Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 51

Adelaide

Something flickered in Lycanthar's golden eyes as he leaned closer, and for one breathless moment, I thought I saw recognition there—not of memory, but of something deeper, more primal. His hand rose slowly toward my face, fingers almost trembling as they approached my cheek.

"This feeling..." he whispered, his voice carrying a tremor I'd rarely heard from him, "so familiar, yet so strange."

My heart hammered against my ribs as his fingertips nearly brushed my skin. The air between us seemed to shimmer with possibility, heavy with the weight of what we had shared, what we might share again. But just as his touch would have met my flesh, he jerked back as if burned, his expression snapping closed like a fortress gate.

The distance he put between us felt like a physical blow. His features hardened, transforming from vulnerable confusion back into the cold mask of royalty. When he spoke again, his voice carried the full weight of his royal authority.

"Please forgive my lapse," he said, each word precisely measured. "As your king, I should not be governed by instinct." He turned away, his hands gripping the edge of his desk with white-knuckled intensity, as if wrestling with some internal force. "You are a Moon Bride. Your scent, your presence—it affects any werewolf. But this is not genuine emotion, merely... biological response."

The clinical coldness in his voice made me flinch. Biological response. As if what we had shared was nothing more than animal rutting, devoid of meaning or connection.

But he wasn't finished destroying me. When he turned back to face me, his golden eyes had grown distant, almost cruel in their detachment.

"Furthermore," he continued, each word falling like a stone into still water, "you are human. Three hundred years ago, it was your people's betrayal that led to the deaths of countless members of my race. I can feel gratitude for your assistance, but do not expect more than that." His gaze met mine directly, unflinching and final. "A Wolf King cannot love a human."

Each syllable pierced my heart like a blade. I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively rising to my chest as if I could somehow hold myself together against the pain. Though I had feared this possibility, hearing the words spoken aloud with such finality was agony beyond anything I had imagined.

My vision blurred with unshed tears, but I refused to let them fall in front of him. I lowered my head, not wanting him to see the devastation written across my face. "I... I understand, Your Majesty."

The silence that followed stretched between us like a chasm, cold and vast as winter itself. The crackling of the fire seemed unnaturally loud in the stillness, punctuating the growing distance between us. Finally, I drew in a shaking breath and forced myself to lift my head, summoning what remained of my courage.

"Since you mentioned a reward," I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to steady it, "I do have one request. I want to be your personal maid."

Lycanthar studied me for a long moment, his golden gaze searching my face as if seeking some hidden truth. I could see the war playing out behind his eyes—duty warring against instinct, logic battling against something deeper.

Finally, he gave a slow nod. "You are more persistent than I expected. Fine, I will allow you to remain. But do not hope for too much, Adelaide." His voice carried a note of warning, tinged with something that might have been regret. "Some things cannot be changed, even by time itself."

After leaving the Wolf King's chambers, I pressed my back against the cold stone wall of the corridor and finally allowed the tears to fall. They came silently, streaming down my cheeks as moonlight filtered through the high windows, casting silver patterns across my pale face.

But beneath the grief, something stronger began to stir. I wiped away my tears and tilted my face toward the window, gazing up at the full moon that bathed the keep in silver light.

"I won't give up," I whispered to the Moon Goddess, my voice growing firmer with each word. "He may have forgotten our past, but I will create new memories. I will make him fall in love with me again, not because of the Moon Bride's allure, but because I am me—Adelaide."

Garrick

The crimson flames in the hearth of Nightfang Fortress cast dancing shadows across my scarred back as I stood before the fire, still feeling the sting of every lash that had fallen across my flesh earlier today. With a snarl of fury, I hurled the cup against the stone wall. Glass shattered, wine spraying like drops of blood across the gray stones.

"Three centuries of imprisonment and his arrogance remains unbroken!" I roared to the empty chamber, my voice echoing off the walls. But even as I vented my rage about Lycanthar's insufferable pride, another target for my hatred rose in my mind. "All because of that Moon Bride—that pathetic human wench! She destroyed every plan I had carefully laid!"

A bitter laugh escaped my throat as I began to pace, my footsteps heavy with fury. "Humans," I spat, the word tasting like poison. "Always so weak, yet so cunning in their manipulations."

In the corner of the room, a young maid cowered against the wall, trying desperately to make herself invisible. But my predatory gaze found her anyway, and I saw the exact outlet I needed for my frustration. I approached her slowly, savoring the terror that bloomed in her wide eyes.

"Tonight," I said, my voice dropping to a menacing whisper as I gripped her chin, "you will help me forget the pain of this humiliation."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she knew better than to resist. The wild hunger in my gaze broke free of all restraint as I smiled with cruel satisfaction. "Scream for me," I commanded, my voice rough with dark anticipation. "Cry out like all human women do so well..."

Hours later, guards silently carried away what remained of another broken plaything. I stood by the window in my robe, gazing out over the fortress grounds, but even this release had done nothing to cool the molten fury churning within me. If anything, the violence had only fed the flames higher.

A soft knock interrupted my brooding. A servant entered cautiously, his eyes carefully avoiding the bloodstains on the floor.

"Master," he said carefully, "do you have any further orders?"

I turned from the window, my eyes gleaming with golden light. "When does Morgana return? Has she brought what I requested?"

The servant bowed slightly. "According to the latest reports, Lady Morgana has crossed the border and is en route home. She sent word through a messenger that the mission has been completed, but for security reasons, the details can only be reported in person."

"How much longer must I wait?" I snarled, my claws extending to scrape against the stone windowsill, leaving deep gouges in the hard surface. "I'm tired of waiting to make that old wolf pay!"

"By her travel schedule, she should reach Nightfang Fortress by tomorrow evening at the latest," the servant replied, taking a cautious step backward.

I let out a low growl and smashed a nearby vase with my fist. "Always waiting! Always more delays!" I stalked around the room like a caged beast, my eyes burning with calculation and hatred. "Lycanthar thinks he has already won. He believes he can control everything just as he did three centuries ago..." I stopped pacing, a cold smile spreading across my face. "But this time, the ending will be very different. Very different indeed."