Chapter 71

Chapter 71: Chapter 71

Valeria lay tangled in silk sheets, her body still humming with the aftermath of pleasure. The room smelled of sweat and sex and the faint, lingering trace of the lavender oil she had rubbed into Elias’s shoulders. He lay beside her, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her bare back, his breathing still uneven.

"That was..." he started.

"Acceptable," Valeria finished. "You’re improving."

"High praise from you."

"Don’t get used to it."

Elias chuckled and continued his gentle ministrations. After a long silence, he spoke again. "So. The Sword Sovereign. His betrothed."

Valeria’s eyes, which had been half-closed, snapped open. "What about his betrothed?"

"The Silvermoon girl. She came into the training hall today and practically threw herself at him in front of everyone. Called him her betrothed. Made quite a scene." Elias shook his head. "Thorne was there. Looked like someone had stabbed him in the chest."

Valeria sat up abruptly, the sheets pooling around her waist. "Selene is here? She came with Silvermoon?"

Elias blinked, surprised by her sudden intensity. "Is that her name? Selene?"

"Answer my question. Is Selene here? At this academy? Right now?"

"Yes. She’s with the Silvermoon delegation. Apparently she’s their student leader." Elias studied her face. "You know her?"

Valeria didn’t answer immediately. Her mind was racing, memories surfacing like bodies from a grave. Selene. The perfect, polished, insufferable Selene. The woman who had humiliated her years ago at a diplomatic function, who had smiled sweetly while cutting her down with a few perfectly chosen words, who had made her feel small and insignificant and utterly beneath notice.

"That smart bitch," Valeria muttered under her breath. "Why is she here?"

"Apparently she’s Soren’s betrothed. Has been since childhood, according to the rumors." Elias paused. "You didn’t know?"

"I knew he had a betrothal. I didn’t know it was her." Valeria’s jaw tightened. "I didn’t know she would be here."

The implications were settling in now, layer upon layer of complication. Selene was Soren’s betrothed. Selene was here, at the academy, for the showcase. Selene had publicly claimed Soren in front of everyone—including Thorne.

And if Selene was here, she would eventually figure out what Valeria had been piecing together for weeks. The secret. The disguise. The truth about Thorne Astrlyn.

But perhaps that’s not a bad thing, Lila murmured in her mind. Selene is clever. Ruthless. And she has no love for anyone who threatens what’s hers. She’ll do our work for us.

"You’re right," Valeria whispered, a cold smile spreading across her face. "I don’t have to worry about Thorne anymore. Selene will handle her just fine."

"What are you thinking?" Elias asked, watching her with a mixture of desire and wariness.

Valeria didn’t answer. Instead, she swung her leg over his hips and settled on top of him, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders.

"We have a long day ahead," she said, her voice a purr. "And since I don’t have much else to do right now..."

She began to move, and Elias’s questions dissolved into incoherent groans. The room filled with the sound of their mingled breathing, and Valeria let herself forget about Selene and Thorne and Soren and everything else.

There would be time for scheming later.

The quiet place Corvin had found was a small courtyard on the western edge of the academy, hidden behind a wall of overgrown hedges and forgotten by everyone except the gardeners. A single stone bench sat beneath a gnarled old tree, its branches bare and reaching toward the stars. No one came here. No one would disturb them.

Nyra sat on the bench, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than grief. Corvin sat beside her, close enough to offer comfort but not so close that she felt trapped. His hands were fisted on his knees, his jaw tight, his heart a battlefield of rage and helplessness.

Look at her, Zen snarled in his mind, his voice a low, dangerous growl. Look at what he did to her. Our mate. Crying. Broken. Because of him.

I know.

I want to find Kael. I want to face him. I want to make him feel what she’s feeling right now.

I know. But that’s not what she needs right now.

Then what does she need?

She needs us to be here. To listen. To not make this about our anger.

Zen subsided, but Corvin could still feel him pacing in the back of his mind, restless and furious.

"Nyra," Corvin said quietly. "Can you talk to me?"

She shook her head, her sobs intensifying.

"Okay. You don’t have to talk. Just breathe. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere."

He sat with her in silence, listening to her cry. It was the hardest thing he had ever done—harder than carrying Lucian through the Mistwood, harder than facing down rogues, harder than any challenge the academy had ever thrown at him. Watching her break apart and knowing he couldn’t fix it.

After what felt like an eternity, her sobs began to quiet. Her breathing slowed. Her shoulders stopped shaking. She lifted her head, and the sight of her face—red and swollen, her silver eyes dull with exhaustion—made Corvin’s chest ache.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here."

She took it and wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. "I look terrible."

"You look like someone who’s been crying. There’s no shame in that."

She let out a shaky breath. "I don’t know what to feel anymore. I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m... empty."

"That’s understandable."

"Is it? Because right now I feel like I’m going crazy." She crumpled the handkerchief in her fist. "I don’t understand, Corvin. Why didn’t he tell me? We’ve been through so much together. I told him everything—about Thorne, about my uncle, about the assassination. I trusted him with my life. And he couldn’t trust me with this?"

Corvin was quiet for a moment. "I don’t think it was about trust."

"Then what was it about?"

"Fear." He chose his words carefully. "Soren has spent his entire life being what everyone else needed him to be. The perfect heir. The perfect warrior. The perfect Lycan. He’s never been allowed to want something for himself. And then you came along, and you were everything he never knew he wanted. I think he was afraid that if he told you the truth—if he admitted that he was bound by a contract he never chose—you would look at him differently. You would see him as a liar. As someone who couldn’t be trusted."

"I do see him that way."

"I know. And that’s his fault. Not yours." Corvin turned to face her. "But I don’t think he kept the secret because he wanted to deceive you. I think he kept it because he was terrified of losing you. And in the end, that fear became a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Nyra stared at the ground. "That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard."

"Love makes people stupid. You’re proof of that."

She looked up at him, and despite everything, a ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. "Did you just call me stupid?"

"I called you in love. The stupidity is implied."

She laughed—a wet, shaky sound, but a laugh nonetheless. It was the first one she’d managed all day.

"I want to know everything," she said, her voice steadier now. "About Selene. About the betrothal. About why Soren couldn’t tell me the truth. You said you would explain. So explain."

Corvin nodded. "I’ll tell you everything I know. But first—are you sure you’re ready to hear it?"

"I need to hear it. I need to understand."

"Okay." He settled back on the bench, his shoulder brushing hers. "Then I’ll start from the beginning. Selene is the daughter of King Aldric’s closest ally, the ruler of the Silverwood pack. The betrothal contract was signed when Soren was seven years old. He had no say in it. Neither did she. It was a political arrangement—an alliance to strengthen the Crown’s hold on the western territories."

Nyra listened in silence as Corvin spoke. He told her about the Silverwood pack, about its wealth and influence, about the strategic importance of the marriage. He told her about Selene—her reputation as Silvermoon’s finest student, her political acumen, her ambition. He told her about the contract’s terms, the penalties for breaking it, the political chaos that would ensue if either party backed out.

"When Soren met you," Corvin said finally, "everything changed. The mate bond doesn’t care about political contracts. It doesn’t care about alliances or treaties or the Crown’s expectations. It chose you. And Soren chose you too. But he was still bound by a promise he made when he was a child. A promise he never wanted to keep."

"He should have told me."

"Yes. He should have." Corvin’s voice was gentle but firm. "But he didn’t. And now you have to decide what to do with that."

Nyra was quiet for a long moment. The tears had stopped, but the hollow ache in her chest remained. "What would you have done? If you were him?"

Corvin considered the question. "I would have told you the moment I knew you were my mate. But I’m not Soren. I wasn’t raised to be a king. I wasn’t taught to sacrifice my own happiness for the sake of the realm. I’ve never had to choose between duty and love." He paused. "That’s not an excuse for what he did. But it might help you understand why he did it."

Nyra nodded slowly. "Thank you. For telling me. For being here."

"You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always be here. Whatever happens between you and Soren—whatever you decide—I’m not going anywhere."

She looked at him—the sharp features, the calculating eyes, the unexpected gentleness beneath the cold exterior. The serpent. Her other mate. The man who had figured out her secret and kept it. The man who had risked his life to save her. The man who was sitting with her on a cold stone bench in the middle of the night, letting her cry on his shoulder without asking for anything in return.

"Corvin," she said quietly. "I don’t deserve you."

"You deserve more than me. You deserve more than Soren. You deserve the world." He stood and offered her his hand. "But for now, let’s get you back to your dorm. Your friends are worried about you. Finn has probably chewed through three sets of fingernails by now."

She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. "Will you stay? For a little while?"

"As long as you need."

They walked back through the dark corridors together, and Nyra felt the faintest glimmer of something she hadn’t felt all day.

Hope.