Testing the Boundaries

I refused to let Magnus’s imposing, massive presence interrupt my daily routine. That meant sticking to my morning mission: stealing one of Nadine’s famous chocolate chip muffins right out from under her nose. I was convinced our head cook and her daughter Tessa had been witches in a past life, considering how impossible it was to slip anything past them.

Having a lethal, silent shadow trailing my every step only raised the stakes.

I crept into the bustling royal kitchen, keeping my footsteps light on the pristine tile. Nadine stood by the massive double ovens, barking orders at the prep staff. She was distracted. This was my window. I slipped toward the marble island where a fresh tray of muffins sat steaming. A soft groan slipped past my lips as I glanced over my shoulder. Magnus stuck out like a sore thumb among the scurrying staff, a towering pillar of dark, lethal energy.

"Do you not know how to be stealthy?" I whispered, shooting him a glare while keeping one eye on Nadine.

In a move that caught me off guard, a thick dark eyebrow lifted above his mask. His obsidian gaze remained locked on me, unblinking.

I turned back, snatched a warm muffin from the tray, and bolted. "Hurry up before I get caught," I hissed over my shoulder, jogging toward the patio doors.

I didn't stop until the cool morning air hit my face and I was safely out of Nadine's domain. I didn't need to check if Magnus was behind me. The heavy, mint and apple scent of his aura gave him away instantly. I strolled down the blooming garden path, picking at the crumbly top of my prize.

"Nadine makes the best muffins, but I hardly ever get any, so I steal them," I said, talking around a mouthful of chocolate. I glanced back at his unwavering stare. "I have to finish it before I get to the gazebo. Tessa is my best friend, but she’d rat me out in a second."

I knew I looked insane, rambling to a giant who never offered a single word in return, but the silence demanded to be filled. After inhaling the last bite, I turned to continue down the stone path.

A heavy, leather-clad hand tapped my shoulder.

I froze. Turning around, I tilted my head back to look up at the giant towering over me. I scowled. "Um, what?" What gave him the right to touch me when I wasn't allowed to touch him?

*He’s your bodyguard, duh,* Zoya murmured in my mind, flashing a very distracting image of those large hands elsewhere. *Unless you want to touch him.*

My breath hitched as his hand lifted toward my face. The movement was calculated, yet strangely gentle for a man of his monstrous size. Before I could flinch away, his gloved index finger brushed the corner of my mouth. A jolt of pure awareness shot straight down my spine. It was over in a flash. He pulled his hand back, and I saw a gooey smear of melted chocolate resting on the black leather of his fingertip.

My cheeks flared with sudden heat. I quickly scrubbed the back of my hand against my mouth to clear away any remaining evidence. Still, a strange sense of victory fluttered in my chest. He had initiated contact.

"Thanks," I muttered, flashing him a quick smirk before spinning on my heel and marching toward the gazebo.

Tessa was already waiting at the white wooden structure, surrounded by vibrant rose bushes. Two servants had just wheeled out a silver cart loaded with finger sandwiches and fresh fruit. I hurried up the steps and dropped into the wrought-iron chair beside her. Tessa’s eyes were practically bulging out of her head as she stared past me. Even as a human, she could easily sense the sheer danger radiating from the man trailing me.

Magnus came to a halt at the edge of the gazebo. He crossed his massive arms over his broad chest, planting his feet in a formal stance. He wore a crisp black button-down stretched tight over his muscular frame, paired with dark slacks. The black mask covering the lower half of his face blended seamlessly with the dark fabric, making him look like a very lethal, oversized ninja.

"So, that's the new security detail?" Tessa whispered, grabbing a cucumber sandwich.

I nodded, popping a grape into my mouth. "That's him."

"Why is he wearing a mask and gloves?" she asked, her eyes tracing his imposing figure.

"I have no idea. He doesn't talk."

Tessa chuckled under her breath. "He looks like he can handle himself."

"He does," I agreed, taking a sip of ice water. "He's massive, even for a Lycan."

Tessa finally tore her gaze away from my bodyguard and leaned across the small table. "So, are you excited for your birthday?"

I let out a heavy sigh, already feeling the familiar dread creeping up my throat. "I'm sure Dad is going to make a massive deal out of it. Throw a huge ball, invite half the continent."

"You should be excited!" Tessa beamed. "It's the best chance you'll have to meet your mate. Guys are going to be lining up around the block just to look at you."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," I muttered, tracing the rim of my glass. "What if I don't want to meet my mate right now?"

"Why on earth wouldn't you? I wish humans had destined soulmates."

I leaned back, feeling the invisible weight of the crown pressing down on my shoulders. "Because it means everything will change. The moment I find my destined mate, my father will step down from his position as the Alpha King. I'll have an entire kingdom to look after. My freedom is gone the second the Moon Goddess decides to snap her fingers."

"You'll do amazing, Cordelia," Tessa said softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "Ruling is in your blood."

I knew she was right, but that didn't make the suffocating pressure any easier to swallow. I needed a distraction. "Now that I have an elite shadow following me, I can actually leave the royal grounds. Let's go get coffee."

Tessa laughed. "We have coffee here."

"It doesn't taste the same, and the cafe in town has muffins."

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in the back of a sleek black SUV. Our older human driver kept shooting nervous glances at the rearview mirror. Magnus rode in the front passenger seat. He had pulled the sun visor down, using the vanity mirror to keep his dark, calculating eyes locked right on my face. I tried to focus on Tessa’s chatter, but my gaze kept drifting to the mirror. I found myself tracking the sharp slope of his cheekbones visible above the mask, wondering what his jawline looked like beneath the fabric.

We pulled up to the local cafe in the center of town. The patio was packed with locals enjoying the late morning sun. Tessa and I grabbed our drinks and claimed an empty wrought-iron table near the edge of the patio. Magnus positioned himself directly behind my chair. The intoxicating scent of mint and apples overpowered the smell of roasted espresso beans.

"Hey, Cordelia."

I looked up. A guy with messy blonde hair and a friendly, boyish face was walking toward our table. I didn't recognize him, but living in the royal territory meant everyone knew exactly who I was.

"Hi," I offered, shifting in my seat.

He flashed a bright, flirtatious smile, stopping right at the edge of our table. "I'm Dalton. We haven't seen you around town in a long time."

I returned his smile, leaning forward slightly. "Nice to meet you, Dalton. Yeah, it hasn't always been safe for me to wander around."

Before Dalton could reply, the air pressure on the patio seemed to drop. Magnus moved. He didn't growl. He didn't speak. He simply stepped out from behind my chair and closed the physical distance between himself and Dalton in one terrifying, fluid motion. Magnus used his sheer, hulking size to eclipse the sun, looming over the blonde guy. His obsidian eyes locked onto Dalton with a cold, murderous intensity.

Dalton’s flirtatious smile vanished instantly. The color drained from his face. He stumbled backward, his eyes darting from Magnus’s lethal stare to me. Without another word, Dalton turned on his heel and practically ran down the sidewalk.

I slammed my coffee cup onto the metal table. "What the hell, Magnus!" I growled loudly, ignoring the stares from the surrounding tables. The first cute guy to speak to me in weeks, and my bodyguard chases him off without a single word. I was furious.

The silent treatment continued all the way back to the royal estate. The moment we walked through the front doors, I marched straight up the sweeping staircase to my bedroom, knowing he was right on my heels. I pushed the heavy oak door open and spun around to face him. He stepped into the room, his expression as indifferent as ever.

"Why even bother wearing this mask?" I demanded, marching right into his personal space.

He crossed his massive arms over his chest and looked down at me, his dark eyebrow raising in a silent challenge.

"What? Do you have a scar or something?" I snapped. I didn't wait for him to react. I lunged forward, my hand shooting up toward his face in a desperate attempt to snatch the dark fabric right off his jaw.

In a blur of motion that defied basic Lycan capabilities, his thick, leather-clad hand snapped up. He caught my wrist mid-air. His grip was an iron vise, locking my bones in place without bruising the skin. My breath lodged in my throat.

He didn't push me away. Instead, he lifted his free hand. He extended a thick finger and wagged it condescendingly right in my face. A low, mocking *tsk tsk tsk* rumbled deep within his broad chest.

I stared into his eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs. Luminescent golden flecks began to swirl dangerously within his dark, obsidian irises. His wolf was right there, simmering just beneath the surface, responding to my challenge. He held my gaze for three agonizing seconds before releasing my wrist and stepping aside, gesturing toward the adjoining door like I was a dismissed child.

I spent the rest of the afternoon burning off my frustration by helping a very grumpy Nadine scrub down the massive royal kitchens. By the time I headed into the grand dining room for dinner, my muscles ached, but my temper was still flaring.

I pushed through the double doors and immediately stopped in my tracks.

My father and Uncle Gideon were standing at opposite ends of the long mahogany table, locked in a fierce, screaming match.

"I am not selling my daughter like cattle, Gideon!" my father roared, slamming his fist onto the wood. The crystal glasses rattled.

Uncle Gideon did not back down. "We are on the brink of war, brother! We need to fortify our treaties. The guest list for her eighteenth birthday ball is the perfect opportunity. Unmated Alphas from the rival territories are coming to vie for her hand. You know as well as I do that a political marriage would secure the alliances we desperately need!"

"She is my blood! The future Alpha King will be determined by the Moon Goddess, not a political bidding war!"

"The other Alphas are only attending to claim her territory. If you don't secure an alliance, they will take her by force once you step down!" Uncle Gideon fired back.

I stood frozen in the doorway. My stomach twisted into tight knots. Unmated Alphas. Rival territories. They were turning my birthday into an auction. I felt Zoya, my inner wolf, push fiercely toward the surface, baring her teeth at the sheer disrespect. We were not property to be bartered for wartime tactics.

I marched into the room, grabbed a heavy water glass from the table, and slammed it down onto the wood. The sharp crack echoed through the massive dining room, shattering the argument.

Both men snapped their heads toward me, their eyes wide with shock.

I let my Alpha aura bleed into the air, thick and commanding. "I don't care how many rival Alphas attend that ball. If they are not my destined mate, I have no obligations towards them," I snapped viciously. "I will play the good host and smile for your guests. But do not forget who I am. Stop treating my future like a chess piece."

My father let out a heavy breath, the fight draining from his shoulders. Uncle Gideon just stared at me, a reluctant smirk pulling at his lips. "You looked just like your mother right there. It was terrifying."

I didn't stay to hear their apologies. I turned on my heel and stormed out of the dining room.

The exhausting meal and the revelation about my birthday only poured gasoline on my already simmering irritation. By the time I reached my bedroom, I was vibrating with pent-up energy. I turned around just as Magnus stepped through the doorway. His unbothered, stoic presence snapped the last thread of my patience.

"What the hell was that today?" I demanded, stomping toward him.

He stood his ground, his dark eyes tracking my every move. His arms crossed over his chest in that infuriating, silent stance.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Why the hell did you chase Dalton away?" I yelled, my voice bouncing off the high ceiling. "He wasn't a threat! You had no right!"

He simply rolled his eyes.

The blatant dismissal sent a wave of hot fury crashing through my veins. "Don't you roll your eyes at me!" I stepped right into his space, raising my hand. I poked my index finger hard and aggressive into the center of his solid, muscular chest.

Before I could blink, his gloved hand shot out with terrifying speed. He gripped my delicate wrist, his fingers clamping down far tighter and firmer than they had earlier that afternoon.

"Don't touch."

The words struck me like a physical blow. His voice was rough, deeply guttural, and laced with a thick, heavy accent. It was eerily calm, yet commanded absolute authority. The sudden, rich sound of his voice instantly sent an overwhelming rush of hot butterflies plummeting directly into my stomach. My anger vanished, replaced by a deep, confusing heat that flushed my skin.

Before I could even process the absolute shock of him speaking a full sentence to me, he released my wrist. He stepped backward through the frame separating our adjoining rooms, grabbed the edge of the heavy wooden door, and slammed it right in my stunned face.

I stood gaping at the closed door, my chest heaving as the scent of mint and apples lingered in the air.

Fuming like a petulant child, I paced across my bedroom floor. My mind raced. Yelling at him hadn't worked. Demanding answers hadn't worked. My aggressive lashing out had only granted me a split-second victory. He only broke his strict, maddening silence because I crossed a physical boundary. He only spoke because I touched him.

*I think we need to change our tactics,* Zoya murmured slyly in my head, her tone dripping with a dark, heavy arousal at the dangerous idea forming between us.

I paused, looking back at the wooden door separating us. A reckless determination settled in my bones. If sheer anger didn't work to break his iron-clad control, perhaps pure, unadulterated temptation would.