Chapter 67: The Glass Blade

\- SELENE

Kaelen dropped me onto the silk duvet, the movement more a statement of possession than an act of violence. I didn't scramble away. I didn't cower. I sat up, slowly, smoothing the ruined purple silk over my knees with a composure that I knew would irritate him more than a scream.

He began unbuttoning his waistcoat, his movements steady, his eyes never leaving mine. That dark, visceral hunger from the hallway hadn't faded; it had sharpened.

"You’ve spent the whole night looking at me like you’re waiting for me to trip," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He tossed the waistcoat onto a chair. "But here we are. The treaty is signed. The Alphas are gone. And you’re still in my room."

"And Vireya is still in her bed," I countered, my voice steady. "Or is she? You haven't checked on her once tonight, Kaelen. Not even to see if she survived the evening air."

He paused, his fingers at the collar of his shirt. A flash of annoyance crossed his face—a tiny crack in the mask. "Vireya is fragile. You, apparently, are made of sturdier stuff."

"Is that what this is?" I stood up, walking toward the vanity. I picked up a heavy silver hairbrush, turning it over in my hands. "A reward for being 'sturdy'? Or are you just bored of playing nursemaid to a girl who can't even stand the smell of your cologne?"

He was across the room in three strides. He grabbed my wrist, twisting it just enough to make me drop the brush. It hit the floor with a dull thud. He caged me against the vanity, his chest pressing against my shoulder blades.

"I’m bored of the games, Selene," he hissed into my ear. "I’m bored of the hidden glances and the quiet defiance. You wanted to show me your teeth? Here I am. Bite."

I turned in his arms, forcing him to look me in the eye. I didn't pull away from his touch. Instead, I leaned in, my lips inches from his.

"You don't want me to bite, Kaelen," I whispered, my voice a soft, lethal purr. "You want me to break. You want to see if you can still find the girl who used to cry when you raised your voice. But she’s not here. You killed her the day you brought that 'Luna' into this house."

I reached up, my fingers grazing his jaw, tracing the line of his stubble with a light, clinical touch. "You’re attracted to this 'new' me because you’re realizing that Vireya is a hollow prize. She’s a bloodline, nothing more. She can't challenge you. She can't even look you in the eye without trembling."

I let my hand drop to his chest, right over his heart. It was beating fast. Too fast.

"You’re lonely, Kaelen," I said, the words hitting like a physical blow. "You’ve surrounded yourself with Alphas who fear you and a mate who’s half-dead. You’re the king of a graveyard. And now you’re looking at me, hoping I’ll be the one to actually feel something for you—even if it’s just hate."

His grip on my wrist tightened until the bone groaned, but he didn't move. His eyes were blown wide, the pupils swallowing the iris. I had hit the nerve. The psychological warfare was working; I was stripping away the Alpha and leaving the man, and he hated how naked he felt.

"You think you know me?" he growled, his voice cracking.

"I know you better than anyone," I said. "I know that tonight, while you were signing that treaty, you weren't thinking about peace. You were thinking about how many of those men you’ll have to kill by winter. And you were looking at me, wondering if I’d be the one to hold the knife for you."

I smiled, a slow, cold thing that didn't reach my eyes. "But I won't, Kaelen. Because a wolf doesn't hunt for the man who keeps her in a cage. She just waits for the door to be left unlatched."

He shoved me back against the vanity, the glass bottles of perfume rattling and clinking. He looked like he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat, but he was vibrating with a different kind of energy. The attraction was a fever now, fueled by the very things I was using to push him away.

"You think you’re so smart," he said, his breath hot against my face. "You think these little speeches protect you."

"I think they remind you that I’m not yours," I said. "You can take what you want tonight. You’re stronger. You’re the Alpha. But every time you touch me, you’ll know that I’m counting the seconds until you fall asleep. You’ll wonder if the wine tasted a little too bitter."

I leaned my head back, exposing my neck—a gesture of mock submission that was actually a threat. "Go ahead, Kaelen. Celebrate your treaty. But remember: the more you take, the less I have to lose. And a woman with nothing left to lose is the only thing a man like you should actually fear."

He froze. The fire in his eyes didn't go out, but it changed. The raw lust was suddenly tempered by a sharp, cold hit of reality. I was planting seeds of paranoia in the one place he couldn't guard—his own mind.

He stayed there for a long time, his weight pinning me against the wood, his heart hammering against mine. The silence in the room was deafening.

"You’re a poison, Selene," he whispered, his voice sounding hollow.

"I’m the cure you didn't want," I replied.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he stepped back. He didn't look at me. He walked over to the window, staring out at the dark expanse of the Silver Ridge. The moonlight caught the sharp edge of his profile, making him look old. Older than he was.

"Get changed," he said, his back still turned. "The bed is yours tonight. I have... things to study."

"The trade routes?" I asked, my voice light, mocking. "Or the kill boxes?"

He didn't answer. He just stood there, a solitary figure against the glass.

I didn't wait for him to change his mind. I moved to the dressing room, my legs feeling like lead but my mind racing. I had won the night. I had used his own ego and his own blooming attraction as a shield. He was too unsettled to touch me now; I had made myself a ghost in his bed before he could even lie down.

As I pulled off the ruined purple silk, I looked at my reflection in the small dressing mirror. My neck was red where his hand had been, and my wrists were bruised. But my eyes—they were bright with a cold, hard light.

Two days, I thought. Just two more days.

I dressed in a simple, heavy nightgown. When I came back into the main room, Kaelen was gone. The door to his private study was closed, a sliver of light bleeding from under the frame.

I climbed into the massive bed, the sheets cold and smelling of lavender and his sharp cologne. I didn't close my eyes. I lay there in the dark, listening to the house breathe, listening for the sound of a guard’s boots or a muffled cough from the gardens.

I had played the part of the queen. I had played the part of the victim. I had even played the part of the temptress.

But as I reached under the pillow and felt the sharp, jagged edge of the silver hairbrush I’d dropped—the one I’d managed to kick under the bed and retrieve when he wasn't looking—I knew the next part I had to play was the hardest one of all.

I had to be the one who didn't look back.

I gripped the brush, the cold metal grounding me. Somewhere out there, Rowan was moving through the dark. Somewhere out there, the "bird" message was flying.

I'm coming, I whispered into the silence of the room. Just hold on.

The clock in the hall struck one.

The second day had begun.