Chapter 58: The flicker of shadows
It has been two days since her father ordered her confinement. Aveloria sat by the window in her chambers, her eyes blankly fixed on the gardens below. The guards stood outside her door, their presence a constant reminder of her confinement. The palace no longer felt like home. The walls pressed in on her, and the room was too quiet. She’d tried sending words to her father, asking him to grant her a presence, but he refused to see her again after the confrontation.
She wanted to believe he was simply angry, that his words had come from frustration, but the image of his eyes flickering black haunted her. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. But she had no proof, and no one would listen to her.
Her fingers tightened around the cup of tea on the table, untouched and cold. Her wolf paced restlessly beneath her skin, unsettled by their isolation. She had too much to do, soldiers to organize, records to review, questions about Lucien’s warning still unanswered, and here she was, caged like a child.
A knock on the door broke her thoughts.
Before she could respond, the door opened. One of the guards peeked inside with a nervous expression. Behind him stood Marek.
Her heart jumped for a moment, both in surprise and faint relief. "Marek?"
He stepped inside, flashing a slight grin that didn’t reach his eyes. The guard closed the door behind them, leaving the two of them alone.
"How did you get in?" she asked immediately.
He shrugged, leaning against the door. "Let’s just say a few coins loosened their tongues. You’d be surprised how easily loyalty bends in this palace."
Aveloria frowned. "You bribed the guards?"
He smiled wider. "You’re welcome."
Her brows knitted together. "That was reckless. If anyone finds out, you could get into serious trouble."
"Then I’ll deal with it," he said casually, walking further into the room. "I wanted to see you. I heard what happened."
Aveloria stood, brushing her gown down. "Then you must know I’ve been confined here. You could help me talk to my father. Maybe you can make him listen."
He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Why would I do that?"
She blinked. "Because you care about the kingdom. Because this isn’t right, Marek. Wanderers are attacking again, and I’m being kept here doing nothing."
He smirked, a shadow flickering in his eyes. Aveloria didn’t miss it. It felt familiar. "I know. I don’t think I want to help you this time."
Her confusion deepened. "What are you talking about?"
He took a slow step toward her. "I like that you’re here, Aveloria. Locked up. Away from them."
"Them?"
He gave a sharp laugh. "Don’t play dumb, Aveloria. You know who I mean, Galen, Theron, even that damned rogue, Lucien. You think I don’t notice how they all orbit around you like you’re their sun?"
Aveloria’s body tensed. "This isn’t about them, Marek. I’m trying to stop a war."
"No," he said, his tone hard. "This has everything to do with them. You treat me like I’m nothing compared to them. Like, I don’t matter."
"That’s not true—"
"It is," he snapped, his voice rising. "You’re always defending them, protecting them, trusting them. You let Galen follow you into danger, you let Theron touch you like he owns you, and Lucien? My goddess, Lucien, you let him into your chambers in the middle of the night!"
Her eyes widened. "You were spying on me?"
"I didn’t have to!" he shouted. "Everyone’s talking about it. The guards, the servants, the whole palace know! You think I didn’t hear? Isn’t that the reason for your confinement? My own mate sneaking around with a rogue!"
"I’m not your mate, Marek," she said quietly.
He froze, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a second, silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.
He took another step forward, his jaw clenching. "Say that again."
"I said I’m not your mate. I haven’t even accepted our bond yet."
Marek’s eyes darkened with something dangerous, anger, jealousy, or maybe something more profound. His voice trembled when he spoke again. "You really don’t see it, do you? I’ve done everything for you. I’ve stood by your father; my family has made many sacrifices for this kingdom. Half of everything Lycanthria owns was born of the sweat of my lineage. I have defended your name even when you didn’t ask me to. And still? Still, you look at them like they’re your world. But you look at me like I am some dirt!"
"You’re being unreasonable," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "This isn’t about favoritism or bonds. You’re letting jealousy cloud your judgment."
"Jealousy?" He laughed again, but it wasn’t amusement; it was bitterness. "You think this is jealousy? I’ve watched you give them everything, your trust, your warmth, and your attention. You barely even look at me unless you have to. You think I don’t notice?"
Aveloria took a small step back. "You’re not yourself, Marek. Maybe you should leave."
"I’m not going anywhere. I am tired of waiting for you to see me." He said through gritted teeth.
His tone shifted, rough and frustrated. He reached out suddenly, his hand gripping her wrist.
"Marek, stop," she said sharply, trying to pull away.
He tightened his hold, not enough to hurt but enough to make her heart race. "You belong with me, Aveloria. Not with them. You were promised to me before any of them even came into your life."
"That promise was broken," she said, her voice rising now.
"What do you mean? I didn’t break any promises! All I have ever done is love you! So why do you push me away so much?!" He shouted.
"Because you betrayed me!" She fired back.
"What?"
Aveloria was losing it. Marek wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know about her past life, how he had chosen Rowena over her, how he had left her to die.
"Marek, you are controlling, and I can’t breathe around you anymore."
His nostrils flared. "You think they’ll treat you better? Galen, with his loyalty that borders on obsession? Theron, who thinks he can protect you from everything? Or Lucien, the rogue who’ll end up betraying you like all his kind do? They’ll destroy you, Aveloria."
She yanked her wrist free, glaring at him. "You’re the one hurting me right now, Marek. Not them."
Her words seemed to sting. His jaw tightened, his face hardening as though something inside him cracked. He moved closer suddenly, grabbing her shoulders.
"Stop lying to yourself. You feel it...our bond. You always have." He said, his voice low but shaking.
"I don’t! I don’t feel anything for you! I don’t want the stupid bond with you!" She said, shoving at his chest.
He caught her wrists again, his grip firmer this time. "Then prove it."
"Marek, stop!"
"Prove it!" he shouted again, his voice echoing in the room. "If you don’t feel anything, then why do you always run? Why do you look away whenever I’m near you?"
"Because you terrify me! And you’re bound to betray me," she yelled, her voice breaking.
That stopped him cold.
He stared at her, really stared, and something flickered across his face. Shock. Guilt. Then denial. "No. No, I would never—"
But she had already shoved him back, her chest rising and falling fast. "You’re not the same person I once knew, Marek. You’ve let your pride twist everything. I don’t owe you anything. Not my loyalty. Not my affection. And definitely not my body."
His face hardened again. "You think you can talk to me like that?"
She straightened her shoulders. "Get out."
He didn’t move. His jaw flexed, anger flashing again. Then, with sudden aggression, he stepped forward and tried to grab her face to kiss her.
Aveloria struggled, pushing at him with both hands. "Stop! Marek, stop!"
But he didn’t. His desperation had drowned out reason. His grip tightened on her waist, his breath heavy.
"You belong to me, Aveloria. You’ll be mine!" He tried pressing kisses on her face.
She finally managed to twist her body and shove him backward with all the strength her wolf could muster. He stumbled a few steps back, shock flashing in his eyes. Before he could recover, her hand came across his face in a sharp slap that echoed through the chamber.
He froze, one hand touching his cheek, his expression unreadable.
"Don’t you ever touch me like that again," she said, her voice trembling from anger and adrenaline. "Get out of my room before I call the guards."
For a moment, he didn’t move. His breathing was uneven, his eyes darting between hers and the door. Then his jaw clenched.
"You’ll regret this," he muttered, his tone low and cold. "You think they’ll always be there to protect you? They won’t. And when they’re gone, you’ll remember what you did today."
"Leave," she said again.
He turned sharply, storming toward the door. The guards outside straightened as he threw it open and stepped out without looking back.
Aveloria stood there for a long time, her chest still rising and falling fast. Her hands were shaking, the imprint of his grip still burning on her skin.
When the door closed, she ordered them to lock it and backed away slowly until she reached the edge of her bed. She sat down, her body trembling now that the adrenaline was fading.
Her wolf was restless, pacing and growling in her chest. It wanted to protect, to fight, but all she could feel at that moment was exhaustion and disbelief.
She buried her face in her hands, trying to steady her breathing. She had never seen Marek like that before, so consumed by jealousy that he’d lost control. The man who once promised her safety now felt like a threat.
Minutes passed before she finally stood and walked to the latrine. She looked at the mirror, her reflection stared back, pale, tense, and angry. She splashed cold water on her face and exhaled slowly.
She turned away from the mirror and walked to the room again. Somewhere beyond the palace walls, the world still burned with danger, wanderers, witches, war, and betrayal.
And now, she realized bitterly, the danger had reached even closer than she thought. Inside the palace walls. Inside her heart.
She remembered the shadow that had flickered in his eyes, just like her father’s. Marek had vowed to make her pay, and she believed him. His anger wasn’t an empty threat. She could feel it. But she wasn’t going to let fear control her.
Not anymore.
She looked out at the night sky, her expression hardening with quiet resolve. Whatever happened next, she would face it. She would uncover the truth behind her father’s strange behavior, the witch’s involvement, and now whatever darkness had taken root inside Marek.
But for tonight, all she could do was breathe and promise herself one thing. This would be the last time anyone ever made her feel powerless.
