Chapter 6

As if afraid I wouldn't believe him, he led me upstairs and opened the door to the guest chamber. "See? She's keeping to this room."

I glanced inside and nodded. That was all. No anger. No jealousy. No reaction at all.

For some reason, my indifference seemed to unsettle him more than any outburst could have. His brow furrowed before he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "Selene, I missed you," he said roughly. "You refused every visit while you were in the shadow cells. I couldn't sleep through a single night. Every night I dreamed you hated me. Every night I feared you'd never forgive me."

A bitter smile touched my lips. Dreams? Reality had kept me awake for eight years.

I pushed against his chest and stepped back. "I don't wish to speak of the past."

Lucien froze, then slowly let go. "Very well," he said quietly. "It's over. All of it belongs to the past now."

I nearly laughed. Over? Truly?

Before I could ask after my grandfather, the door below opened and Evelyn swept in, laden with parcels from the village market. The moment she saw Lucien's hand upon my wrist, something ugly flickered across her face before vanishing behind a bright smile.

"Selene, we should go down to the market fair," Evelyn said cheerfully, linking her arm through mine. "You've only just left the healer's care. We must find you proper new garments."

Lucien looked suddenly embarrassed. "Your old things had been stored away too long," he admitted. "Marga thought they'd no longer fit you, so she had them given away."

My eyes lifted slowly.

Evelyn watched me carefully, clearly awaiting some reaction. Instead, I simply drew my arm free and said, "Very well."

The disappointment on her face was almost amusing.

Before we left, I told them I needed a moment alone. Instead, I slipped quietly upstairs, first into Lucien's study, then into Evelyn's chamber. My movements were careful, silent as a shadow-wolf's tread. By the time I came back down, a small scrying charm lay hidden within each room, tucked where no careless eye would find it.

**

The market fair was crowded that afternoon, wolves and villagers alike moving in every direction, the lanes filled with noise and jostling bodies. Lucien stayed close beside us until Evelyn suddenly pointed toward a cider stall across the square.

"Lucien, would you fetch me a cup of that spiced cider?" she asked sweetly.

Without suspicion, he nodded and walked off toward the stall. The moment he vanished from sight, Evelyn's smile dropped away entirely.

"So you're still alive," she said coldly.

I looked at her calmly.

Evelyn laughed. "You truly are fortunate, Selene. After everything, you still drew breath."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "No matter. Today I'll show you plainly which of us Lucien chooses."

I did not answer. There was no point. I already knew the answer. Nothing had changed.

Evelyn suddenly raised her voice and screamed, a piercing cry that any wolf's ear would mistake for true terror, and the crowd around us surged into panic at once.

"What's happened?"

"Run!"

"Move aside!"

The crowd swelled forward like floodwater breaking a dam. Within moments Evelyn and I were torn apart, bodies shoving between us as chaos swept through the square.

Then I saw Lucien running toward us, his face carved with alarm.

"Marga!" he shouted.

Evelyn immediately crumpled to the ground, weeping. "Lucien, I'm so frightened. Please don't leave me."

Without hesitation he ran straight to her. For one brief moment his eyes swept across the crowd, searching, but Evelyn seized his arm tightly.

"Please don't leave me," she cried again. "I'm terrified."

Lucien hesitated only a moment before bending down and gathering her into his arms. Then he carried her away, toward safety, his broad back disappearing into the crush of bodies.

I watched him go. I could have called his name through the bond we still shared. I could have told him I stood right there. But why would I? Evelyn wanted me to see plainly which of us he would choose.

How ridiculous, this whole performance. There had never been any need for such a test. Lucien had made that choice years ago.

Someone slammed into me from behind. Pain exploded through my body as I crashed to the cobblestones. A boot came down upon my shoulder. Another crushed my hand beneath it. No one stopped. No one cared. Every soul in that square was fighting only to save themselves.

My vision blurred as my fingers twisted painfully beneath someone's heel. The air grew too thin to breathe. My stomach cramped violently. Head, shoulders, chest, all of it ached so badly I could no longer tell where one pain ended and another began.

The world spun around me. Voices grew distant. Fainter. Fainter still.

Then everything went black, and I lost all sense of myself.

**

When I woke again, I was back within a healer's chamber. The first thing I saw was Lucien standing by the narrow window, a pipe of dried herb-leaf smoldering between his fingers, smoke curling upward into the dark beyond the glass. For a moment he looked utterly worn through.

The scent reached me, and my chest tightened at once.

"Cough... cough..."

I began coughing violently.

Lucien spun around so fast he nearly overturned the chair beside him. "Damn it," he cursed, crushing the pipe out against his bare palm before hurrying to my side. The smoke still hung thick in the air.

For some reason he looked nervous. Almost guilty.

"Selene, at the fair I meant to come back for you," he said roughly. "Marga was struck suddenly with a fainting spell, and you know how frail her constitution has always been. I feared for her, so I carried her clear first. After that, I meant to return and find you."

I looked at him quietly.

Lucien dragged a hand through his hair. "By the time I came back, you were already gone."

Silence settled between us. I turned my gaze away. "I understand."

Lucien frowned. "You understand?"

"Yes," I said calmly. "I understand."

How could I not? After all these years, I understood better than any wolf alive. Whenever it came down to Evelyn or myself, he would always choose Evelyn. The words he offered weren't truly meant for me. They were meant to ease his own conscience.

Lucien stared at me. Something dark flickered across his face, and my calm acceptance seemed to unsettle him more than any fury could have.

After a long silence, I finally asked, "I wish to see Grandfather."

His expression softened slightly. "Your grandfather suffered some trouble with his heart a few days past, but don't fear," he said, crouching beside the pallet. "I've already summoned the finest healer of such ailments in the territory. It isn't grave, and he's being watched closely."

My body stiffened at once.

Lucien squeezed my hand gently. "See to your own healing first."

I looked at him and asked, "When may I go to him?"

After a brief hesitation, he answered, "The moment you're strong enough to stand properly, I'll take you there myself."

My ribs still ached with every breath, yet hearing that Grandfather was unwell made my chest tighten all the same.

For the following day, Lucien scarcely left my side. He remained in the chamber, reviewed pack ledgers, took council through the mind-link from the corridor, and brought meals to me himself. For brief moments, it almost felt like the old days.

Almost.

The next evening, the bond flared suddenly with Evelyn's voice, her sobbing filling the chamber as clearly as if she stood beside us.

Lucien, I know you care for Selene, I know she's your mate, but we loved each other first. Why is she doing this to me? What have I done to deserve such treatment? Is she trying to force me into my grave?

My fingers slowly tightened around the woolen blanket.

"Marga, be calm and tell me plainly," Lucien said at once through the link, his voice softening. "What's happened?"

Before she could answer, the connection went silent, severed as though she'd wished it so.

Lucien's expression changed instantly. Without a second thought he snatched up his cloak and strode for the door.

I didn't know what had happened. But something within me sank all the same. Nothing good ever followed Evelyn's weeping.

The moment Lucien left, I reached through my own bond to Lyra, the old friendship-thread we'd shared since childhood, thin now but never broken.

She answered almost at once. Selene?

Lyra, I need another favor.