KAIDEN'S POV
The moment the words leave my mouth, the entire ballroom stills. The air shifts and everywhere is filled with shock, outrage, disbelief.
Gasps echo, and the music falters as whispers spread like wildfire. My brothers stand rigid at my sides—Killian is filled with barely restrained fury. Kieran is silent but coiled tight with tension.
An Omega? Our mate?
Impossible.
The girl stands before me. Her golden-hazel eyes are wide. Her breath is uneven and her body is trembling—but not with fear. No. There is no pleading, no desperate grasping for our mercy. Instead, she stares at me with quiet defiance. Her chin lifts ever so slightly, daring me to reject what the Goddess has decreed.
I want to. I need to.
But my wolf howls in my mind. He is restless, agitated. The bond wraps around my soul so tight. It keeps tightening with every passing second, demanding that I accept her, that I take her, that I claim her. The scent of her—something intoxicating—fills my lungs, and I clench my fists, forcing myself to resist.
She is beautiful. Devastatingly so.
Her hair is thick and curly. It falls past her shoulders. The rich brown strands catch the chandelier's glow. Her skin is smooth, sun-kissed, flawless. But it's her eyes that captivate me the most. They are fierce and are filled with a fire that should not exist in an Omega. Her lips, full and soft, part slightly as if she is about to speak, but she doesn't. She only watches me with an unreadable expression.
I turn to my brothers. As I speak, my voice is cold, detached. "She will remain in Silverfang Keep."
Killian releases a breath and his fists unclench "Good."
Kieran nods, though his jaw is set. He looks at the girl as if she is a problem to be solved, an anomaly that shouldn't exist.
"But not as our equal," I add, "She will know her place."
Finally, something flickers in her eys. Not fear. Not sadness. Just understanding. As if she knew this was coming. As if she expected this cruelty from me.
That only makes me angrier.
I need her to fight, to scream, to beg for my acceptance so I can have a reason to despise her. But she doesn't. She simply holds my gaze, and something inside me cracks. It's a fracture so small yet so strong that I can feel the ground shifting beneath me.
I don't let it show.
"The servants' quarters will be too generous for her," I continue, ensuring my voice is loud enough for the stunned crowd to hear. "She will sleep in the old storage room beneath the west wing. Let her understand what it means to be unworthy."
Kieran doesn't react. Killian smirks. The girl remains still.
The room I've assigned her is worse than anything a servant would endure. No windows. A damp, suffocating space where dust and decay are. Even animals would refuse to sleep there.
But she will.
Until we figure out what to do with her.
The bond burns inside me, clawing at my restraint. My wolf snarls, furious, demanding I undo this, that I pull her into my arms and cherish her as she deserves. But I ignore it.
I refuse to let her ruin us.
I look at her.
"You belong to us," I tell her. "But you will never be our mate."
Still, she does not cower.
And that infuriates me more than anything else.
I turn, walking away before the bond shatters what little control I have left.
-
The night is quiet, but my mind is anything but.
I sit in my chamber, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake the image of the girl from my thoughts. It's useless. She's there, in the back of my mind, haunting me like something I can't escape. Her scent still lingers in my senses. She smells like wild honeysuckle and something warm, something intoxicating. It enters into my bloodstream, into my very being, and no matter how much I try to fight it, it refuses to fade.
My wolf paces restlessly. He is unsettled, agitated. I grit my teeth, pressing my fingers into the armrest of my chair, trying to will the feeling away.
Then, I feel it.
A pull. A whisper in my soul.
Her scent calls to me.
My entire body tenses. It's not real. It's just my mind playing tricks on me. But the more I try to ignore it, the stronger it becomes. My heart pounds against my ribs, my muscles coil, my breathing turns uneven.
I clench my fists. I am in control. I always have been. My choices are my own.
But my wolf has other plans.
A low growl vibrates through my chest as my instincts begin to take over. The primal part of me—the part that recognizes her as mine—refuses to be silenced. My pulse quickens, my skin burns with the need to move, to act, to claim.
Before I know it, I'm on my feet. My legs move of their own accord. As I move, my willpower crumbles with every step. The hallways are dark and silent, but I don't need light to find her. My body knows the way.
The scent grows stronger as I approach her chamber. It wraps around me like an embrace. My breath is shallow and my fingers twitch at my sides. I stop just outside her door. My heart is pounding and my control slipps through my fingers like sand.
This isn't supposed to happen.
For the first time in my life, I am not in control.
The realization crashes over me hard and the thought of it knocks the breath from my lungs. My hands tremble as I reach for the door—
And then I freeze.
I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't want this.
But I do.
The bond is winning, and I don't know if I can fight it much longer.