Chapter 2

Keira’s pov

My eyes widened all of a sudden, the horror of the word breaching past my trauma.

No, no, no! I screamed in my head.

He reached out, his long, calloused fingers wrapping around my upper arm. His grip was an iron band, hot enough to burn through the thick wool of my sleeve. He didn't yank me, but the strength behind his hold made it impossible to pull away.

"Your Majesty, please!" an old lord in rich robes called out from the top of the grand stairs, flanked by two towering elite guards. "He's just a human captive! A boy from the border sweep!"

Lucian's head snapped toward the lord, a low growl vibrating deep in his chest. His fangs flashed in the light, his eyes bleeding gold for a split second before returning to its usual dark.

"Mine," Lucian growled again, his grip tightening on my arm.

My pulse hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. He thinks I'm a boy. He doesn't know.

If he dragged me into his private chambers, if his guards stripped me down for an inspection or a bath, my disguise would crumble. The tight cloth binding my chest wouldn't survive a single close look.

"My Lord," I choked out, forcing my voice into the lowest, raspiest pitch I could manage. I kept my eyes fixed on his broad chest, refusing to meet his dangerous gaze. "I'm... I'm just a slave. A miner's son from Oakhaven."

Lucian leaned down, his face burying into the crook of my neck, right where my collar pulled open. He took a long, deep breath against my bare skin.

A violent shiver ran down my spine. His stubble grazed my collarbone, sending a strange, terrifying jolt straight through my stomach.

"Liar," he murmured against my throat. His hot breath fanned over my pulse point. "I know your scent."

Before I could process his words, Lucian swept his other arm around my waist, effortlessly hoisting me up against his chest like I weighed nothing at all.

"Wait! Let me go!" I shouted, instinctively placing my hands against his massive shoulders to push him away. His muscles felt like solid rock beneath his shirt.

"Secure the perimeter!" the old lord shouted from the stairs, his voice sharp with command. "Lord Kaelen, Lord Cassian, get down here! His Majesty has taken a captive!"

Lucian paid them no mind. He turned on his heel and strode up the grand staircase, carrying me tucked against his side. Every step he took was heavy, deliberate, and entirely unbothered by my kicking.

"Put me down!" I demanded, my hands clawing at his clothes. "I can walk! Put me down!"

His jaw tightened, but he didn't slow his pace. He carried me past the iron doors, stepping into the grand obsidian hallway of the inner palace. The doors slammed shut behind us with a thunderous boom, cutting off the noise of the courtyard.

Two tall, strikingly handsome males stepped out from a side corridor, their white silk robes trailing behind them.

One of them bore a jagged scar running down his cheek, his gray-yellow eyes sharp and menacing. The other male had softer features, his expression filled with shock as he stared at us.

"Lucian?" the scarred male, Lord Kaelen asked, stopping five paces away. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "What are you doing with a border slave?"

"He went straight for him, Kaelen," the softer-looking one, Lord Cassian, whispered, his eyes wide. "He didn't attack. The beast... it calmed down."

"He's a male," Kaelen snapped, his voice cold and dismissive. "A scrawny human boy. This is absurd. Lucian, put the captive down before your beast snaps again."

Lucian let out a menacing growl that echoed off the high marble ceiling. He pulled me tighter against his chest, his knuckles turning white against my waist.

"Mine," Lucian snarled, pinning Kaelen with a glare so lethal the scarred lord actually took a step back.

"Lucian, listen to reason," Cassian said gently, raising his hands in peace. "You've been feral for days. You need rest. Let the maids take the boy to the servant quarters—"

Lucian ignored them both. He kicked open a set of massive, carved oak doors at the end of the hall, carried me inside, and slammed the door shut behind us, throwing the heavy brass bolt into place.

The room was enormous. A massive stone fireplace roared on one side, casting long, flickering shadows across a giant four-poster bed draped in dark velvet furs.

Lucian finally released his grip, letting me slide down his body until my boots hit the thick rug.

The moment my feet touched the floor, I scrambled backward, putting the heavy oak table between us. My chest heaved as I fought for air, my mind racing.

Lucian stood by the locked door, his broad shoulders rising and falling. The wild gold in his eyes had completely faded, leaving only deep, intense black. He stared at me, his gaze scanning my face, my dirt-caked neck, and the oversized coat hiding my body.

"Who are you?" he asked. His voice was no longer a mindless growl, but a deep, commanding baritone that sent a tremor straight to my core.

I gripped the edge of the wooden table, my knuckles turning white.

"Caelen," I lied, keeping my voice firm. "My name is Caelen. I'm a boy from Oakhaven."

Lucian took a slow step toward the table. A faint, dangerous smirk touched the corner of his lips.

"Caelen," he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. He stopped at the other side of the table, leaning forward and resting his large hands on the wood. "You can drop the raspy voice, little bird."

My blood ran cold. "What?"

Lucian’s dark eyes locked onto mine, burning with an intense, undeniable heat.

"I may have been half-mad from my beast," he whispered, "but I know the scent of a woman and I know the scent of my mate."