

What I needed was for time to reverse. For that girl to have never existed. For Dmitri to look at me—just once—the way he'd looked at her.

But I couldn't say that.

Not yet.

"Come inside." The words came out steadier than I felt. "Please."

Kastiel's eyes flicked past me, into my chambers, and I saw the moment he registered the destruction. The shattered glass. The overturned furniture. The silk curtains hanging in shreds.

His jaw tightened. "My Lady, perhaps it would be better if we spoke in—"

"Inside." 

I grabbed his wrist before he could finish, my fingers wrapping around the leather of his bracer. His skin was warm beneath my touch, solid, real—an anchor in the storm threatening to pull me under.

I pulled.

He could have resisted. Could have planted his feet and refused to budge. He was a warrior, trained and deadly, and I might be Lycan but I wasn't stronger than him in this form.

But he didn't resist.

He let me pull him across the threshold, let me drag him into the wreckage of my life, and I slammed the door shut behind us with enough force to rattle the frame.

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating.

Kastiel stood in the center of the room, his eyes sweeping over the destruction with that same carefully blank expression. Taking inventory. Assessing.

"You've redecorated," he said dryly.

Bastard.

"Don't." The word came out sharp. Raw. "Don't make jokes. Not now."

His eyes found mine, and something in his expression softened. Just a fraction.

"Kira—"

"I need to know about her." The words burst out before I could stop them. "The girl. The one Dmitri brought here. The one he—" My voice cracked. I forced it steady. "Tell me about her."

Kastiel's face went carefully blank again. That damned neutral mask sliding back into place.

"I don't know what you're asking."

"Bullshit." I took a step closer, glass crunching under my boots. "You brought her here. You were there when he bought her. You've been his Beta for seventy years—you know everything that happens in this castle."

"My Lady—"

"So tell me." Another step. "Tell me who she is. Where she came from. Why the fuck Dmitri is protecting her like she's made of spun gold when he's never given a damn about any of the others."

Kastiel's jaw tightened. "I can't discuss the King's—"

"Can't?" I laughed, and the sound was bitter enough to curdle milk. "Or won't?"

"Both."

The single word hit like a slap.

I stared at him, fury building behind my eyes like pressure in a sealed bottle.

"I'm not asking for state secrets, Kastiel. I'm asking about a slave."

"She's not—" He caught himself, mouth snapping shut.

But I'd heard it.

She's not a slave.

"What is she then?" My voice dropped, dangerous and low. "What is she to him?"

"That's not my place to say."

"Your place?" The laugh that tore from my throat was jagged. Wrong. "Your place is standing at his side. Following his orders. Protecting his interests. Just like I've been doing for a gods-damned century."

Kastiel's expression didn't change. "Then you should understand better than anyone that I can't—"

"I understand that you're choosing her." The words came out strangled. "You're choosing some nobody over me. Just like he did."

"Kira—"

"Don't." I held up a hand, nails biting into my palms. "Don't tell me I'm overreacting. Don't tell me to calm down. Don't give me that look like I'm being unreasonable."

"You're not being unreasonable," Kastiel said quietly. "You're hurting."

And that—gods, that—was what broke me.

The understanding in his voice. The gentleness.

Because it meant he saw. He knew what I was feeling. Knew how deep this cut.

And he still wasn't going to help me.

"He almost killed me today." My voice came out small. Broken. "Did you know that? He looked at me like I was—like I was nothing. Like a hundred years meant nothing. Like everything I've sacrificed, everything I've endured—"

My throat closed up. Tears burned behind my eyes, hot and humiliating.

"I've given him everything," I whispered. "My body. My dignity. My life. I let him hurt me. Use me. Break me. Because I thought—I thought if I just held on long enough, if I just proved how devoted I was—"

A sob tore free before I could stop it.

"He would love me." The confession felt like ripping my chest open. "He would finally see me and love me back."

Kastiel's expression cracked. Just a fraction. Grief flickering in those ice-blue eyes.

"Kira..."

"But he never did." Tears spilled over, hot and bitter on my cheeks. "Not in a hundred years. Not once. And now—now some pathetic little slave shows up and in days—days, Kastiel—she's done what I couldn't do in a century."

The admission tasted like poison.

"She made him care."

Kastiel was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was careful. Measured.

"I can't tell you what you want to know."

"Please." The word cracked in the middle. "Please, Kastiel. I'm not asking for much. Just—just tell me who I'm competing with. That's all. Just give me something."

"My loyalty is to my King." But his voice was gentler now. Regretful. "I can't betray his confidence. Not even for you."

Not even for you.

Like we didn't have history. Like we hadn't stood side by side through the worst of Dmitri's madness. Like he didn't owe me something after all these years.

The tears came harder now, ugly and choking.

I couldn't stop them. Couldn't hold them back anymore.

All the rage, all the pain, all the desperate, clawing need—it poured out of me in great, heaving sobs that shook my entire frame.

"I just—I just want to understand," I gasped between sobs. "What does she have that I don't? What is it about her that made him—that made him choose her over—"

I couldn't finish. Couldn't force the words past the grief lodged in my throat.

Before I knew what I was doing, I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around Kastiel's neck.

He went rigid. Surprised.

But he didn't push me away.

"Please," I sobbed into his shoulder, my fingers clutching at his armor like it was the only thing keeping me upright. "Please, I'm begging you. I've lost everything. My chambers. My status. My—my dignity. Don't let me lose this too. Don't let me lose him without at least knowing why."

Kastiel's hands came up slowly, hesitantly, and settled on my back. Not quite a hug. But not rejection either.

"I can't keep living like this," I whispered against his armor, my voice breaking. "Every day watching him look past me like I'm furniture. Like I'm nothing. Maybe—maybe it would be better if I just—"

"Don't." Kastiel's voice turned sharp. His hands tightened on my back. "Don't even finish that sentence."

"Why not?" A bitter laugh bubbled up through my tears. "What do I have left? He's taking my chambers. My position. He's already taken my dignity. What's the point of—"

"Stop."

The command in his voice made me fall silent.

I felt him exhale—long, heavy, like he was releasing something he'd been holding for too long.

"Goddess help me," he muttered. Then, quieter: "She survived him."

I went still.

"What?"

"The girl." Kastiel's voice was barely above a whisper. "She survived a full feral episode. His beast. Everything."

My blood turned to ice.

I pulled back, staring up at him, not quite believing what I'd heard.

"That's—that's impossible." My voice came out strangled. "I'm the only one who's ever—the only Lycan strong enough to—"

"I know." His expression was grim. "That's what makes it so disturbing."

No.

No, no, no.

"She's wolfless," I spat. "I could smell it on her. There's no wolf in that pathetic little body. She's weaker than an omega. How the fuck did she—"

"We don't know." Kastiel's hands dropped from my back, and suddenly I felt cold. Unanchored. "Meira examined her. Ran every test she could think of. Found nothing that would explain it."

My mind was racing, trying to piece it together. Trying to make it make sense.

"The white wolf," I said slowly. "That's why he bought her. She's supposed to be a white wolf."

Kastiel hesitated. Then nodded.

"But Meira couldn't confirm it?"

"No wolf at all. Not white, not gray, not anything." His jaw tightened. "But she theorized that maybe—maybe—the girl is a stronger variant. Something dormant. Something that could survive his beast even without manifesting."

Bullshit.

"He's killed white wolves before," I said flatly. "I've seen the bodies, Kastiel. Three of them. All dead within hours."

"I know."

"So what makes her special?" The question came out as a snarl. "What the fuck is different about this one?"

"I don't know." And I could hear the frustration in his voice. The confusion. "No one knows. That's what's driving Dmitri mad."

Good.

Let him go mad. Let him tear himself apart trying to understand.

But even as the thought formed, I knew it wasn't enough.

Because mad or not, obsessed or not—

He wanted her.

Not me.

"What else?" My voice was hollow now. Empty. "What else has he done for her?"

Kastiel's expression turned wary. "Kira—"

"Tell me."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "He's made her his personal maid."

The words hit like a physical blow.

Personal maid.

My vision blurred. The room tilted.

"His... his personal maid." I repeated the words slowly, testing them. Tasting the poison in them. "She'll be in his chambers. Serving him. Close to him. Every. Single. Day."

"Kira—"

"What else?" I cut him off, my voice brittle as glass. "There's more. I can see it in your face."

Kastiel's jaw worked. He didn't want to tell me.

Which meant it was bad.

"Kastiel."

"He told me..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "He told me that his Lycan calms around her."

The world stopped.

"What?" The word came out as barely a whisper.

"His beast. The madness." Kastiel's eyes held something that looked almost like pity. "He said when he thinks of her, when he's near her, it... quiets. For the first time in a century, Kira. It quiets."

I couldn't breathe.

Couldn't think.

Couldn't process what he'd just said.

His Lycan calms around her.

A hundred years. A hundred fucking years I'd been the only thing standing between Dmitri and complete feral madness. The only one strong enough to endure him when the beast took over. The only one who could bring him back from the edge.

That had been my purpose. My value. The one thing that made all the pain, all the humiliation, all the nights he'd used me like a gods-damned stress toy worth it.

Because I was necessary.

Because without me, he would have torn the kingdom apart.

And now—

Now this pathetic, wolfless little nothing had done in days what I couldn't do in a century.

She'd quieted the beast.

Not by enduring it. Not by being strong enough to survive it.

But by simply existing.

"No." The word ripped from my throat. "No, that's not—that's not possible."

"Kira—"

"I'm the only one!" My voice rose, cracking. "I'm the only one who's ever been able to help him! I've spent a hundred years—"

"I know." Kastiel's voice was gentle. Too gentle. Like he was talking to someone about to break.

He was right.

I was about to break.

"She does nothing," I choked out. "She just stands there, crying and trembling like a wounded animal, and he—he—"

I couldn't finish.

Couldn't force the words past the agony tearing through my chest.

The rage didn't disappear. It just... compressed. Condensed into something cold and hard and patient.

Because if I couldn't hurt her directly—

If I couldn't claw her eyes out or snap her neck or make her pay for stealing what should have been mine—

Then I'd have to be smarter about it.

More subtle.

I'd have to destroy her in ways Dmitri couldn't trace back to me.

And I'd have to do it carefully.

Because I'd waited a hundred years for him.

I could wait a little longer.

"Thank you," I said quietly, pulling back from Kastiel completely. "For telling me."

He studied my face, wariness flickering in his eyes. "Kira—"

"I won't do anything stupid." The lie came easily. Smoothly. "I just needed to understand. That's all."

"I know that look." His voice turned hard. "Whatever you're planning—"

"I'm not planning anything." I smiled, and I knew it didn't reach my eyes. "I'm going to accept my punishment and the situation."

Kastiel didn't look convinced.

Smart man.

"Stay away from her," he said quietly. "I mean it, Kira. Whatever you're feeling right now—however justified you think it is—don't."

"I won't touch her." Another easy lie. "You have my word."

I won't touch her.

But that doesn't mean I can't make her life a living hell.

Kastiel held my gaze for another moment, then sighed and moved toward the door.

"Get some rest," he said. "And summon the servants to clean this mess."

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

I stood there in the wreckage of my chambers, surrounded by shattered glass and broken furniture.

And smiled.

Personal maid.

How... convenient.

Because personal maids had access. Had proximity. Had opportunities.

And accidents happened all the time in a castle this size.

A fall down the stairs. A slip with a knife. A door left unlocked when it should have been secured.

So many ways for a fragile little peasant to get hurt.

So many ways for the girl who'd somehow quieted the beast that I'd spent a century trying to tame to simply... disappear.