Agora’s POV

So much for business meetings… an excuse to reap where they didn’t sow.

I cursed under my breath, walking out of that suffocating chamber. It was flaring with the stench of blood, and I’d smelt enough of it for one day.

As I approached my chamber, a familiar scent hit me….Veryra.

So quick to mark her territory, even in my own space.

I stopped, only to feel Seraphine bump into my back.

One careless maid. She made far too many mistakes.

And yet… something in me refused to punish her.

I wasn’t sure if it was the mate bond, or those green eyes of hers.

Soft, alluring lips. A heart-shaped face.

That red hair, and her slender, petite figure, everything about her kept me restrained when I should’ve snapped.

I shot her a glare, one that made her stiffen instantly.

She trembled, but those eyes… gosh…. Those eyes made me want to do a lot of bad things to her.

When I stepped into the chamber, there she was, Veryra.

Leaning on my bed, half naked, the flimsy excuse of a lace cloth covering her hips and thighs.

From her chest down, the rest was a damn invitation.

What else should that loose scrap of cloth be called?

Her eyes burned with dark desire, that same desperate hunger she always wore like perfume.

Her tactic never changed. She thought I was the same kind of Alpha, one who’d drop to his knees at the sight of her body.

Stupid.

“You… you’re back, Agora.” Veryra’s voice was soft, too soft, her smile trying too hard. “Surprise.”

“Surprise?” My tone was flat, almost bored, of course I was. “ that's trespassing”

She laughed, the sound brittle. “You make it sound like I’m unwelcome.”

I didn’t answer. Just watched the way her fingers toyed with the thin lace on her thigh, the way her gaze begged for reaction. She wanted control, or at least attention.

She chuckled softly, moving closer with that slow, deliberate sway of her hips. “Oh, come now, my Alpha. You wound me with those words. I only came to welcome you back… personally.”

“Personally?” I repeated, “Is that what they call desperation in the East Pack now?”

My eyes didn't fail to notice her smile fade for a second before she quickly recovered, trying to sound composed. “Desperation? Hardly. You make it sound like I haven’t earned the right to stand by your side.”

I stepped closer, close enough for her to smell blood and cigarette smoke clinging to me.

“Tell me, what right does a woman earn by crawling into a man’s bed uninvited?”

Her lips parted, and for once, she didn’t have a quick reply.

She lifted her chin instead, that royal pride kicking in. “You're as cruel as ever, Agora. Is that how you treat all who care for you?”

I smirked. “You cared when it meant power, not when it meant loyalty.”

She frowned, stepping closer until her chest almost brushed mine, and for once my hungry, starving wolf wanted to pin her down and suck those tits like I always did. “Maybe I missed you.”

I let out a low chuckle. “And maybe I’m allergic to lies.”

Her breath hitched slightly. I could see the fury hiding behind that painted face.

Still, she smiled again, her father taught her well. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how to enjoy company. I could remind you.” she said, taking off the laced rag that clings to her skin.

My eyes flicked toward the doorway, Seraphine was still there, frozen, hiding herself like a shadow, her gaze glued to the floor.

Such incompetence, she sure deserves a punishment.

I turned back to Veryra, my tone dropping cold. “You can try, Lady Corwin. But if you value that pretty throat of yours, do not mistake my silence for interest.”

The smile on her lips trembled, and for a moment, the royal mask cracked.

She forced words out of her, firm but shaky. “One day, you’ll want me to stay.” she said, almost in between tears.

I gave her a slow, knowing look. “Maybe,” I murmured. “When your father’s region opens its gates.”

Her father’s territory, the East side of Mooncrest, wasn’t the crown of power, but it held value.

A trade vein feeding the borderlands, rich in routes and resources.

Controlling it meant influence, though not dominance. Still, enough reason to keep Veryra close, at least until it served its purpose.

With that, Veryra slipped her rag of a dress back on, stomping out of the room like a spoiled pup denied a bone. I smirked, shrugging off my coat, but my gaze caught the little petite frame still lurking in the shadow.

She didn’t seem to know her work that well.

After I stripped off the last of my attire, a small gasp escaped her lips, sharp, like she’d just seen a ghost. My wounds weren’t pretty, true, but she had seen far worse things in this mansion. I was sure of it.

“Come here,” I said, my voice low and cold.

She froze, eyes still locked on the carpet like it held the meaning of life itself. I wondered what was so fascinating about it that she couldn’t look up.

When she finally did, I turned toward the bathroom. “Wash me.”

Her hands trembled as she obeyed. The scent of fear mixed with soap filled the air. She moved slowly, gently, her fingers tracing the lines of my shoulder, careful not to press too hard, too soft, or too close.

Her fear was killing her more than I ever could.

I grabbed her wrist, flipping her with one pull. Her small body hit the bath with a splash of water, milk, and crushed rose petals. The sound echoed, sharp and satisfying.

Holding her by the waist, I pulled her closer. Her firm breasts pressed against my shoulder, igniting a fire in me. My wolf stirred, that familiar feeling returning, the mate bond.

Could the Moon Goddess stop reminding me that I was bound to her… to an omega… to a weak wolf?

Her green eyes were utterly captivating, her peach lips soft and kissable, and her black, shiny hair curled perfectly in my hands.

The way her lips parted was irresistible.

"I… I’m… sorry, Alpha….ah… Ago…"

I pressed my lips to hers before she could finish, pulling her into a wet, passionate kiss. My hand gripped the back of her neck, drawing her closer.

I wasn’t supposed to kneel to this temptation… but I did. I actually did.

It was to satisfy my curiosity, just to taste her lips, even if she was useless to me.

Kissing her lips hungrily, I felt a sudden impulse to go further, to lose myself completely in her, until realization struck. She was a maid. My maid. A slave, to be precise.

Pushing her away, I rose from the bathtub, water flowing down my skin. I changed quickly, leaving my upper body bare.

My reflection in the mirror stared back at me, broad chest decorated by bruises and sword cuts, each one.felt like a reminder of battles past.

Crack….

The sound drew my attention. I turned to see Seraphine, now dressed in a simple gown that hung loosely around her body, clinging slightly where it was still damp. Her wet hair framed her face, the fabric at her shoulders dark with water.

“Come here,” I said. As always, my voice made her flinch, her body reacting instinctively to command.

I pulled the medical kit toward her and set it in front of her.

“Treat my wounds,” I ordered.

The moment her soft hands brushed against my bare skin, a chill ran down my spine, a sensation I hadn’t felt in years. Not even Veyrya had stirred that reaction in me, not even when her lips had been wrapped around my groin.

I never thought I could still feel something like this. A shiver. A spark. Somehow, this woman, my cursed mate, dared.

A soft sniff.

I turned toward her immediately. Her eyes were glassy, and she tried to wipe the tears away before I could see them.

“Are you crying?” I asked quietly, watching her wipe her eyes.

Between shaky breaths, she murmured, “The wounds are deep…”