Chapter 14

I braced myself as Kieran approached my on the bed. My pulse climbed loud and frantic, thudding against my ribs like it wanted out. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, pounding out a rhythm of warning. My back tensed, ready to duck, fight, flee—anything. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. This was it. He’d finally decided to take what he believed was his. I told myself I wouldn’t flinch. Wouldn’t cower. If he tried, I’d make him bleed.

But he didn’t grab me. Instead, he crouched in front of me, his hand reaching, not for my throat, not for my waist, but for my arm. I blinked, confused, body still braced for violence as his fingers brushed my skin. He turned my arm gently in his palm, inspecting the jagged cuts that trailed across it. My brain scrambled to catch up.

Kieran rose and stepped into the attached bathroom, reemerging moments later carrying a small bundle of supplies. He knelt down before me, his movements deliberate and precise. His hands moved gently but confidently as he carefully wiped away the blood, dabbing at the wound like it mattered, like I mattered. His touch was surprisingly careful as he wrapped the bandages snugly around my arm, tight, secure, almost expert.

I didn’t know what to do with this version of him. I studied his face—focused, calm, composed, annoyingly handsome. For a split second, he looked almost human. Almost good. But I knew better. I knew what lurked under that skin. No matter how gently he touched me, I was still his captive.

Kieran’s expression shifted as he tightened the last bandage around my arm. His mouth curled into a cruel smile, “I hope you’re not still clinging to your little fantasies,” he said, voice low, almost amused. “You and I, we’re not even close to an equal bargain.”

There it was. The mask was slipping. The calm, composed Alpha was returning to remind me who held the power here. Any goodwill he showed was barely measurable, maybe 0.1% on a good day.

I met his gaze, refusing to look away. He wanted me afraid. He wanted obedience. But all he got was defiance. “You should be focusing on your precious mate ball, what if you miss your fated mate while you’re wasting time playing nurse?”

The words were calculated. I wanted to watch the irritation flicker in his eyes, wanted to remind him that his attention was misplaced. But mostly, I wanted to say it because I knew the truth he didn’t. He wouldn’t find her. Not at that ball. Not ever. Because she was already here.

“Oh, you’ll be attending the mate ball too,” he said casually, as if we were discussing weather.

I froze. My pulse skipped. He didn’t even glance my way, like it was already settled, this wasn’t a topic up for discussion. My stomach twisted. “Why?” I snapped. “So I can pour tea while the rest of the pack plays dress-up and sniffs around for a mate?”

“You’ll be there,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “You have a job to do. You calm our wolves, remember? That’s your value, isn’t it?”

I hated that he was right. I hated even more that he knew it.

He watched me carefully now, reading the way my body stiffened, how my eyes narrowed. I didn’t bother to hide the disdain curling through me. When he saw just how much I loathed the idea of playing pet for a room full of power-hungry wolves, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

The thought of being paraded in front of strangers like some obedient little pack trinket made my stomach twist. “No,” I said, sharper this time. “I’m not going.”

His gaze didn’t flicker. If anything, he looked almost amused, that damn satisfaction returned to his face. He took a slow step closer, towering yet calm. “You’ll go,” he said simply, like it wasn’t up for debate. “One way or another.”

Kieran’s eyes stayed locked on mine, unblinking. My refusal hadn’t shaken him. If anything, it only seemed to amuse him more. Before I could think of something sharper to say, he turned on his heel and walked toward the door.

“Come,” he said.

I didn’t move.

He paused, not looking back. “Now.”

I stood because I had to. Because I already knew how this would go if I didn’t. I followed him in silence as he led me down a wide hallway I hadn’t seen before. The floor beneath us was polished marble, reflecting the soft golden light of the chandelier. The doors we passed were tall, each one etched with unfamiliar symbols and carvings that hinted at old power. When we finally stopped, it was outside a room with tall, heavy, double doors. He pushed them open without hesitation.

The space inside was absurd. Racks of dresses lined the walls, each one more extravagant than the last—silks, velvets, chiffon, deep jewel tones and pale delicate shades. It looked like something from a fantasy, a place where highborn girls prepared to marry into power. I stepped inside cautiously, the plush carpet muffling my steps. My stomach was already sinking.

“Pick one,” Kieran said, walking to the center of the room.

I crossed my arms. “No.”

“Then I’ll pick for you.”

Before I could object again, he was already moving. His fingers brushed through fabric after fabric, pausing, assessing. He didn’t ask for my opinion. Not once. He pulled out a few gowns and tossed them onto the dressing bench. Emerald green. Deep crimson. Silver threaded with black lace. All of them designed to cling and command attention.

“You’re not dressing me,” I said.

He stepped closer, holding a gown up between us, his tone flat. “You will wear what I choose.”

I opened my mouth to argue again, but he cut me off with a look. My hands curled at my sides.

“You treat me like a doll,” I said. “Something to parade around.”

He blinked once, then nodded as if I had finally said something correct.

“That is exactly what you are right now.”

I could have fought harder, refused every zipper, every pin, every strap. But what would it win me? He had already decided and if I wanted any chance of controlling the situation, I had to play the game.

So I stepped toward the nearest screen and took one of the gowns with me. I began to undress, slipping out of my usual clothes and into something that did not feel like me. The fabric was smooth, expensive, cool against my skin.

I didn’t want to go to the mate ball. Every part of me recoiled at the idea. The dresses, the posing, the heavy perfume of desperation in the air. All of it made my skin crawl. It was not my world. I did not belong among the silk and sparkle yetI had no choice. But, if the fates stayed silent, if the pull of a bond never snapped into place for either of them, then maybe I could become something else. Not a mate. Not a prize. But a necessity.

As long as I kept their wolves calm, as long as I remained the only thing standing between them and the constant threat of losing control, they would need me and I would have a sliver of hope to finally be free.

I stood in front of the mirror in the changing room, my reflection cloaked in emerald silk. The dress clung to me like it had been made for my skin. The fabric shimmered with every shift of my body, catching the light in waves. The slit at my thigh revealed more than I was used to. The neckline dipped low, the thin straps hugging my shoulders.

I felt like a stranger inside the image staring back at me. And yet I stepped out anyway. I reluctantly stepped out from behind the screen, and the moment Kieran turned to face me, the air seemed to shift. He stilled completely. His gaze dragged over me slowly. His lips parted slightly, then closed again. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he spoke.

"You look beautiful."

Just that. No smugness. No possessiveness. No mocking twist at the corner of his mouth. I froze. Of all the things I expected him to say, that was not one of them. Not because it was inappropriate. But because it was sincere. Completely and unsettlingly sincere. It was the first time a man had ever looked at me like that and spoken those words.

Adrian never had. Adrian only told me what I was not. Not pretty enough. Not pure enough. Not wolf enough. My shoulders were too sharp. My laugh was too loud. My blood was always wrong. He pointed out everything I lacked and used it to keep me tethered to him. He made sure I never forgot my place beneath him.

But Kieran was not like Adrian.

He was cold. Brutal. Controlling. But he never lied to me. When he hated something, he said it. When he wanted something, he took it. His tactics were blunt and effective. And somehow, that made the compliment worse because I believed it.

I felt the heat crawl up my neck and into my cheeks. I turned my face slightly, not wanting him to see the reaction. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But part of me held onto those two words.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Kieran's eyes shifted toward the sound. Lucian entered a moment later. His eyes landed on me first. Then he turned to Kieran. His voice was low and cold.

"What is going on here?"

The air changed again. Tension curled between the three of us. I stood very still, wrapped in silk and silence, waiting for the next move.