Seraphina stood frozen in the torch-lit hall, her breath caught somewhere between rage and disbelief.
He was the Alpha.
He was the beast of the Northern Ridge.
He was… the very man she had sworn to destroy.
Fenris sat on the dark throne, his cloak draped over one shoulder, his piercing silver eyes locked onto hers like chains. Not a muscle moved on his face, but the heat in his gaze scorched her more than a battlefield ever could.
"You look surprised, Princess," he said, his voice deep and low, like thunder grumbling over a mountain.
"You lied to me," she breathed, her hands curling into fists. "You said you were a simple warrior. A shadow in the woods. You—"
"I never said I wasn't a king," he cut her off. "You never asked."
Seraphina took a step forward, her jaw clenched. "You manipulated me. You used me!"
"Did I?" He rose from the throne with a predator's grace, every step he took toward her echoing against the stone walls. "Or did you fall into the lie because you wanted to escape your own truth?"
She flinched, not because his words hurt—but because they were true. For a moment, she had wanted to believe in something simple. Something human. Something without blood ties or politics or prophecies. She had let herself believe that Fenris, the man who saved her in the forest, the man who kissed her under the moonlight, was something less than the enemy.
But now she knew better.
"I should kill you," she whispered, a dagger sliding from her sleeve into her hand.
His smirk was cold, dangerous. "Try."
Before she could blink, he had closed the distance between them, gripping her wrist with enough force to send the blade clattering to the ground. Her heart pounded as he yanked her closer, their bodies nearly touching, his scent—wild and earthy—filling her senses.
"You don't want to kill me," he said huskily, his breath brushing her lips. "You want to know why I didn't kill you that night."
"I should've known you were the Alpha," she hissed, struggling in his hold. "The way you moved. The way the wolves obeyed—"
"But you didn't," he said, tilting his head. "Because you saw the man, not the monster."
Her throat tightened. His grip loosened, fingers sliding down her arm, lingering too long on her skin. Heat sparked at every point of contact, confusing her, betraying her.
"I don't trust you," she murmured, eyes defiant.
"Good," he replied, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Trust is earned… and you're not easy to win."
She didn't move as he stepped back, releasing her completely. She hated that part of her missed his touch. Hated that part of her chest ached when he turned away.
"You should get some rest, Seraphina," he said, his tone cool once more. "We ride for the Crimson Peaks at dawn. And after that…"
"What?" she asked, heart racing.
He looked over his shoulder, and for a fleeting second, something vulnerable passed through his eyes.
"…after that, everything changes."