Chapter 13 My Salvation, My Damnation
DAGNOTH DRACULIS
The hall had gone silent, save for the faint hum of voices from the women lined up before me.
Hundreds of them were hopeful and nervous; some were even desperate enough to paint their skin with gold dust and perfume their necks with the scent of roses. I could smell every single one of them, and none stirred a thing in me. My wolf, Dragan, remained quiet, painfully dormant. Just as he had been for the past five years.
Until she stepped forward.
It happened fast.
A scent, It was soft, wild, and oddly familiar. It cut through the air like a memory I shouldn’t have had. My wolf snapped awake, snarling beneath my skin. For the first time in months, he stirred. "Mine," he growled, but before I could grasp it, the connection flickered and vanished like smoke.
She stood before me; she was calm and poised, yet fragile in a way that pulled at something buried deep inside me.
Her eyes… gods, those eyes. I felt as though I had seen them before, but it couldn’t be. The woman I once knew, the one who had haunted my dreams and my damnation, was dead. I had been told she was gone.
I forced my expression into stone, hiding the chaos beneath. “Next,” I said, my voice low, cold.
But my gaze didn’t move on. Not right away. I stared at her for one heartbeat too long, and in that heartbeat, Dragan pushed harder. He wanted out. He wanted her.
And then she bowed slightly, turned, and the scent faded. Dragan whimpered in protest, retreating, leaving me hollow again.
His connection with me was shallow.
“Your Majesty,” Simone, my beta, murmured beside me. “Should we continue?”
I clenched my jaw, forcing my attention away from her retreating figure. “Yes,” I muttered. “Continue.”
But the ceremony after that was nothing more than a blur of faces I didn’t care to remember. When it ended, and I finally stepped out into the cool night, the weight of that moment still pressed against my chest.
Back in my private chambers, Simone followed me in, silent until I spoke.
“She was… different,” I said finally, pouring myself a drink. The liquid burned down my throat, but not enough to dull the strange ache forming there. “For a second, just a second, I felt Dragan. He was awake.”
Simone’s brows drew together. “Your wolf?”
“Yes.” I set the glass down hard enough to make it crack. “He reacted to her.”
Simone hesitated before saying, “Then the plan worked.”
I turned to him sharply. “You mean the seer’s words? That the gods would send another?”
He nodded slowly. “I think she’s the one.”
“She can’t be.” I cut him off before he could speak further. “That woman...” I paused, swallowing back the name I hadn’t spoken in years.
“Maybe she is the mysterious lady from years ago.”
“She died, Simone. You told me yourself.”
“I said she disappeared,” he corrected quietly. “The Silver Moon Pack was the only source of that information?”
The words hit harder than I expected. My chest tightened. I turned away, pacing toward the fire. “I’ve already buried that ghost. Don’t bring her back to me now.”
He didn’t argue, not directly. “Still… you can’t deny what happened tonight. Your wolf reacted. That hasn’t happened since... ”
“She can’t be my savior and the woman I’m supposed to end her bloodline; there has to be another.”
The silence that followed was heavy. I hated it. I hated the memories clawing at the edges of my mind: the masked night, the scent of her skin, the way she’d made me feel something close to peace for the first time in years… And then she was gone.
Simone exhaled. “If what the seer said is true, you need to keep her close.”
“I don’t need her.” I snapped the words, too sharp, too quick. “I’ve ruled perfectly well without a mate.”
“You’ve ruled,” he agreed carefully, “but your wolf is dying, Dagnoth. Without him, your power will fade. The packs will start to doubt you. You felt what happened tonight; you need her to wake him fully.”
I glared at him, but he wasn’t wrong. I’d felt the drain over the years, the slow weakening of that primal bond that made me more than just a king.
“Fine,” I said finally, my voice low. “Get me everything we have on her. Her name, her pack, her background. I want to know who she is, where she’s been, and why she smells like…”
I didn’t finish. Didn’t need to. Simone bowed slightly. “Already working on it.”
When he returned hours later, his report was brief. “Dahlia Johnson. Unbonded. From the Silver Moon Pack. A trained healer and doctor. She moved here with her three pups a few days ago.”
My blood ran cold. Silver Moon.
It couldn’t be her. I turned away, gripping the edge of my desk. “Impossible,” I muttered. “She died. You told me—”
“I told you what we believed at the time,” Simone interrupted gently. “But if she’s truly from Silver Moon…” He hesitated, then said, “Maybe the gods had other plans.”
I wanted to curse him. Or laugh. Or both.
Instead, I said, “She’s nothing to me. This is just coincidence.”
Simone gave me a look I didn’t like. “Coincidence doesn’t wake your wolf, Dagnoth.”
He left shortly after, but his words clung to me like a curse. I didn’t sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face, the tilt of her chin, and the quiet strength behind her calm. The same defiance I remembered from that night long ago.
When dawn came, I summoned the seer. He arrived wrapped in silver veils, his eyes like frost. “You called, Your Majesty.”
“You told me once that the gods would send me the one destined to awaken my wolf,” I said. “Is it her?”
The seer smiled faintly. “You already know the answer.”
I gritted my teeth. “Why her? Why now?”
“Because time bends for the fated,” she said simply. “She is the one who holds both your ruin and your salvation.”
I stiffened. “Then why… why did my wolf vanish the moment before she left the hall?”
Her gaze sharpened. “Because you’re resisting what you already know. The bond between you is fractured, not broken. To restore it, you must spend a night with her. Only then will the gods decide if the connection can be healed or destroyed.”
I froze. “A night with her?”
The seer inclined her head. “Fate demands balance. Pain for peace. Darkness for light. One night, and you will know whether she is meant to save you or end you.”
His words lingered long after she was gone.
I stared out the window at the dark line of the forest, at the faint scent of rain drifting through the air.
A night with her.
I hoped she wasn’t the woman I’d spent five years trying to forget. The woman whose ghost had haunted me through every battle, every restless sleep.
For years, I’d drowned her memory in the arms of others; they were fleeting, empty moments that meant nothing. But none of them ever silenced the ache she left behind.
I shut my eyes, exhaling slowly. “Just one night,” I murmured. “Then we’ll see if the gods still have a sense of humor.”