Chapter 44

Esther’s POV

The transfer slip trembled between my fingers like a bird trying to escape. Kevin’s name glared back at me from the bank ledger, another loan denied. Carl’s latest labs burned in my bag: markers sliding downhill, medications failing, time running out. Every road I had built over the past six years led back to the same wall: Nicholas.

I stared at my reflection in the polished marble of the palace hallway. My face looked older than thirty, hollows under my eyes, lips bloodless. Sharon hovered at the edge of my consciousness, restless but not yet fully awake, flickering like a candle.

“You’ll do anything,” I whispered to my reflection. “So do it.”

The guards outside his office stiffened as I approached. No one stopped me. Maybe they’d already been told to expect me. Maybe they wanted to see how far the fallen slave would crawl tonight.

I knocked once, sharp.

“Enter.” His voice rolled out low and unhurried, but even from the hallway I could feel the heat of it.

Inside, Nicholas sat behind his blackwood desk, fingers steepled. Moonlight poured across his shoulders, catching the scar at his jaw and the gold in his eyes. His scent hit me like a wave—forest musk, steel, something darker curling beneath.

For a moment the memory of the full moon night slammed into me—his claws, his broken voice whispering my name. I forced it down, inhaled steady, and shut the door behind me.

“What do you want?” His tone was cool, but his eyes flicked over my face with the intensity of a blade.

I set the folder on his desk. “Carl’s condition. It’s getting worse.”

He didn’t touch the folder. “Kevin’s child.”

My throat tightened. “A child,” I said. “That’s all you need to know.”

His jaw ticked. “Get to the point.”

“I need funds. A very large sum. Enough to transfer him to the best facility, pay for experimental treatment.” My hands wanted to tremble but I curled them into fists. “I’ll do what you’ve been asking. Three months. I’ll stay here. I’ll…” The words caught in my throat but I forced them out. “I’ll be yours.”

The silence after was thick enough to suffocate me.

His eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed. “You’ll be mine?”

I stared at a point just past his shoulder. “If that’s what it takes. But you wire the funds immediately. Non-negotiable.”

He rose from the desk slowly, like a predator unfolding. “You think this is a marketplace? That you can walk in and trade yourself like—”

“I don’t think anything,” I cut in, my voice like glass. “I’m saving a child.”

He circled the desk until he was in front of me. The scent of his wolf washed over me, heat and danger.

“Say it,” he murmured.

My chin jerked up. “I’m agreeing to your terms.”

He leaned closer. “Because you want to, or because you’re desperate?”

My heart pounded. “Does it matter?”

His breath hissed out, almost a laugh, almost a snarl. “No. No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

For a heartbeat something flickered in his eyes—hesitation? regret?—but then his mouth curled into that cruel half-smile.

“You always did know your price,” he said softly.

The words landed like a slap.

I stepped back, spine rigid. “Wire the money.”

He tilted his head. “Already done.”

I swallowed hard. “Then our bargain is sealed.”

“Indeed.” He walked back to his desk, picked up a sleek tablet, and tapped a few times. “Check your account.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn’t look at it.

Instead I whispered, “Thank you.”

His eyes flashed gold. “Don’t thank me. You’re paying.”

I turned toward the door, fighting to keep my back straight.

“Three months,” he called after me. “Don’t forget.”

I didn’t answer. If I did, he’d hear the crack in my voice.

I made it halfway down the hall before I had to lean against the wall, trembling. My chest felt carved out. Sharon pressed at my ribs, a low rumble of discontent.

I know, I whispered inwardly. I hate it too. But we’re out of time.

The bond thrummed faintly, like a warning bell. Nicholas had read my surrender as currency. And maybe it was. But it was also my knife, my only chance to wake Sharon fully and pour healing into Carl before it was too late.

I pressed my forehead to the cool marble. Never forgive him, I told myself. Use him. Save Carl. Then vanish.

Nicholas’s POV

I watched her go, the sway of her hair like a banner of defiance even as her shoulders hunched. The scent she left behind curled in my lungs—fear, salt, something stubborn under it.

Norman prowled just under my skin, growling low. You hurt her.

“She came to me,” I muttered aloud. “She offered herself.”

Desperate, Norman rumbled. Not offering. Surviving.

My jaw clenched. I poured whiskey into a glass but didn’t drink. Her eyes when she said “I’ll be yours” burned behind my eyelids like they were flat and cold, not the way a mate should look.

“She’s still protecting Kevin,” I told the empty room. “Doing this for his brat.”

Norman’s growl deepened. They’re ours.

“No,” I snapped. “They’re not.”

I paced behind the desk, the energy in me too sharp to sit. Six years of thinking she was dead. Six years of burying what she’d done. Then she walks back in, with Kevin’s children, wearing that low, tired voice, and sells herself to me as if I’m a monster buying meat at market.

You wanted her to stay, Norman reminded me.

“Yes,” I hissed. “But not like this.”

Then don’t treat her like this.

I slammed the glass down. “I can’t—”

The transfer receipt blinked on my tablet, confirming the wire: enough to fund an entire medical wing, transferred in one keystroke. It should have satisfied me. Instead it felt like swallowing ash.

Why couldn’t I tell her what I actually wanted? Why did every word come out barbed?

Because if I admitted the truth—that the idea of Kevin’s hands on her made me want to tear down kingdoms, that the sound of her voice calming me under the full moon had dragged me back from feral darkness—then I’d have to face what I’d done six years ago.

I sat at the desk, head in my hands, receipt glowing blue against my skin.

Norman huffed inside me. Say you’re sorry.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

You will.

I closed my eyes. The bond pulsed faintly, tugging me toward her, toward the chamber where she’d gone to bury her shame in silence. Three months. I had her for three months. Long enough to prove she still belonged to me, long enough to peel away Kevin’s stench.

The thought sickened me.

Pride kept my mouth shut, kept my body in the chair, fingers gripping the receipt like it was the only proof that I still had control.

Through the window the moonlight spilled across the floor, silver and cold, and I stared at it until my eyes burned, thinking of the way she had whispered thank you without looking at me.

I’d wired the money. I’d bought my own damn cage.

Norman’s growl faded to a low sigh. She’s saving her child. And you just made her hate you.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I know.”

For the first time in years, the Alpha King felt like an imposter in his own skin.