He disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed softly.
I settled back onto the pillows and pulled the covers over myself this time. The tea worked wonders as the headache faded to nothing. My body felt warm and relaxed in a way it hadn’t since before the portal.
My eyes grew heavy again but my mind kept churning.
Mal kneeling beside the bed with teary eyes. The way he’d held me through the nightmare without asking for anything in return. The bond between us pulsing with his love even through my anger. How he’d literally fought for his throne today with me watching. How he’d protected me from the guard without hesitation.
But also that woman. Amaia. Her announcement about a wedding that Mal swore didn’t exist.
Was he telling the truth? Through the bond I didn’t feel deception, just desperation and guilt and love that felt genuine.
But could I trust that? Could I trust him after he’d dragged me here against my will?
I didn’t know.
Sleep pulled at me harder. I let it take me. Let the darkness swallow the questions and the pain and the confusion.
Because right now, I was too tired to figure out any of it.
20
— • —
Wen
A week in Lytopia and I was starting to get the hang of things.
Which was not the same as saying I liked it here. Or that I’d forgiven Mal for kidnapping me. Or that I wasn’t constantly plotting ways to strangle him with my bare hands.
But I’d figured out the basics. The castle layout. The meal times. Which nobles were allies and which ones looked at me with thinly veiled contempt. How to avoid getting lost in the endless stone corridors that all looked exactly the same.
By now, everyone knew there was a human amongst them. The secret had lasted approximately twelve hours before the gossip spread through the castle faster than wildfire. But no one knew why I was here. Mal and Aurion had crafted a careful story: I’d come through the portal, Mal had met me in the human realm, and now I was just some random girl he’d brought back.
No mention of mates. No mention of bonds. No mention of the fact that my neck still had his claiming mark hidden under high-collared dresses.
We’d kept that secret locked down tight. Because apparently, my scent had cleared enough over the past week that I no longer reeked of “mated wolf king” to anyone who got close. The bond was there, pulsing between us constantly, but externally there was no evidence we were anything more than acquaintances.
They’d decided it was safer that way. With Andreas still stirring up trouble and the nobles watching Mal’s every move, admitting he’d bonded with a human would give his enemies ammunition. Proof that he’d gone soft. Proof that he cared more about his mate than his duties.
So we pretended. We lied. We kept our distance in public.
And I pretended to be his servant.
His fucking servant.
The official story was that I helped out around his chambers to justify why I came and went so often from the royal wing. Because apparently, a random human girl hanging around the king’s rooms would be suspicious, but a random human girl who cleaned his rooms and fetched his meals? Totally normal.
I hated it. Hated the charade. Hated bowing my head when nobles passed. Hated the way people dismissed me as beneath their notice.
But most of all, I hated having to turn a blind eye every time that woman made a move on Mal.
Amaia.
She’d been fluttering around him constantly since that first day. Touching his arm. Laughing too loudly at things that weren’t funny. Sitting too close at meals. Making it abundantly clear to everyone in the castle that she considered herself his future queen.
And I had to stand there and watch. Had to pretend I didn’t care. Had to swallow my rage and jealousy and the urge to physically remove her perfectly manicured hands from my mate.
I was so tired. Exhausted from the constant act. From biting my tongue. From pretending Mal and I were nothing to each other when the bond between us screamed otherwise.
