Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 84

Draven

Morning light sliced through the heavy curtains like a blade, piercing my skull with ruthless precision. I awakened slowly, my head pounding with the merciless rhythm of a war drum. The whiskey I had consumed last night felt like molten metal coursing through my veins, a leaden weight pressing down on my brain.

The warmth beside me drew my attention, and I turned my head carefully, wincing at the movement. Thalia's naked back faced me, her golden hair spread across the pillow like spun silk. Her pale skin bore the evidence of our desperate passion—red marks from my teeth, bruises from my fingers, scratches from our frantic coupling.

"Moon Goddess," I whispered, the words scraping my raw throat. Love and anguish warred within me, each emotion sharp enough to draw blood.

I slowly sat up, each movement made with utmost care, afraid of waking her. Then I picked up the clothes scattered messily on the floor, hastily putting them on.

The soft clink of my belt buckle stirred Thalia from sleep. She turned slowly, her blue eyes opening like morning flowers. The bedsheet slipped from her shoulder, revealing more of the marks I had left on her skin. Her gaze found mine, and I saw exhaustion there, but also an unguarded tenderness that made my heart clench.

"Where are you going?" Her voice was husky with sleep, but beneath the simple question lay a wealth of unspoken fears.

I couldn't meet those knowing eyes, couldn't let her see the war raging in my soul. "Today is the day the Wolf King returns," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady, as if discussing the weather rather than the potential destruction of everything between us. "There's much to prepare."

I finished buttoning my shirt, my fingers fumbling with the final clasp. Still, I couldn't turn around. The weight of her gaze on my back felt like judgment itself.

"Draven..." Thalia's voice carried a tremor that cut through me like a silver blade. "About last night... about us..."

"Don't." The word came out harsher than I intended, and I finally turned to face her. The pain in my eyes must have been visible because her expression crumbled. "Now isn't the time for that conversation."

I moved to the bed, unable to resist touching her face one last time. My fingers traced the dark circles under her eyes, the evidence of our shared torment. "Your injuries aren't fully healed yet. Stay in this room today and rest. I'll have food sent to you."

Thalia's hand caught mine, her grip desperate. "Have you decided? About... telling them?"

Her question hung in the air like a sword suspended by a thread. I looked into those blue depths that had first captured my heart, seeing my own anguish reflected there. The silence stretched between us, filled with all the words we couldn't say.

Finally, I leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss that felt like benediction and farewell combined. "I don't know, Thalia. I truly don't know." My voice broke on her name. "But whatever happens, remember what I told you—my heart will always belong to you, even if my loyalty must be divided."

I forced myself to release her hand, each finger peeling away like tearing flesh. Walking to the door required every ounce of willpower I possessed. At the threshold, I turned back one final time. Thalia sat amid the tumbled bedsheets, pale as winter moonlight, her face a portrait of sorrow that would haunt my dreams.

"Lock the door," I commanded, my voice rough with emotion. "Don't let anyone enter."

I closed the door firmly behind me, leaving her alone with the echoes of our desperate love and the uncertain future that awaited us both.

---

Adelaide

The massive stone gates of Lycandor Keep gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, their ancient carved wolves seeming to watch our approach with predatory eyes. Hundreds of werewolf warriors stood in formation, their banners snapping smartly in the crisp breeze. The sight should have been intimidating, but after everything we had endured together, I felt only a bittersweet sense of homecoming.

"Ready?" Lycanthar asked quietly beside me, his golden eyes warm with reassuring affection. I nodded, feeling the brief, comforting touch of his fingers against mine. "Don't be afraid. You belong here now."

Draven stood at the forefront of the welcoming party, positioned at the top of the stone steps with Garrick and several other werewolf nobles flanking him. My immediate concern was Draven's appearance—his face was ashen, dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually impeccable bearing showed signs of strain. He looked like a man who had wrestled with demons all night and lost. In stark contrast, Garrick stood resplendent in crimson armor, his perpetual smile gleaming with satisfaction.

Lycanthar dismounted with fluid grace, his royal presence immediately commanding the attention of every werewolf present. As one, the assembled warriors dropped to one knee, their voices rising in unison: "Welcome home, Wolf King!"

Draven stepped forward, his voice steady despite his haggard appearance. "Your Majesty, it brings us great relief to see you safely returned. The borders remain secure, and your court has awaited your return with eager anticipation."

Lycanthar inclined his head respectfully. "You have my gratitude, old friend. I understand the plague has been completely eradicated—a feat made possible by your leadership and Thalia's spellwork."

I watched Draven's body language carefully and caught the almost imperceptible stiffening of his shoulders when Thalia's name was mentioned. The change was subtle but unmistakable to a Moon Bride familiar with the behavior of werewolves. He recovered quickly, his training as a military commander serving him well.

"Indeed, Your Majesty. Her contribution was... invaluable," Draven replied, but there was something hollow in his tone that made my stomach clench with unease.

Garrick stepped forward with a fluid bow, speaking in a tone as smooth as poisoned honey. "Great Wolf King, your return fills all our hearts with boundless joy. We've heard tales of your extraordinary experiences at Ember Peak?" His gaze slid briefly to me, making my skin crawl with its calculating intensity.

Lycanthar's smile turned cold as winter steel. "Yes, Garrick. We'll discuss everything in detail during the council session. For now, I wish to wash away the dust of travel and don more suitable attire for court." He addressed the assembled nobles with regal authority. "We'll convene in the royal hall in one hour. There are many matters requiring our attention."

The nobles bowed once more as Lycanthar offered me his arm, leading me toward the castle's imposing entrance. I deliberately slowed my pace, allowing myself to fall back near Draven. When I was close enough, I spoke quietly, my voice laced with genuine concern.

"Lord Draven, I notice Thalia didn't come to greet us. Is she well?"

Draven's eyes met mine briefly, and I saw something flash across his features—pain, anger, perhaps even fear. He looked away quickly, his jaw tightening. "She's... indisposed. She requires rest." His voice was clipped, almost hostile—a dramatic departure from his usual courteous demeanor toward me. "If you'll excuse me, I have duties to attend to."

Without another word, he strode away, his military bearing rigid with controlled emotion. I stood frozen in the courtyard, watching his retreating figure with growing alarm. The change in Draven's attitude was more than concerning—it was ominous. Something had happened, something significant enough to shatter his composure and poison his usual kindness toward me.

"My dear Moon Bride," Garrick's syrupy voice made me turn, "would you like me to arrange an escort to your chambers?"

I forced a smile, though my mind raced with dark possibilities. "Thank you, Lord Garrick, but I believe His Majesty has already made arrangements." I quickened my pace to catch up with Lycanthar, but the sense of foreboding followed me like a shadow.

What had transpired in our absence? Why was Draven so cold, so clearly distressed? And most importantly, was Thalia truly safe, or was she in danger I couldn't yet comprehend? The questions swirled through my mind as we entered the castle, each unanswered concern adding to the weight of dread settling in my chest.