Chapter 9 Public Humiliation

Lily's POV

Shadow King's eyes locked with mine across the crowded room, and time seemed to stop. The chanting of the crowd faded to a distant hum as something primal surged beneath my skin, desperate to reach him. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. My entire being was captured by those piercing eyes that seemed to look straight through me.

For one heart-stopping moment, I thought I saw recognition flicker across his face. Then his expression hardened into something cold and calculating.

The performer straightened from his bow, a predatory smile spreading across his face. He raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice carrying effortlessly through the tavern. "It seems we have a special guest with us tonight."

My stomach dropped. No. No, no, no.

All eyes in the Dark Moon Tavern turned toward me as Shadow King pointed directly at where I stood frozen in place. The spotlight that had been illuminating his performance suddenly swung in my direction, blinding me momentarily.

"Don't be shy, little flower," he called out, his tone friendly but his eyes ice-cold. "Since you've been drawn here to see me, why not come up and let everyone meet you?"

I took a step backward, panic rising in my throat. This couldn't be happening. I needed to leave, to run, to hide. But as I turned to flee, I realized the crowd had closed in behind me, blocking my escape route.

"I—I should go," I stammered, but my voice was lost in the sudden commotion.

Two women appeared on either side of me—cocktail servers in revealing outfits with the Dark Moon logo. Their smiles were bright but their eyes were hard as they each took one of my arms.

"Don't make Shadow King look bad in front of everyone," one whispered through her frozen smile, her long nails digging into my flesh. "That would be very unwise."

"No one here will help you, little wolf," the other added, her grip equally painful. "Just smile and play along."

The crowd parted, creating a path straight to the performance area where the man waited, his posture relaxed but somehow threatening. I felt dozens of curious eyes on me as the women half-dragged me forward.

"Welcome, welcome," Shadow King said as I was deposited before him. His voice was warm but his eyes remained glacial. "Don't be nervous. We don't bite... usually." The crowd laughed on cue.

I stood before him, trembling. Up close, his presence was overwhelming—his scent triggered something ancient and unstoppable inside me, causing a pathetic whine to build in my throat despite the danger. The rational part of me recognized the trap, but a primal instinct only felt the pull of an inexplicable connection.

"Tell everyone," he said, gesturing grandly to the audience, "who you are and why you've crashed my private performance?"

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. "I... I'm from Green Thumb Florist. I came to deliver the blood bat flowers."

The explanation sounded pathetic even to my own ears. Several people in the crowd snickered.

Shadow King raised an eyebrow. "Just delivering flowers? Are you sure there wasn't something else... drawing you here?"

A man with a tattooed face and a vibrant mohawk called out from the front row. "Alpha Blake, this little chick is obviously hot for you! Look at how she's staring!"

The crowd erupted in laughter, but I barely heard them. My blood turned to ice in my veins. Alpha Blake? This was Blake? The Alpha of Silver Ridge? Shadow Brew's inventor... Shadow King?!

The realization crashed over me in devastating waves. A triumphant howl echoed through my mind while my human consciousness recoiled in horror.

My mate was the man who had created the very drink that had destroyed my family. The drink my father had chosen over us, night after night. The drink that had turned him from a loving parent into a stranger who could barely remember my name.

My fated mate was the architect of my childhood misery.

No wonder the beast inside me had been so desperate to come here, to see him perform. That animal instinct had known all along who he was, but didn't care about the pain he'd caused. It only felt the pull of the bond, blind to everything else.

I felt sick. Dizzy. Like the ground was tilting beneath me.

"It seems our little wolf is feeling something special, isn't she?" Blake said, his voice dropping to a silky purr that made instinct urge me toward him even as my rational side wanted to sink through the floor.

To my horror, he stepped closer, invading my personal space. He leaned in, inhaling deeply along my neck. My body betrayed me, nearly melting at the intimacy of the gesture, urging me to tilt my head in submission. The crowd whistled and cheered, mistaking his assessment for a seductive advance.

"Roses, lilies, and something else...jasmine?" he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear, his breath hot against my ear. "You're surrounded by flowers, little flower." A shiver ran involuntarily down my spine.

He knows plants, a small, ridiculous part of my brain noted with interest. Of course he does—he makes drinks from them.

His scent enveloped me, making my head swim. When he spoke again, his voice had changed—becoming gentle, almost intimate.

"Don't mind them, darling. People always envy special connections."

My heart stuttered. Was this genuine? Had his attitude suddenly changed?

"Your Midnight, Shadow King," a bartender called out, sliding a glass of glowing red liquid across the counter toward us.

Blake caught it without looking, his eyes never leaving mine. "Let's play a little game," he suggested, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. His touch sent electricity shooting down my spine. "To prove you're really feeling what I think you're feeling."

The crowd quieted, leaning in with anticipation.

"I... I should really go," I whispered, but my feet remained rooted to the spot.

What the hell is wrong with me? Run! my mind screamed, but animal instinct wasn't listening. A primal force pulled me toward him despite every warning bell clanging in my head.

"Close your eyes," Blake instructed softly. "Trust me. If there's truly a connection between us, you'll know what happens next."

The crowd murmured excitedly. I stood there, paralyzed by indecision. Everything in me screamed danger, but a plaintive whimper built in my chest, begging me to trust him.

"Close your eyes," he repeated, his voice hypnotic.

Against my better judgment, I let my eyelids flutter shut. The moment darkness enveloped me, I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. The whispers and snickers around me suddenly seemed much clearer.

I heard the sound of Blake swallowing liquid. My muscles tensed, preparing for... what? I wasn't sure.

Then it came—ice-cold liquid cascading over my head, drenching my hair and face. I gasped, my eyes flying open as red liquid streamed down, soaking into my clothes.