Chapter 4 - Whispers in the Royal Chambers
The heavy oak doors of the royal bedchambers clicked shut, sealing out the noise of the aftermath.
Eloin sat on the edge of the crimson bed, her hands trembling as she stared down at her own palms. The adrenaline of the battle had faded, leaving behind a profound, exhausting emptiness. She had spent her entire life hiding, scrubbing floors, and enduring Matron Delphine’s cruelty, believing she was the weakest creature alive.
Now, she possessed the power to shatter stone and command beasts.
A soft rustle announced Cassian’s return. He had shifted back to his human form, though a few drops of dried blood stained the collar of his dark tunic. His silver-white hair was slightly disheveled, but his golden eyes were entirely focused on her.
"You're shaking," Cassian said softly, crossing the room with slow, careful steps as if approaching a frightened wild animal.
"I watched you slaughter them," Eloin whispered, not looking up. "So easily."
"They came to murder my mate," Cassian replied, sitting down on the bed beside her. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the overwhelming scent of pine, smoke, and raw power enveloped her. "In my world, Eloin, mercy for enemies is suicide for those you love."
"I don't belong here," she muttered, a tear finally escaping and tracking down her bruised cheek. "I don't know how to be a queen. I don't know how to rule packs or fight councils. I'm just an orphan."
Cassian gently caught her chin, forcing her to look into his blazing gold eyes.
"You are Princess Eloin of the First Eclipse," he corrected firmly, his voice fierce yet laced with an unexpected tenderness. "You were hidden away in a human orphanage to protect you from the usurpers who murdered your parents. But your bloodline is royal, Eloin. And your wolf is sleeping inside you, waiting for you to accept who you truly are."
"What if I can't?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"I will hold you until you can," Cassian answered without a moment's hesitation.
He pulled her gently against his chest. Eloin stiffened for a second before melting into his embrace, burying her face against his warm shoulder. For the first time in her sixteen years of life, she felt safe.
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Outside the high arched windows, however, the storm clouds gathered. In the shadows of the outer courtyard, a cloaked figure watched the royal window—holding a glowing crimson crystal that pulsed with dark, forbidden magic.
The Northern Council was not finished yet.
