Seth
“ANYTHING?” I ask the soldier hurrying toward me as I stride through the infirmary wing.
Roy shakes his head. “Nothing. We’ve had two of our witches go over the area. There’s no trace of magic, but there’s no scent, either, not even the healer’s. Lord Zane’s blood is there, but there’s no scent. We used human testing to check the blood. It’s his.”
My jaw tightens. “Has Lord Zane woken up?”
“Yes,” Roy says. “He’s waiting for you to come see him.”
I start walking toward the part of the infirmary that is reserved for those of royal blood or nobility. Zane Radrick falls into both categories. He’s the nephew of the late queen’s cousin and from the prominent Radrick family. He is also part of the Umbra Council, which could mean he’s dangerous. He has never really revealed which faction of the Council he sides with, and that makes him a wild card.
When Selene emerged from the forest like something from a nightmare—her dress torn and bloodied, her small frame barely supporting Zane’s unconscious weight—the sight stopped my heart cold. My body started moving before I could even process what I was seeing.
She had run from me in tears, my vicious words driving her into the darkness while I returned to the celebration. I forced myself to rejoin the party, to pretend nothing had happened, sure she would return soon. But she didn’t. My eyes searched for her for two hours, and when she didn’t show up, I decided to go find her. I had taken a few steps toward the forest when I saw her stumble out of the trees, covered in blood, barely able to walk, supporting a badly injured man.
My heart dropped into my stomach. For one terrifying moment, I thought it was her blood. I thought she had encountered danger in the forest, and I cursed myself in that moment.
I should have followed her!
The relief when I realized the blood wasn’t hers nearly brought me to my knees. But I ran to her and caught her just as she collapsed, her small body crumpling into my arms like she weighed nothing at all. My wolf howled with contentment even as my heart pounded in my chest.
I’ve been guarding the healers’ compound non-stop, unable to leave. Every time I try to walk away, something pulls me back. I tell myself it’s duty, or protocol, but deep down, I know the truth. I simply can’t bear to be away from Selene.
Earlier, when I pushed aside the curtain after hearing her voice, I immediately knew something was off. Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she laughed through tears, a hysterical laugh that made my blood go cold. I’ve never seen her look so relieved. And then, when she spoke to me, it was like I was no one.
I couldn’t sense any of the physical reactions she used to have to me. No quickened pulse. No change in scent. No trembling or breathless quality to her voice. Nothing.
My wolf is anxious, pacing restlessly in my mind, whimpering in confusion. He doesn’t understand why our mate isn’t responding to us anymore. The bond still thrums in my chest; I can still feel the fated connection pulling at me with that familiar ache. So, why is she not reacting to my presence?
I’m tense, every muscle coiled tight. Something happened in that forest; I’m sure of it. I just don’t know what.
I knock twice on the heavy, oaken door and wait for permission to enter. Even with my suspicions about him, protocol demands respect when dealing with the head of a noble house.
“Enter,” comes the smooth reply from within.
I push open the door and step inside, offering a brief bow of acknowledgment. “Lord Zane. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
Zane Radrick sits propped up against pristine, white pillows, looking far too composed for someone who was supposedly dying two nights ago. His dark hair sits on his head in carefully arranged waves that somehow look perfectly tousled despite his ordeal. His chocolate brown eyes are inviting and welcoming as they meet mine, the kind of gaze that would put most people immediately at ease. Yet something about that cordiality feels too practiced, too perfect, making my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin.
At thirty-two, he’s the youngest head of a major house in recent memory, a position he inherited after a series of convenient deaths. His father died in a hunting accident three years ago. His uncle—the previous heir—succumbed to a sudden illness just months later. A second uncle went missing during what should have been a routine business trip to the border territories. His body was never found, and after a year with no word, he was declared dead.
All mysterious. All perfectly timed to clear Zane’s path to power.
The Radrick family has always been influential, but under Zane’s leadership, it has become controlling. He has consolidated wealth and political connections at an alarming rate, all while maintaining the perfect façade of a grieving, young lord thrust into responsibility too soon.
“Please, Commander Rowan, sit.” He gestures to the chair beside his bed with easy assurance, those deep brown depths crinkling with what appears to be genuine amiability. “I assume this is about my unfortunate encounter in the forest.”
I remain standing, arms crossed. “If you’re feeling well enough to discuss it, my lord.”
His laugh is soft, refined, and his inviting gaze never leaves my face. “Much better now, thank you. Though I must admit, I don’t remember much after the attack began.”
“Can you tell me what you do remember?”
Zane leans back against his pillows, his expression open and engaging as if we’re old friends sharing stories over drinks. But I catch something else—a shadow passing behind those dark eyes that suggests he’s measuring every word, weighing every response.
“I’d been drinking at the celebration. Too much, I’m afraid. Decided I needed air, maybe a run to clear my head.”
“You went into the forest alone? Without guards?”
“I’m not helpless, Commander.” His voice remains smooth, but a slight tightness around his mouth hints at displeasure. “Or rather, I wasn’t. I’d made it deep into the forest, found a secluded spot to shift…” He trails off, his cordial gaze growing distant. “That’s when they came out of nowhere. Three shifters, already transformed. They attacked before I could even react.”
My wolf stirs uneasily. Something about his story doesn’t sit right. A man who eliminated three potential heirs to claim his birthright should be capable of handling a few rogue attackers, even if he had been under the influence of alcohol.
“And you couldn’t fight them off?”
Zane’s smile remains charming and is now filled with what looks like self-deprecating humor. “I was drunk, Commander. Unsteady on my feet, slow to respond. By the time I realized what was happening, they had me down.” He shrugs with practiced humility. “I suppose I’m not as formidable as my reputation suggests.”
The geniality in his expression never wavers, but his eyes tighten, a coldness forming in them that doesn’t match his courteous demeanor.
“Did you recognize them? Catch any scents that might help us identify them?”
“No. Everything happened so fast, and honestly, I was more focused on staying alive than taking notes.” His gaze meets mine with apparent sincerity, yet I can’t shake the feeling that he’s enjoying some private joke. “I suppose I should be grateful they left me alive.”
“Any idea why they would target you specifically?”
Zane tilts his head thoughtfully, that affable countenance never faltering. “Could have been random. Or…” He pauses, as if carefully considering his words. “There are factions that might see eliminating certain Council members as advantageous. Though I can’t imagine why anyone would want me gone.”
Another lie delivered with perfect, gracious control.
“We’ll investigate thoroughly, my lord. If these attackers are still in the area, they pose a threat to everyone.”
“How thoughtful of you.” His smile widens, and behind those brown eyes, a glimmer of interest surfaces that makes my skin crawl. “Speaking of which, where is the little healer who saved me? I’d like to thank her properly.”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. “She’s recovering from the strain of healing your injuries, my lord.”
“Ah, of course. The poor thing must have exhausted herself.” He runs a hand through his dark curls, the gesture somehow both casual and methodical, his inviting stare growing almost tender. “Such dedication. Such…selflessness. I find myself quite impressed by her abilities.”
The way he says it, with such apparent kindness and admiration, makes it somehow worse than outright leering would have been.
“I should like to visit her once I’m released. Express my gratitude in person.”
My wolf snarls inside me, possessive heat flaring in my chest. “She’s not taking visitors at this time.”
Zane’s smile turns mysterious, almost knowing. “Oh, she’ll meet me, Commander. I’m quite certain of it.”
The conviction in his voice, the way his eyes gleam with certainty, makes my blood run cold. He sounds like a man who knows something I don’t, who’s holding cards he hasn’t revealed yet.
I force myself to maintain my self-control as I bow stiffly. “I’ll take my leave now, my lord. Rest well.”
“Oh, I intend to, Commander.” His inviting stare follows me to the door, that unsettling smile never wavering. “Give her my regards, won’t you?”
I push through the door and into the hallway, my wolf pacing frantically in my mind. Every instinct I have is screaming that something is wrong—not just with Zane’s story about the attack, but with his confidence about seeing Selene.
The way he said it, with such quiet conviction, as if their meeting isn’t a matter of if, but when. As if he knows something that guarantees she will come to him, whether she wants to or not.
My hands clench into fists as I stride down the corridor, my wolf snarling with unease.
I FIND Lucian in Astra’s lab, a small building he had constructed adjacent to the Queen’s private herb garden. As I walk through the carefully tended rows of medicinal plants and rare specimens, I can’t help but marvel at how much has changed over the past several months. The once-cold Crown Prince, my childhood friend who would barely acknowledge any woman—finding them annoying and clingy—built this entire garden to please his mate.
How the mighty have fallen.
When I enter the lab, Lucian is standing behind Astra, his hand resting casually on her shoulder as she sits on her work stool, grinding herbs with a mortar and pestle. Luna, a sleek black cat, is stretched out in the chair that belonged to Lucian’s father, the previous king. Astra and Lucian both look up when I enter.
“Zane’s awake,” I say without preamble.
Lucian straightens. “And?”
“His story’s clean. Says he was drunk, went for a walk, got jumped by three shifters.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Claims he was too intoxicated to fight back properly.”
Lucian studies me curiously. “You don’t believe him.”
“Would you? The man who consolidated power by eliminating his entire family line, taken down by a couple of rogues?” I shake my head. “He was already a general in the army before he took over the position as head of his family. Three shifters couldn’t take him down. Something’s off.”
Astra sets aside the mortar and pestle. “Has Selene woken up yet?”
“Yes, this morning.”
She gives me a smile, but it fades when I don’t return it. “What’s wrong?”
I hesitate, not sure how to explain what I witnessed without revealing that Selene is my fated mate. The complete absence of reaction, the way she looked at me like I was a stranger. “Her behavior was…odd.”
Astra’s eyes narrow, studying my face with that unsettling perception she has always had. “How would you know what her normal behavior looks like, Seth?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “She’s your friend. It’s natural that I’d keep an eye on the Queen’s companions.”
“Right.” She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to see her.” She rises from her stool, kisses Lucian on the cheek, and sweeps past me.
I watch her leave through the door and then look back at the King. “What if it’s a trap?”
“A trap?” Lucian picks up Luna and places her on his shoulder. He gestures for me to follow him as he, too, leaves the lab. “A trap for what?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter in frustration. “But the man creeps me out.”
“He was badly injured, Seth. If he had orchestrated the attack, he wouldn’t have had life-threatening wounds.”
I come to a halt, giving him an incredulous look. “You believe he really was taken down by three rogue shifters?”
Lucian looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes cool. “That’s what you’re here for. Investigate this matter and find out the truth.”
I sigh. “I’ll go back to the scene. Something’s not adding up.”
When we part ways, I head back to the area in the forest where the incident occurred. The scene looks different in the daylight, less mysterious but somehow more troubling. My team is still combing through every inch, but they’re finding nothing useful. No scents, no tracks, no evidence that anyone other than Zane was ever here.
I’m crouched near where Selene found him when something catches my eye: a faint, red residue on some leaves, barely visible unless you’re looking for it.
“Genesis!” I call to one of the witches. “Come look at this.”
He jogs over and squats beside me. “What am I looking at?”
“This red powder. Can you identify it?”
He runs his fingers over the leaves before bringing them to his nose. His brow furrows. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s not natural, that much I can tell. But beyond that…” He shakes his head. “Sorry, Commander.”
I scan the area and spot more traces of the powder scattered around the clearing. “Bottle as much as you can find. Send it to Queen Astra. She might recognize it.”
“Yes, sir.”
I stand and survey the scene again, trying to piece together what happened here. The official story is that Zane was attacked, left for dead, and somehow survived until Selene found him. But nothing about that makes sense.
First, the timing. Zane claims he left the celebration around midnight, but Selene didn’t emerge from the forest until nearly three in the morning. What was he doing out here for three hours?
Second, the result. Why did his attackers leave him alive? If they were trying to send a message, it really isn’t clear what that message might be.
Third, the lack of evidence. If three shifters attack a man, there should be tracks, scents, signs of a struggle. Instead, we have nothing but Zane’s blood and some mysterious, red powder.
I walk the perimeter again, looking for anything my team might have missed. The ground here is soft enough to show tracks, but there are none. Not even Selene’s footprints, which should be here if she really found him like she claims.
“Commander?” One of my soldiers approaches. “We’ve covered every inch of the area. Other than the powder you found, there’s nothing.”
“What about the guest list from last night? Everyone accounted for?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve verified the whereabouts of every single person who attended. Those who left early were escorted by guards and arrived safely at their destinations. No one is unaccounted for.”
That’s what bothers me most. Palace security wasn’t breached. Every guest was monitored. So, who attacked Zane? And why does his story feel like a carefully constructed lie?
My wolf paces restlessly, still agitated from our encounter with Lord Radrick. There’s something predatory about the man that sets me on edge. Especially his behavior in the infirmary—the practiced humility, the way he spoke about Selene with such certitude. Like he knows something the rest of us don’t.
Just thinking about it makes my teeth clench tightly.
The sun is setting by the time I give up on finding anything else here. My team packs up their equipment while I take one last look around the clearing. Then, we all head back to the palace.
THE NEXT DAY, THE HEALERS’ compound buzzes with its usual morning activity—apprentices hurrying between treatment rooms, senior healers moving efficiently from patient to patient, the soft hum of healing magic mixing with quiet conversations about treatments. I scan the familiar chaos, searching for auburn hair and soft blue eyes, but Selene is nowhere to be seen.
“Excuse me,” I call to a passing apprentice. “Where is Selene?”
The young woman looks puzzled. “Selene? She was discharged this morning, Commander.”
My wolf paces restlessly as I approach several healers, asking if they’ve seen her, but each one shakes their head.
“Haven’t seen her since yesterday,” one says.
“Not sure where she’d be,” another adds.
I approach a senior healer who is examining a soldier’s wounded arm. “Excuse me, have you seen Selene today?”
The woman glances up briefly from her patient. “No, not since yesterday, Commander. You’d need to ask the master healer about her work schedule.”
Frustration builds in my chest with each negative response. I don’t understand this compulsion driving me forward, this need to see her that burns constantly. But I can’t seem to stop myself.
Finally, I knock on Master Healer Cordelia’s office door.
“Commander Rowan!” The elderly woman looks up from her ledger with surprise. “What brings you here?”
“I’m looking for Healer Selene. I need to ask her some follow-up questions about the forest incident.”
Cordelia sets down her pen, studying me with concern. “Ah. Well, nobody has seen her this morning, I’m afraid.”
My jaw tightens. “What do you mean, nobody’s seen her?”
“I’ve given that poor girl several days off to recover from such a massive drain of her healing abilities. What she did for Lord Zane nearly killed her.” Cordelia leans back in her chair. “She must be in her quarters, resting. Room forty-seven in the east wing.”
Relief floods through me, though I can’t explain why. “Thank you.”
As I turn to leave, her voice stops me. “Commander? She seemed different when she left the healers’ compound yesterday. Lighter somehow. I’ve never seen her so…relieved about anything.”
Her words stay with me as I make my way toward the residential quarters, my wolf growing more agitated with each step. Why did she look so relieved? What changed between our confrontation in the forest and her time in the infirmary?
“Seth!”
I turn to find my eldest sister Marina approaching, her long, dark hair braided in the elaborate style that marks her as the wife of a high-ranking noble. At thirty-five, she’s the most intimidating of my siblings, with sharp, green eyes that miss nothing.
“What are you doing skulking around the residential wing?” she demands.
“Looking for someone.”
Her eyebrows arch with interest. “Someone? A woman?”
I shrug, not trusting my voice.
Marina grins like a cat that has caught a mouse. “Oh, this is interesting. Who is she?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Of course it isn’t.” She falls into step beside me. “You know, you need to settle down soon, Seth. Mother’s been asking about your marriage prospects, and I keep running out of excuses.”
My wolf snarls at the implication. “I’m not interested in settling down.”
Marina rolls her eyes. “You need to find a mate and have children. You’re running around like a loose cannon, and you’ve built a terrible reputation for yourself. The whispers about your conquests are starting to embarrass the family.”
“Mind your own business, Marina.”
Her palm connects with the back of my head in a sharp smack. “Be respectful when you speak to your elders, little brother.”
I rub my scalp, muttering, “Sorry.”
“Better. Look, I know several respectable noble ladies who would be perfect for you. Lady Catherine of House Meridian has excellent bloodlines and impeccable manners.” She adjusts her sleeves with finality. “I’m setting up a meeting for next week. You’d better be there.”
“Marina, I really don’t—”
“No arguments, Seth.” Her voice brooks no disagreement. “You’re twenty-eight years old. It’s time.”
Before I can protest further, she sweeps away down the corridor, her heels clicking against the stone with decisive authority. I watch her go, knowing that arguing with Marina when she has made up her mind is like trying to stop a charging bull with your bare hands.
I shake my head and continue toward the residential wing, my thoughts shifting back to the real reason I’m here. My wolf grows more restless with each step, that inexplicable need to see Selene burning stronger the closer I get to room forty-seven.
I still don’t understand this compulsion. The mate bond should be satisfied knowing that she is safe and healing. But something about yesterday—her complete indifference to my presence, the way she looked at me like I was nobody—has left me fundamentally off-balance. It goes against everything I know about mate bonds, about the connection that should exist between us whether we want it or not.
I raise my hand to knock on her door, then hesitate. What excuse do I have for being here?
I knock twice and wait.
Silence.
Maybe she’s sleeping. I should leave. But instead, I knock again, harder.
A startled cry comes from inside, followed by a loud crash.
My protective instincts roar to life. I don’t hesitate—I burst through the door, scanning for threats. The main room is empty, but splashing and muffled cursing are coming from the bathroom.
“Selene?” I call out, already moving toward the sound.
Another crash, followed by creative profanity that would make a soldier blush.
I push through the bathroom door and freeze.
Selene is tangled in the shower curtain, clearly having been in the middle of bathing when something went wrong. The curtain is wrapped around her like a cocoon as she struggles to free herself while maintaining modesty. Water drips from her auburn hair, and her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Don’t look!” she shrieks.
The mate bond surges at the sight of her, my wolf practically howling with recognition. Water droplets cling to her bare shoulders, her wet hair falling in dark waves around her face. The clinging fabric outlines curves that make my mouth go dry.
“Seth!” Her voice is breathless with panic and mortification. “What are you doing here?”
I should leave. Turn around, walk away, pretend this never happened. But my feet seem rooted to the tiles.
“I heard you cry out,” I manage, my voice rough. “I thought you were in danger.”
She finally frees one arm, clutching the fabric closer. “Well, I’m not. So, you can go now.”
I wait for the telltale signs—her pulse racing, her scent changing, the tremor in her voice—that would tell me she feels the bond, too. But there’s nothing. Just normal awkwardness at being caught in such a compromising position. Her heart rate is elevated from the fall, not from my presence.
My wolf whines in confusion. How can she be so unaffected?
“Are you hurt?” I ask, taking a step closer.
“No, just tangled.” She tugs at the curtain, but it’s thoroughly wrapped around her. “Can you leave? Please?”
There’s no awareness in her eyes now, no recognition of what should exist between us. Just a woman trying to preserve her dignity while stuck in a ridiculous situation.
“Let me help you,” I hear myself say.
“Absolutely not!” she insists. “I can manage on my own, thank you very much.”
But she can’t. The curtain is twisted in impossible ways, and her struggles are only making it worse.
I reach out slowly. “Hold still.”
The moment my fingers brush the wet fabric, electricity shoots up my arm. The mate bond sings with satisfaction at even this indirect contact. But when I look at her face, searching for any sign that she feels it, too, there’s nothing. Just frustrated embarrassment.
How is this possible? The bond is stronger than ever on my end, but she shows no reaction at all. It’s like I’m the only one who can feel it.
“Don’t touch me!” she snaps, jerking away from me. “Just get out, Seth!”
I freeze, my hand still extended. The sharpness in her voice has cut through me like a blade.
“Get out!” she repeats, her voice rising with panic and anger.
I should turn around and leave. Something about her complete indifference, though, something about the way she’s looking at me like I’m nothing more than an unwelcome intruder, keeps me from moving.
“Seth!” Her voice cracks with desperation. “What part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand?”
When I still don’t budge, her blue eyes flash with fury.
“Why are you just standing there? Why are you invading my space like this?” Her voice trembles with emotion. “I thought you made yourself perfectly clear the other night.”
Heat flares in my chest—anger mixing with confusion and something darker. “What’s going on with you?”
She lets out a bitter laugh, clutching the curtain tighter around herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But the Commander should probably leave my room before someone sees you here.”
The formal way she says “Commander” stuns me into silence.
“After all,” she continues, her voice dripping with venom, “you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself by being caught in the quarters of such a weak woman. What would people think? The great Seth Rowan, slumming it with someone so far beneath him!”
My lips press together. She’s throwing my own words back at me, the cruel things I said in the forest, and I don’t know how to reply.
“Selene—”
“No.” She cuts me off, her eyes blazing. “You don’t get to ‘Selene’ me. You made your position abundantly clear. I’m too weak, too pathetic, not worthy of even being in the same room as you, remember?”
The mate bond is roaring in my chest, demanding I fix this, demanding I claim what’s mine. But she’s looking at me like I’m revolting, like my very presence disgusts her.
“That’s not—” I start, but the words die in my throat because it is what I said. Every cruel word she’s repeating, I hurled at her like weapons.
“Get out of my room, Commander,” she says again, her voice deadly quiet now. “Before you contaminate yourself by breathing the same air as someone so fundamentally less than you.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy and toxic. Her words hang in the air, each one a perfect echo of the cruelty I treated her with in the forest. The mate bond claws at me, desperate and confused, but Selene’s eyes hold nothing but cold disdain.
“Fine,” I bite out, my voice raspy with suppressed emotion.
I turn on my heel and step toward the bathroom door, my wolf howling in protest. At the threshold, I pause, some part of me hoping she’ll call out to me, that she’ll show even the smallest sign that this indifference is merely an act.
But when I glance over my shoulder, she has already turned away from me, struggling with the tangled curtain as if I have ceased to exist entirely.
The main room feels suffocating as I cross it in quick strides. My hand is on the door handle when I hear her voice, so quiet that I almost miss it.
“Close the door behind you.”
Not a request. A dismissal.
I step into the hallway and pull the door shut with more force than necessary. The sound echoes in the empty corridor like a gunshot.
My wolf is frantic now, pacing and whining, unable to understand why our mate rejected us so completely. The bond still burns in my chest, as strong as ever, but it feels one-sided now—binding me to someone who wants nothing to do with me.
I lean against the stone wall, running a hand through my hair. Her indifference shouldn’t bother me. I’ve been trying to push her away for months, telling myself she’s too weak, that she doesn’t belong at my side. But now that she’s looking at me with nothing but contempt, it feels like a knife twisting in my gut.
The hallway stretches empty in both directions, and for the first time in my adult life, I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do next.