Chapter 20: CHAPTER 20

Logan’s POV

The room felt smaller with her inside it.

Ophelia sat on the edge of my bed, shoulders tense, fingers curled into the sheets as if unsure whether to run or stay. The fire in the hearth cast an orange glow around her, making her hair burn like strands of molten gold. She looked fragile—too fragile for the chaos rising in the kingdom.

But I already knew better.

There was nothing fragile about the girl who survived years of torment in the Moon Pack… or the glowing finger and curse.

My wolf paced in circles inside me, claws dragging against my ribs, breaths coming out rough and restless.

Mate, mates, protect her.

She’s not ours, I forced back. She doesn’t even want to be here.

But my wolf only snarled and lunged again, slamming against the inside of my chest the moment her gaze lifted and met mine.

Her eyes widened at the sound rumbling out of me.

“I’m fine,” I lied, gripping the door frame until it splintered under my fingers. “Just… tired.”

She frowned. “Your wolf—he seems… on edge.”

“On edge,” I echoed with a short, humorless laugh. “Yes. That’s one word for it.”

Obsessed was another. Losing control was the truth.

Ever since the incident in the garden, the moment she almost collapsed from the poison, the moment my arms wrapped around her before I even thought about it… my wolf hadn’t calmed.

He wanted her scent, her presence, and her heartbeat, every part of her.

And now she was in my room.

A mistake.

A necessary one, but a mistake.

“My Lord?” Her voice tugged me back. “Are you sure you want me here? I can stay in the guest wing.”

“No.” The word came out sharper than intended. “You’re safer here.”

“Safe,” she murmured, lowering her head. “Sometimes I don’t know what that even means anymore.”

Her voice cracked a little. Just enough for my wolf to shove against my skin again.

I forced distance between us, walking toward the balcony before I said or did something that would terrify her. The night wind hit me, cool and sharp, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. But beneath it was something else—unease.

The kingdom had grown restless, and now the scouts confirmed it.

She swallowed. “my Lord… I think someone that can be controlling the rogue attacks.”

My chest tightened. “What did you hear?”

She hesitated for only a second. “When I went to get water earlier… two elders were talking in the corridor. They said you were blinded by ‘the cursed girl.’ They said the rogues will ‘push you into the corner’ and the Moon Pack will ‘claim what they deserve.’”

A low, feral sound rolled out of me.

“They’re plotting behind your back,” she whispered.

“So it seems,” I said with deadly calm. “But let them plot. They have no idea what a corner looks like when it comes to me.”

My wolf howled in agreement.

She shivered her eyes and wandered the whole room as if looking for something. Something lost.

And despite everything, despite her resistance, her distrust of me… she was here. In my chambers alone, I know how lonely she might have felt. But I just wanted to protect her

“Ophelia.” I sat beside her, slowly, carefully keeping enough distance so she wouldn’t feel cornered. “I need you to understand something.”

She looked up. Those eyes—gods—they undid me every time.

“I’m preparing for war,” I said. “Rogues Elders, your old pack Whoever thinks they’re powerful enough to threaten this kingdom. But I will not leave you behind.”

Her lips parted in shock. “Why?”

Because you’re my mate.

Because my wolf loses his mind without you.

Because the thought of harm touching you makes me want to burn the world.

None of these words would help her. She can't know yet, I feel the bond but she doesn't yet, I need her to feel it too when she is powerful enough to accept the bond. She is broken now.

“Because you’re under my protection,” I said instead. “And my protection is not a cage—it’s a promise.”

She looked away. “It feels like a cage sometimes.”

My chest tightened painfully. “Then tell me how to fix it.”

She blinked, surprised. “You… want to know what I want?”

“Yes.” I replied calmly, but thought was already running through my head.

Her voice lowered. “Freedom.”

Ah.

Of course.

I exhaled slowly, fingers curling.

“I can’t give you that,” I admitted honestly. “Not now. Not while there are threats everywhere. Not while someone is trying to kill you.”

“Then what am I to you?” she whispered. “A responsibility? A burden? A symbol because your wolf reacts to me?”

I turned to her fully.

“No,” I said with a roughness I didn’t hide. “You are the one thing I cannot afford to lose.”

Her breath trembled.

For a second, just a second, she looked at me—not as a king. Not as the Lycan she feared. But as someone who would break the world before letting harm touch her.

Before either of us could say more, a sharp knock echoed.

“Your Majesty!” A warrior’s voice rang through the door. “Urgent news!”

I strode forward and opened it. “Speak.”

“The rogues,” he said breathlessly. “They’ve crossed the southern ridge. They’re moving fast.”

Ophelia gasped behind me.

Another warrior hurried after him.

“And… the rumors, My King… Lady Seraphina is spreading them openly now. She claims Lady Ophelia bewitched you with forbidden magic.”

My jaw flexed. “Shut it down.”

“We tried, Your Majesty, but she’s—”

“I said shut it down.” My voice echoed with the force of my Alpha command. The warrior bowed deeply and rushed out.

I closed the door and turned back to Ophelia.

She stood there, pale, shaken.

“They think I bewitched you,” she whispered. “Why would they say that?”

“Because they fear you,” I said simply. “And power always fears what it cannot understand.”

Her fire burned suddenly, bright, fierce, wild, flaring across her skin before she forced it down with trembling hands.

My wolf stopped pacing, growling and fighting, just then I know I have to find out enough about her powers, and it works.

My wolf stared at her with something I had never felt from him before.

She was powerful, terrifyingly.

And the world would come for her because of it, but not on my watch. I will protect her with everything I can.

I moved to her, slow and controlled. My fingers hovered near her arm, not touching and waiting.

She didn’t pull away.

“Ophelia,” I murmured, “you are not the curse they say you are.”

Her eyes softened, only a fraction.

“You are the fire they fear,” I whispered. “And you are mine to protect.”