Isla's POV
I can't breathe.
The Queen's chambers door closes behind Kieran with a heavy thud, and suddenly I'm alone in a room bigger than the entire servant quarters.
My legs give out. I sink to the floor, Kieran's cloak pooling around me.
What just happened?
Six hours ago, I was scrubbing floors. Being kicked. Going hungry. Invisible.
Now I'm wearing the Moon's Kiss. The Wolf King called me his mate. His queen.
And someone wants me dead.
My hands shake as I touch the mark on my neck. It's warm, pulsing with power I don't understand. The silver patterns glow faintly in the dim light.
This isn't real. It can't be real.
But the pain in my knees from kneeling on the temple floor is real. The blood dried under my fingernails from when I clawed at the marble is real. The way my heart races every time I think about Kieran's silver eyes—that's real too.
A soft knock makes me jump.
"Miss?" A gentle voice calls through the door. "May I come in?"
I scramble to my feet, pulling Kieran's cloak tighter. "Yes?"
The door opens, and a young maid enters carrying a stack of folded fabric. She's maybe a year older than me, with kind eyes and a nervous smile.
"His Majesty sent me to help you settle in," she says, curtsying. "My name is Eliza. I'm to be your personal maid."
My personal maid. The words sound wrong. I've never had anyone help me with anything.
"I... thank you," I manage.
Eliza sets the fabric on the bed—no, not fabric. Gowns. Three of them, each more beautiful than anything I've ever seen.
"I brought nightclothes and dresses for tomorrow," she explains. "We'll have proper measurements taken in the morning, but these should fit for now."
She moves around the room lighting candles, and I finally see it properly.
The bed could fit ten people. The windows stretch from floor to ceiling. There's a bathing room attached—an actual bathing room with a tub big enough to swim in. Candles float in the air without anything holding them. Magic.
"This is too much," I whisper.
Eliza pauses. "Miss?"
"I don't belong here. This room, these clothes, I—" My voice cracks. "I slept on the floor yesterday. How can I sleep in a bed meant for a queen?"
Eliza's expression softens. She comes closer, speaking quietly.
"I know this is overwhelming. But Miss... you are the queen now. The moon chose you. That's not something anyone can argue with."
"Everyone's going to hate me."
"Some will," she admits. "But some won't. I don't." She smiles. "I heard what His Majesty said. How he protected you. How he claimed you in front of everyone. The Wolf King has never shown interest in anyone before. Ever."
"He doesn't want me," I say bitterly. "He's just doing his duty."
Eliza shakes her head. "You didn't see his face when those assassins attacked. I was there, Miss. I saw him shift faster than I've ever seen anyone move. He was... terrified. For you."
Terrified? The Winter King, terrified?
That doesn't make sense.
"Come," Eliza says gently. "Let me help you bathe and change. You've had a long night."
The bath water is hot and smells like lavender. I sink into it, and for the first time in hours, my muscles start to relax.
Eliza washes my hair—my hair, something I've always done myself—and I have to fight back tears. When was the last time someone was kind to me like this?
After, she helps me into a nightgown made of silk so soft it feels like water against my skin.
"There," she says, smiling. "Much better."
I catch my reflection in the mirror and freeze.
That can't be me.
The girl staring back has clean hair that falls in dark waves. Clear skin without dirt smudges. The Moon's Kiss glows silver against her collarbone, making her look... almost pretty.
Almost like someone who could be a queen.
"You should rest, Miss," Eliza says. "His Majesty left strict orders that no one disturb you."
She curtsies and leaves, and I'm alone again.
I walk to the massive bed and just stare at it. The sheets are silk. The pillows are stuffed with feathers. There are more blankets than I've owned in my entire life.
I climb in slowly, half expecting someone to burst through the door and yell at me for touching things I'm not supposed to touch.
No one comes.
I sink into the mattress, and it's so soft I could cry. The pillows smell like lavender and something else. Something wild and familiar.
Kieran.
These were his mother's rooms. He must have visited here as a child. Slept in this bed when he had nightmares. Been held by his mother in this very spot.
The thought makes my chest ache.
I pull the blankets up to my chin and stare at the ceiling. Painted stars swirl across it, glowing faintly with magic.
Is this a dream?
If it is, I don't want to wake up.
But if it's real...
If it's real, then I'm in more danger than I've ever been. Someone tried to kill me tonight. Someone who planned it. Who knew the moon would choose me.
How could they know?
And why do they want me dead so badly?
My eyes start to close. The exhaustion is overwhelming. I haven't eaten since yesterday morning. Haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. My body is shutting down whether I want it to or not.
Just before I drift off, I hear it.
A sound. Soft. Like footsteps in the hallway.
I sit up, my heart racing. Kieran said to lock the door. Did I lock it?
I can't remember.
The footsteps get closer. Slow. Deliberate.
They stop right outside my door.
I hold my breath, staring at the door handle. Waiting for it to turn.
It doesn't move.
Silence.
Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I'm so tired I'm hearing things.
Then I hear the voice. Whispered. Cold.
"Sleep well, little imposter. Enjoy it while you can."
Ice floods my veins.
Someone is outside my door. Someone who knows I'm alone. Who knows I'm vulnerable.
The dagger, I remember suddenly. Kieran said there's a dagger in the nightstand.
Moving as quietly as possible, I reach for the drawer. My fingers close around cold metal. I pull out a blade that gleams silver in the candlelight.
The footsteps retreat. Fading down the hallway.
Gone.
I sit there clutching the dagger, shaking so hard my teeth chatter.
Someone just threatened me. In the palace. In the Queen's chambers.
Which means Kieran was right.
The person who cursed me, who sent those assassins, who wants me dead—they're not some distant enemy.
They're here.
Living in the palace.
Walking these halls.
And they just let me know they can reach me whenever they want.
I don't sleep. I sit with my back against the headboard, dagger in hand, watching the door.
Waiting.
Because I know, deep in my bones, that tonight was just the beginning.
The real danger is coming.
And I have no idea how to survive it.