Chapter 5: Lessons of Obedience

Morning light spilled through the tall windows of Elara’s chambers, casting golden stripes across the bed. She sat at the edge, smoothing the crimson silk of her nightdress with trembling fingers. Sleep had evaded her. Kaelen’s last words from the night before—Tomorrow, your lessons begin—echoed in her mind like a threat she couldn’t escape.

When the heavy doors opened, her breath caught.

Kaelen entered without a word, clad in black leather, his presence overwhelming the chamber like a storm rolling in. A servant followed, carrying a tray with bread, fruit, and steaming tea. He set it on the table and fled quickly, leaving Elara alone under Kaelen’s golden gaze.

“Eat,” he ordered.

Her stomach was knotted, but she obeyed, nibbling a piece of bread, aware of his eyes never leaving her.

Finally, he spoke. “You are not here merely to warm my bed, Elara. A queen must know how to command with silence, how to yield without appearing weak, and how to use her body as both a weapon and a shield.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I never asked—”

He stepped forward swiftly, cutting her off. “You think choice has anything to do with fate?” His voice was low, dangerous. “The prophecy bound you to me. But whether you survive here depends on how quickly you learn.”

Her pulse thundered. “And if I don’t?”

Kaelen leaned close, his lips brushing her ear. “Then this palace will devour you long before my enemies do.”

The shiver that ran through her was equal parts fear and something she dared not name.

He straightened, his gaze sharp. “Stand.”

She rose hesitantly, the silk gown falling against her curves. Kaelen circled her like a predator stalking prey, his eyes trailing from her bare shoulders to her trembling hands.

“Rule one,” he murmured, stopping behind her. “Do not lower your gaze when I look at you.”

Elara stiffened. Slowly, she turned her head, meeting his golden eyes. They burned with authority, but also with a flicker of something deeper—something hungry.

Her lips parted as though to speak, but Kaelen closed the distance. His hand caught her chin, forcing her gaze to remain locked on his. He leaned closer until she could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Good,” he whispered. “Do not look away.”

Her body trembled, her heart hammering. She wanted to defy him, to tell him she would never be molded into a submissive queen. And yet, her body betrayed her—the heat that pooled low in her belly, the way her lips parted when his thumb brushed against her mouth.

Kaelen released her abruptly, his jaw tightening as if restraining himself.

“Enough for today,” he said curtly, though his eyes still lingered on her lips. “Dress. Tonight, you sit beside me at the council.”

And with that, he turned sharply and left the chamber, leaving Elara shaken, breathless, and burning with confusion.

The day passed in restless anticipation. By evening, she was escorted to the council hall where Kaelen presided over his generals and advisors. Maps sprawled across the table, voices rose in heated debate, and Elara sat silently at Kaelen’s side, every now and then feeling the weight of his hand resting lightly on hers—a possessive reminder of who she belonged to.

By the time the council adjourned, her head ached from the constant tension. She retreated to the palace gardens for air, dismissing the guards with a small lie about needing solitude.

The gardens were vast, winding with marble paths and tall hedges that muffled sound. The night air was cool, the scent of roses and night-blooming jasmine heavy in the breeze.

She had nearly calmed herself when voices drifted through the hedges.

Curious, Elara stilled, pressing closer to the greenery.

“…the girl is his weakness,” a smooth, familiar voice whispered. Lucien.

Her blood ran cold.

Another voice—male, unfamiliar, shadowed—answered, “Are you certain? He doesn’t strike me as a man who allows weakness.”

Lucien chuckled darkly. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it. My brother, the great Alpha King, finally desires something he cannot simply conquer. The girl unsettles him. You saw it at the feast. His restraint is… uncharacteristic.”

Elara’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

The unknown man murmured, “And you plan to use this?”

Lucien’s reply was silken, poisonous. “Of course. If she bends to me—or breaks under pressure—it will tear him apart from the inside. And when Kaelen falters, so will his kingdom.”

Elara’s heart pounded violently. She leaned too far into the hedge, a twig snapping under her weight.

The voices stopped.

“Did you hear that?” the stranger hissed.

Panic surged through Elara. She backed away from the hedge, heart racing, but the rustle of movement on the other side told her they were already searching.

She turned and fled down the garden path, her silk skirts catching on thorns, her breath ragged in the cold night air.

But as she rounded the marble fountain, a shadow stepped into her path.

Lucien.

He smiled slowly, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Well, well,” he murmured, blocking her escape. “What a lovely little eavesdropper we have here.”