Lilian's POV
The fortress was a maze. Endless ancient stone corridors, heavy wooden doors, and iron sconces cast flickering shadows across the walls. It should have felt oppressive, like a trap. And maybe it did. But there was something else, too, something under this place's surface—something wild—something the very bones of Blackstone; I still remembered what it was to fight.
My kind of place.
I moved through the halls with silent steps, every instinct on high alert. The castle bustled with warriors and staff, the undercurrent of tension so thick it clung to my skin. The pack knew. They smelled it on me. They knew exactly what I was: a rogue, an outsider, and something worse, the mate of their king, Cash. Their suspicious glances scraped against me like sandpaper, leaving my nerves raw and exposed.
Good. Let them watch. Let them hate. I could take it. I had survived worse, the scars on my body a testament to the battles I've fought and the enemies I've faced.
I pulled Cash's scent-saturated jacket tighter around me, trying not to breathe too deeply and not notice how it warmed the chill seeping into my bones. It didn't help that it felt like he was there whenever I turned a corner, lurking, watching, waiting like some inevitable storm I couldn't outrun.
I needed space. I needed air. I needed
"Lost?"
His voice's deep, amused rumble rolled over me before I even saw him.
I spun around, ready to snap.
And collided straight into a wall of muscle.
Cash. Of course. Because the gods clearly had a twisted sense of humor.
His hands shot out instinctively, gripping my arms to steady me. Fingers warm, strong, calloused. My pulse jumped hard against my throat.
So close. Too close.
His scent enveloped me—smoke, pine, leather, and a wolf dragging a low, traitorous sound from my chest. I yanked back like I'd been scalded.
He let me go immediately, hands falling to his sides, but the heat of his touch lingered like a brand.
For one raw, breathless second, we just stared at each other. His blue eyes burned into me, hotter than a thousand suns, colder than a blizzard. I hated the way my stomach flipped. I hated the way my wolf whimpered. I hated
"I'm fine," I bit out, shoving past him.
He matched my pace easily, falling into step beside me like a shadow I couldn't shake. "Where are you going?" he asked, voice rough with some emotion I didn't dare name.
"Anywhere you're not," I muttered.
He chuckled low and dangerously. It should have made me angry, but instead, it created a low and hot coil in my belly.
Damn it.
He led me through another series of hallways, deeper into the heart of Blackstone, his presence a constant weight at my side. Finally, he stopped in front of a heavy door carved with the symbol of the moon cresting a wolf's back.
The council chamber.
I could hear voices on the other side, low, angry, and impatient.
"They're waiting," Cash said, voice unreadable.
"For me?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
"For us."
Us. The word wrapped around my ribs like barbed wire.
I squared my shoulders. "I don't need you to hold my hand."
He smirked slowly and was devastated. "No," he said, eyes raking over me, "but you might need me to keep you from tearing someone's throat out."
"Don't tempt me."
He stepped closer, close enough that the heat of his body rolled over me like a wave. "Careful, little wolf," he murmured, voice a dark caress. "You're playing with fire."
My throat went dry, not because I was afraid but because a very stupid part of me wanted to lean into the heat instead of backing away.
I hated that part. I shoved it down hard.
"Better than freezing to death," I shot back.
Something flickered in his eyes. Approval? Amusement? Hunger? Before he pushed the door open and nodded for me to go ahead.
Coward.
I stepped into the room without looking back.
The council chamber was made of dark wood and heavy stone, with torches flickering in sconces, casting dancing shadows across the long table in the center. Six men and women sat around it, all alphas, betas, or high-ranking wolves, their eyes sharpening the second they saw me.
Elizabeth was there, too. Of course, she was. Sitting prim and perfect at the far end of the table, platinum hair gleaming, lips curved in a polite little smile that didn't reach her eyes. She looked like every wealthy, spoiled princess who had ever sneered at me.
My wolf snarled low and deep inside me.
Cash moved to stand at my side, a silent mountain of muscle and power. Elizabeth's smile tightened. Cash's presence burned against me, a constant reminder that I didn't belong here.
Yet here I was. Alive. Standing. Unbroken.
"King Cash," one of the councilmen said, clearing his throat. "We were expecting to discuss your Luna matter tonight."
Cash nodded once, sharp and controlled. "Plans have changed," he said simply.
A ripple of unease spread through the room. Elizabeth's jaw twitched, but she smoothed her expression almost instantly, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
"Changed?" the councilman repeated.
Cash's hand brushed against mine, not grabbing, not forcing, just barely touching. It was an accident. Maybe. But the heat of it seared through me like a brand. My wolf stilled. My heart kicked hard against my ribs.
I should have jerked away. Should have glared. Should have
Instead, I stayed still, every muscle locked tight. His fingers curled slightly, the faintest brush of his knuckles against my skin. An offer. Not a command. Not a chain. A choice.
Cash watched her, his face an impassive mask, but beneath the surface, a storm raged. He knew what he was asking of her, what he was throwing her into. He saw the fire in her eyes, the defiance that burned brighter than any torch in Blackstone. He knew she was strong enough to handle it, but that didn't mean he wasn't terrified. He had waited lifetimes for his mate and found her in the most unlikely of places, a rogue, a fighter, a woman who challenged him at every turn. He would protect her with his life, but he would never cage her.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. The room waited, tension thick enough to choke on.
Cash's voice dropped, low and unshakable. "I have found my true mate," he said.
Dead silence. Elizabeth's face went white. The council erupted questions, accusations, and outrage.
But I didn't hear any of it.
Because Cash was still standing there, inches from me, his hand barely brushing mine, his scent drowning my senses. He could have lied. Could have claimed someone more easily. Someone safer. Instead, he tied himself to me, the rogue, the outcast for better or worse.
My heart warred with my pride. My wolf howled in triumph.
I finally yanked my hand away, lifting my chin. "I'm not your possession," I snapped under my breath.
Cash's eyes darkened, but he nodded once, almost respectfully. "Never," he said, so low I barely heard it.
But I did. God help me, I did. And a tiny, traitorous part of me believed him.
The council tried to recover, scrambling to rearrange their plans and alliances. Elizabeth sat frozen, rage simmering just under the surface of her perfect facade.
I smiled at her slow, sharp, and wicked.
War had been declared tonight not just between packs, not just between kingdoms, but between me and her. And if she thought she could beat me, she was about to learn exactly what kind of monster she had just unleashed.