Chapter 101
Aurora could not stop thinking about the kiss.
It had happened in the dark of her room three nights ago. Hardin had slipped in like a shadow, locked the door, cupped her face, and kissed her as if the world was ending. She had not pushed him away. She had pulled him closer. Her body had remembered him before her mind could catch up—heart racing, skin burning, wolf stirring weakly inside her chest like a long-sleeping animal finally waking to sunlight.
Since then, they stole moments.
A brush of fingers in the corridor when no one watched.
A whispered “I love you” passed behind a pillar.
A stolen glance during meals that made her cheeks heat and her breath catch.
They were careful. The palace had eyes everywhere. Kairo’s guards watched Hardin constantly, even after the order was withdrawn. The maid who had seen him in her room that night had whispered to others. Rumors moved like smoke. But no one had proof.
Aurora told herself it was wrong. Kairo was at war. Kairo loved her. Kairo was coming back for their wedding. She repeated it like a prayer. But every time Hardin looked at her across a room, every time his scent drifted past her in the hall, the prayer faltered.
She loved the feeling.
She loved the way her heart jumped when he was near.
She loved the way her wolf pressed against her ribs, wanting out, wanting him.
She loved the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing that mattered in a world full of noise.
They met in secret places.
The hidden garden behind the east wing—small, overgrown, forgotten.
The old tower stairwell that no one used.
The narrow servants’ passage between the kitchens and the great hall.
Each time was short. A few minutes. A few kisses. A few whispered words.
“I missed you today,” he would say against her mouth.
“I missed you more,” she would answer, even though she knew it was dangerous to admit.
He never pushed for more than she gave. Never asked her to leave Kairo. Never demanded she remember everything. He just held her. Kissed her. Told her he loved her. Told her he would wait.
And Aurora let herself fall a little deeper each time.
No guilt came.
She waited for it. Waited for the shame, the betrayal, the sick twist in her stomach. It never arrived. Instead, being with Hardin felt like breathing after holding her breath for too long. Like coming home after being lost. Like her body finally recognized where it belonged.
She told herself it was only kisses. Only moments. Only memories trying to surface. Nothing more.
But she knew it was more.
And she could not stop.
Four days after Kairo left, everything shattered.
It started with a scream in the great hall.
Aurora was with the queen, choosing ribbon colors for the wedding favors—silver, ivory, pale blue—when the doors burst open.
A guard ran in. Face pale. Breathing hard.
“Your Majesty! The king! Theft in the treasury!”
The queen stood. “What theft?”
The guard said, “A pouch of gold coins missing. The royal seal broken. And… a witness saw a guard near the door last night. Dark hair. Tall. The new one.”
Aurora’s stomach dropped.
Hardin.
The queen’s face hardened. “Bring him.”
Minutes later, Hardin was dragged into the hall. Arms bound behind his back. Face bruised. Lip split. Two guards held him by the shoulders.
The king sat on his throne. Face thunder.
“Explain,” the king said.
Hardin lifted his head. Voice steady. “I did not steal anything.”
The king said, “A witness says you were seen leaving the treasury hall at midnight. The pouch was found hidden in your quarters.”
Hardin said, “I was never in the treasury. I was on duty in the east wing all night.”
The king said, “The witness is reliable. A maid. She saw you.”
Aurora knew which maid. The one who had brought her tea the night Hardin kissed her. The one who had looked at them with suspicion.
Aurora stepped forward. “Your Majesty—”
The king looked at her. “Speak, child.”
Aurora said, “Hardin would not steal. He is loyal. There must be a mistake.”
The king said, “The pouch was in his room. The seal broken. The gold gone. The witness saw him.”
Aurora said, “Someone could have put it there. Framed him.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “Why would anyone frame a guard?”
Aurora did not answer. She could not say the truth. Not here.
The queen said, “The punishment for theft from the royal treasury is two hundred lashes. Public flogging.”
Aurora’s heart stopped.
Hardin did not flinch.
The king said, “Take him to the yard. Prepare the post.”
Guards pulled Hardin away.
Aurora followed. She could not stop herself.
The yard filled fast. Servants. Guards. Pack members. They came to watch.
Hardin was tied to the whipping post. Shirt torn off. Back bare. Arms stretched above his head. Chains around his wrists.
The chief guard held the whip. Long leather. Nine tails. Silver tips on the ends.
The king stood on the balcony. Voice loud.
“Two hundred lashes. For theft from the royal treasury.”
Aurora stood in the crowd. Tears in her eyes.
The first lash fell.
Crack.
Hardin’s body jerked. Skin split. Blood ran.
Aurora flinched.
Second lash.
Third.
Fourth.
She counted in her head. Silent. Tears falling.
Hardin did not cry out. He bit his lip until it bled. His back became ribbons of red. Silver tips tore deeper.
Aurora wanted to scream. To stop it. To run to him.
But she could not.
The queen stood beside her. Held her arm.
“Be strong, child,” the queen whispered.
Aurora could not speak.
Fifty lashes.
Sixty.
Seventy.
Hardin’s legs buckled. The chains held him up.
His head hung. Breathing ragged.
Aurora whispered, “Stop…”
No one heard.
One hundred.
One hundred and ten.
Hardin’s back was raw meat. Blood pooled at his feet.
Aurora felt sick.
She turned away.
The queen held her. “It is almost over.”
One hundred and fifty.
One hundred and sixty.
Hardin did not move anymore. Only the chains kept him upright.
Aurora cried silently.
Two hundred.
The chief guard stopped. Breathing hard.
Hardin hung limp.
The king said, “Cut him down. Put him in the cells. No healer. Let him think about his crime.”
Guards cut the chains.
Hardin fell to the ground. Did not move.
Aurora wanted to run to him. To hold him. To cry over him.
But the queen held her back.
“Come, child. You cannot be seen here.”
Aurora let herself be led away.
Tears streamed down her face.
She knew.
Hardin was framed.
Someone wanted him gone.
Someone wanted him punished.
Someone wanted to hurt her.
She knew who.
But she could not prove it.
She walked back to her room.
Alone.
Heart broken.
Body trembling.
She sat on the bed.
Cried.
For Hardin.
For the pain he took.
For the love she could not yet name.
For the choice she had to make.