Chapter 6 - Caelum

I knew her scent was familiar. Very familiar. My lycan side became so heightened that I thought I might transform right in the middle of the hall when the waitress appeared before us to serve us.

Seraphina’s jealousy seemed irrational; I know that our marriage has seemed more like a business partnership than one of affection and love. But I would never betray Seraphina. Even though we don’t have children, something we both long for, the respect and admiration I have for my mate go beyond any differences we might have now.

But here she was. The woman who gave me the last night of freedom. I would never forget the mark on her neck, so delicate and charming. As soon as she entered the hall, her scent rose above all the other aromas, and for a moment, I thought it was just nostalgia creeping up on me again. The longing for a simpler, happier time in my life, before a cold marriage and a kingdom on the brink of collapse due to the attacks from the Wolfspawn Renegades.

As she approached us, skillfully and impeccably with the tray, the young woman had aged and changed in these five years. The cheerful, mischievous, and playful face I knew from the bar table had taken on a serious and cold appearance, one I could barely associate with the woman from five years ago. But the scent… that never changes; the scent doesn’t lie. Even when she was startled by Seraphina’s unfounded accusation, her scent remained, above the hormones we release when we feel fear.

The same now, with her on the floor at my feet, frightened by the collision our bodies had. Her heart beats as fast as a hummingbird’s. I couldn’t be sure it was her until I saw the mark on her neck. That beautiful, delicate crescent moon mark I kissed so many times that night until the sun came up.

What is she doing here? After five years, what is she planning to do coming here? Was my magic that night not good enough for her to recognize me as a king?

“You…what do you want, huh?” I ask seriously, pushing aside my initial reaction to seeing her.

If she’s come here to blackmail me for us sleeping together five years ago, her plan won’t last even for a second. I already have too many problems, and a woman I only slept with once before I married won’t be a part of my list.

“I… I… I apologize, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to stain you,” she responds, nervously stammering. Pretending to misunderstand the step we took.

I grip her arm tightly, forcing her to stand before me. Her frightened face becomes even more visible as I draw closer to her. The memory of that night comes to my mind like a raging wave. Her soft, full lips are slightly parted, inviting me to remember our first kiss.

“Who are you? What do you want, huh? Did you think you could come here and not be noticed by me? Your scent is unmistakable, did you know that?” The words leave my mouth laced with impatience, almost growled, as my hand tightens on the young woman’s arm with a force bordering on brutality. I shake her arm, demanding that she answers me, that she explains why she’s here in my domain. What the hell is she doing here?

The waitress’s body shakes like a sack of potatoes, unstable and fragile in my hands. She seems so small, so vulnerable before me, and realizing that only intensifies the frustration I feel. With her free hand, she desperately tries to maintain her balance, pressing it against my chest, her brown eyes wide with terror, reflecting the brutality of my actions. There’s a gleam of fear in them that makes me hesitate for a brief moment, but the feeling is soon suppressed by the wave of distrust that consumes me.

“My name is Aria, Majesty. Aria, I’m just a waitress hired for the job. I apologize for the incident, I should have watched where I was going, sorry…” Her voice trembles, the words barely leaving her mouth, and there’s a near sob threatening to escape from her throat. Each syllable seems like a struggle for her, as if speaking were a task too hard to bear in the face of my intimidating presence.

“Why did you come here, huh? What do you want?” My voice gains a new layer of impatience, the tone sharper, as I tighten my grip on Aria’s arm. I feel the muscles under my hand contract in response to the pain, and I see her face twist in anguish.

Her expression, a mix of fear and suffering, only fuels my suspicions. She tries, almost instinctively, to pull my hand off her soft arm, but her attempt is weak, almost pathetic. I stare at her coldly, letting my fury drip like poison, even while a part of me tries to suppress the memories that keep rising.

Years ago, I saw her—not as she is now—but in hazy dreams, visions of a woman who somehow connected with my soul. In those dreams, her presence was enigmatic, cloaked in mystery, and I never thought I would see her in the real world, let alone here, inside my palace. The idea that she dared to come here, to infiltrate my territory to… What? Try something? The doubt hangs over me like a shadow.

“To work, Majesty! I apologize,” Aria repeats the same answer, her voice trembling and laced with terror. Of course, she’s terrified, and I can feel it in the rigidity of her body, in the way she tries not to shake too much in front of me. Her scent, once sweet and familiar, is now mixed with the unmistakable aroma of fear. It’s almost suffocating, and at the same time intoxicating, as if her terror had a physical form that filled the air around us.

The moment I decide to take her outside the palace, a loud bang erupts from the hall behind us, interrupting my movement. The sound is so powerful that I feel the ground tremble beneath my feet, as if the earth itself were revolting. A violent crash hits our backs, like a shockwave that spreads throughout the space, knocking us to the floor.

The impact is brutal. I feel the air expelled from my lungs as I hit the ground with force, and for a moment, the world around me dissolves into a whirlwind of chaos and confusion. The sounds around me become distorted, a mix of screams, howls, and a muffled buzzing that fills my ears, as if I were submerged in water. The pain throbs in my head, a constant pounding that threatens to tear apart my focus, and all I can do is struggle to catch my breath.

Beside me, Aria is also fallen, her body sprawled on the cold ground. I see her cough violently, the dust and smoke around us making it hard to breathe. She tries to get up, the expression on her face still marked by terror, her wide-open eyes looking around as if trying to understand what just happened.

I try to rise, but the world still seems to sway, and my legs feel as if they were made of lead. The explosion, whatever caused it, has transformed the environment around us into a scene of destruction and chaos. The opulence of the hall, with its majestic columns and high ceilings, now seems distant, and the sound of the screams filling the air is a cacophony of terror and despair.

However, amidst all the confusion, my attention is immediately pulled back to Aria. Who is she really? What does she want from me? Of all places, why is she here?