Isla's POV
I can't tell Kieran.
The thought repeats in my mind as I pace my chambers, still in the wine-stained dress. My hands shake. My breath comes too fast.
Lord Corvus threatened me. He was outside my door last night. He wants me dead.
And he's the king's most trusted advisor.
Who would Kieran believe? His loyal advisor of twelve years? Or the servant girl he's known for two days?
You're expendable, Corvus's voice echoes. Everyone knows it. Especially His Majesty.
A knock on my door makes me jump.
"Miss?" Eliza's voice. "May I help you change?"
I unlock the door with trembling fingers. Eliza gasps when she sees me.
"Oh, Miss! That horrible woman!" She immediately starts helping me out of the ruined gown. "Everyone's talking about what Princess Seraphina did. How dare she—"
"It's fine," I lie.
"It's not fine! His Majesty looked ready to shift right there in the throne room. I've never seen him so angry."
My heart skips. "He was angry?"
"Furious. The whole court saw it." Eliza pulls a simple nightgown over my head. "But he couldn't do anything. Not without making it worse for you."
I sink onto the bed. "I don't belong here, Eliza. Everyone knows it. Even Kieran—even His Majesty thinks I'm just a duty."
"I don't think that's true, Miss."
"He told me himself. This morning. 'Don't expect romance. Don't expect love.' His exact words."
Eliza's expression softens. "Men say a lot of things they don't mean. Especially men who are scared."
"The Wolf King isn't scared of anything."
"Maybe not of enemies. But of feelings?" She smiles sadly. "That's different."
Before I can respond, another knock sounds.
Eliza opens the door. A guard stands there holding a large wooden box.
"Delivery for Lady Isla," he says gruffly.
My stomach tightens. Another threat? Another warning?
Eliza takes the box and sets it on my bed. The guard leaves without another word.
"Should I open it?" she asks nervously.
I nod, gripping the dagger I've kept hidden under my pillow.
Eliza lifts the lid and gasps.
Inside are three gowns. Not just any gowns—these are magnificent. Deep sapphire blue. Rich burgundy. Soft cream with silver embroidery. Each one more beautiful than anything I've ever seen.
"Oh, Miss," Eliza breathes. "These are stunning."
I reach out with shaking hands, touching the sapphire silk. It's impossibly soft, smooth as water. The stitching is perfect, intricate. These aren't just expensive.
They're made with care.
"There's no note," Eliza says, searching the box. "But who else would send these?"
My heart pounds. "His Majesty?"
"Who else has access to the royal seamstresses? And look—" She points to the embroidery on the cream gown. Silver wolves running through moonlight. "That's the royal crest combined with moon symbols. Only someone with the king's authority could commission this."
I lift the sapphire gown, holding it up. It's exactly my size. Perfectly tailored.
He didn't just order new gowns to replace the ruined one.
He ordered gowns specifically for me.
"Why would he do this?" I whisper.
"Because he cares, Miss. Even if he won't admit it."
But that makes no sense. This morning he told me not to expect anything from him. That this was just duty. That I was a political arrangement.
Yet he sent me these.
"Try one on!" Eliza says excitedly.
"Now?"
"Why not? You deserve something beautiful after today."
She helps me into the sapphire gown. It fits perfectly, hugging my waist and flowing elegantly to the floor. The neckline frames the Moon's Kiss mark, making it look like art instead of a brand.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and freeze.
That can't be me.
The girl staring back looks... regal. Beautiful. Like someone who could actually be a queen.
"You're stunning, Miss," Eliza says softly.
A third knock interrupts us.
Eliza opens the door—and freezes.
"Your Majesty!" She drops into a curtsy.
My heart stops.
Kieran stands in the doorway, still in his court clothes. His silver eyes lock onto me, and something flashes in them.
"I—Your Majesty," I stammer, trying to curtsy in the new gown. "I didn't expect—"
"I wanted to check on you," he says. His voice is rough, uncertain. "After court."
He steps inside, and Eliza quietly slips out, closing the door behind her.
We're alone.
Kieran looks at me, and I see his jaw clench. "The gown suits you."
Heat rises in my cheeks. "Thank you for sending them. You didn't have to—"
"Yes, I did." He cuts me off. "Seraphina humiliated you in front of the entire court. You handled it with dignity, but you shouldn't have to wear her damage."
His words are stiff, formal. But there's something underneath. Something he's not saying.
"I should have defended you," he continues. "I should have said something. Done something."
"You couldn't. I understand." I take a step closer. "If you'd punished her, it would have made me look weak."
"You're not weak." The words come out fierce. "You stood there with wine soaking your dress and faced them all down. That took more courage than most warriors have."
My breath catches. Is he... complimenting me?
"I wanted to rip her apart," he admits quietly. "My wolf was screaming at me to shift. To protect you. To make them all pay for how they treated you."
"But you didn't."
"Because that would have made things worse for you." His hands clench into fists. "Being near you makes me want to do things that aren't... strategic. Aren't smart."
My heart races. "What kind of things?"
He looks at me, and the intensity in his gaze steals my breath.
"Dangerous things," he says softly. "Things a king shouldn't want with someone he barely knows."
The air between us feels electric. Charged.
He takes a step closer. Then another.
"This morning, I told you not to expect romance," he says. "I meant it. I'm not... I'm not good at this. At feelings. I've spent twelve years making sure I don't feel anything."
"Then why are you here?" My voice comes out barely a whisper.
"Because I can't stay away." The admission sounds like it's being torn from him. "Because my wolf goes insane when you're in danger. Because I keep thinking about your eyes and your courage and the way you refused to run even when you were terrified."
He's so close now I can smell pine and smoke.
"I don't know how to do this," he continues. "How to be a king and a mate. How to protect you without making you look weak. How to want you when wanting anything has only ever led to pain."
"Kieran—" His name slips out without the title, and his eyes flash.
"Say it again," he demands roughly.
"Kieran."
He closes the distance between us, his hand coming up to cup my face. His thumb traces my cheekbone, gentle despite the calluses.
"You make me feel things I swore I'd never feel again," he whispers. "It terrifies me."
"I'm terrified too," I admit. "Of everything. Of you. Of this bond. Of dying before I figure out who I really am."
His other hand finds my waist. "No one's going to kill you. I won't allow it."
"You can't stop everything."
"Watch me." There's steel in his voice. A promise.
He leans closer, his forehead almost touching mine. My heart pounds so hard I'm sure he can hear it.
"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs. "Shouldn't want you."
"But you do?"
"Yes." The word is rough. Raw. "Goddess help me, I do."
He's going to kiss me. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the tension between us.
Then he freezes.
His whole body goes rigid. His eyes snap toward the window.
"Get away from the glass," he orders, shoving me behind him.
"What—"
The window explodes inward.
Glass shatters everywhere. A dark shape crashes through—a wolf, massive and snarling.
But it's not alone.
Three more wolves pour through the broken window, their eyes glowing red with bloodlust.
Rogues.
Inside the palace.
Inside my chambers.
Kieran shifts instantly, his clothes tearing as his wolf emerges. He throws himself between me and the attackers with a roar that shakes the walls.
I stumble backward, my hand closing around the dagger under my pillow.
One of the rogues breaks past Kieran, lunging straight at me.
I scream and raise the dagger.
The rogue's jaws snap inches from my throat.
Then everything goes white.
Power explodes from my body—pure silver light that throws the rogue backward. It slams into the wall hard enough to crack stone.
I stare at my hands in shock.
They're glowing. Silver light pulses under my skin, flowing through my veins like liquid moonlight.
The Moon's Kiss on my neck burns brighter than ever.
And for the first time in my life, I feel my wolf.
Not weak. Not trapped.
Awake.