The stairway opened into a cavernous hall lit by thousands of suspended lanterns. The ceiling arched so high it disappeared into shadow. Wolves carved from obsidian lined the walls, snarling eternally.
But what made Ysolde freeze were the eyes.
Dozens of them.
Watching from balconies. From pillars. From the edges of the hall.
Men. Women. All dressed in dark furs, silver armor, or bone ornaments. Their irises glowed golden, red, or silver—never human.
Whispers slithered through the hall.
"A human?"
"She reeks of mortality."
"Has the King lost sense?"
Kael's grip tightened on her wrist, a silent command: stay behind me.
A tall she-wolf stepped forward, silver hair braided down her back, eyes ice-blue.
"Your Majesty," she said coolly. "You return wounded… with this?"
Her gaze swept over Ysolde like she was dirt underfoot.
Ysolde swallowed. Kael's growl vibrated through the floor.
"You question my judgment, Lyssandra?"
"I question the stench beside you." She stepped closer. "Humans do not belong in the Court. The Council will demand her execution."
Kael moved before anyone could blink.
His hand wrapped around Lyssandra's throat, lifting her onto her toes.
His voice dropped to something lethal.
"She is under the King's Vow. Touch her, and I will rip your heart out."
The hall fell silent.
Lyssandra's eyes widened—not with fear, but with outrage.
"You would invoke the Vow… for her?"
"Swear your obedience," Kael said softly, dangerously.
Lyssandra bared her teeth, but nodded.
He released her. She staggered back, hatred burning like frostbite.
Kael turned sharply. "Come."
Ysolde followed, heat prickling beneath her skin as every pair of eyes tracked her like prey.
Whispers chased her steps:
"The last human here died screaming."
"Maybe he's cursed again."
"No—he's hiding something."
The corridor narrowed until they reached a towering set of blackstone doors.
Kael pushed them open—revealing his chambers.
It wasn't a room.
It was a throne carved from ancient bone.
A bed of black furs.
Weapons lining the walls.
Windows carved into the mountain, showing a storm raging outside.
Kael released her wrist at last.
Ysolde stepped back, breath shaking. "You should explain what's happening."
He faced her, chest still streaked with blood, eyes burning softly gold.
"You saved me," he said. "And when a king owes a life-debt, the oath binds deeper than magic."
"I didn't mean to bind anything," she whispered.
"But you did," he answered. "And now every wolf in my kingdom will try to kill you… to break me."
Her blood ran cold.
"What do you want from me?"
Kael stepped closer, stopping right in front of her.
"I want to know," he murmured, "what you are… that my curse listens to your touch."
Lightning struck the mountain.
And for the first time, Ysolde realized the truth:
The King wasn't just dangerous to his enemies.
He was dangerous to her.