Bluebells In The North

The phantom sensation of Kaelen’s hot semen shooting deep into another woman’s cunt tore through Valeria’s lower abdomen like a splash of boiling acid. Her physical body jerked forward, rejecting the sensory invasion. Excruciating pain ripped through every nerve ending, forcing stinging, hot tears to pool in the corners of her eyes. Her fingers spasmed. Her perfectly manicured nails dug fiercely into the scarred wooden surface of the library desk, leaving deep, jagged gouges in the ancient oak.

"That motherfucking bastard," she ground out through clenched teeth, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. She fought a desperate, exhausting mental battle to calm her deeply distressed wolf, Bellona. They were Alphas. They possessed royal blood. They did not cry over men. They especially did not shed tears over a traitorous piece of filth like Kaelen, even if the Moon Goddess herself had dictated he was their fated mate.

Valeria despised the cruel mechanics of the mate bond. Months ago, she had uncovered Kaelen’s treasonous plot to murder her brother. She had fled into the night, seeking refuge in a neighboring pack of werecats. She remembered the border crossing vividly. Kaelen had stood there in the freezing mud, his cock still hard, his body naked and furious, his hazel eyes piercing straight through her soul. She had spat the rejection words at him, demanding her rightful freedom. But he refused. He denied her the basic dignity of a severed bond. He chained them together because he still viewed her as a prized breeding mare, a tool for political power and strong pups.

Because they were true mates chosen by the Goddess, the bond required his acceptance to break. Until he spoke the words, they remained tethered.

Now, these sharp, torturous phantom waves were her daily hell. He was thousands of miles away, yet every time he shoved his dick into someone else, Valeria paid the physical price. The phantom link transmitted the heavy friction, the wet slapping of flesh, the undeniable intimacy of his betrayal. The pain rippled through her body in torturous waves, acting as a brutal reminder that he was fucking some nameless female. It felt as if a jagged blade was thrusting into her flesh over and over again, twisting without mercy.

She choked back a sob, squeezing her eyes shut. Over the past few months, she had learned to tolerate the agonizing spikes of pain. Luckily, Kaelen’s intimate encounters with others were always brief. A few pathetic minutes at best. Nothing compared to their long, exhausting first night together.

Valeria mentally slapped herself the second her mind drifted to that memory. They were done. She silently swore to the Goddess that if he remained stubborn, mate or no mate, she would hunt him down and murder him for her freedom. She would rip his throat out before she ever found herself in his arms again.

Suddenly, two massive, unfamiliar muscular arms wrapped securely around her waist from behind. A broad, hard chest pressed solid against her trembling back. Instantly, the agonizing, stabbing pain in her groin and chest dulled to a faint hum. The phantom sensations of Kaelen’s sex vanished into thin air, replaced by an overwhelming, rich earthy scent of pine and soil.

Hands? There were not supposed to be any hands touching her right now.

"What? Who is this?" Valeria mumbled in sheer frustration. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her blurry vision on the large man standing flush against her side.

"Earth to the maid," a familiar husky voice rumbled near her ear.

Valeria turned her head and found herself staring directly into the face of the brutish gardener she had bumped into earlier in the courtyard. His clear blue eyes watched her intently. His thick brows furrowed together as he scanned her pale facial features, searching for some explanation for her trembling frame. It took her several seconds to regain her bearings. When she did, she pressed her lips into a thin, tight line. Mortification burned her cheeks. He had witnessed her vulnerable weakness. He saw her crippled and gasping over a desk.

She thanked the stars he still believed she was just a lowly Sunset maid. If he recognized her as a royal princess, this encounter would spark a massive scandal across the Northern territory.

"Space to the gardener," she snapped, shoving his heavy arms off her body. She stood up straight, smoothing out the wrinkles in her simple dress. She masked her lingering distress with a defensive smirk. The physical pain from Kaelen was gone, leaving only cold anger in its wake. Previously, Kaelen restricted his pathetic affairs to the dark hours of the night. Now, he was fucking around in the middle of the day. His careless timing had caused her to drop her guard in the library, leading straight to this humiliating situation.

"What was that?" The man ignored her command. He hopped effortlessly onto the top of the wooden desk she had just been using. He reached out, tracing the fresh, deep claw marks she had left on the surface with his large, calloused fingers. "You were out of your..."

"Don't finish that sentence," she ordered, her sharp princess tone slipping through her disguise.

The gardener did not look pleased by her bossy attitude. He slid off the desk, his massive boots hitting the stone floor without a sound. He stepped forward, using his sheer size to tower over her.

"Or what?" he asked. He leaned down, his warm breath caressing her skin. His rich earthy scent entirely enveloped her, drowning out the dusty smell of the ancient library.

He was much larger than she was. He possessed an aura of raw, dominant confidence that regular palace gardeners back in her kingdom never displayed. He looked brutish, unkempt, and wild.

"Or you’ll regret this," Valeria smirked, folding her arms over her chest to create a barrier between them. She pointed her index finger toward the corridor. "The gardening section is that way. Hurry up. Your roses definitely need some work."

"Only because some crazy lady shredded them to pieces," he chuckled. He seemed amused rather than offended by her sudden change in character.

"I heard she only did it because they were that ugly," Valeria retorted. She tried to step backward, desperate to put distance between them, but she hit the edge of the desk.

He bent even lower. He inhaled her scent deeply, pinning his large hands to the desk on both sides of her hips. He smoothly trapped her against the wood. He wore a smug, knowing smile. Valeria’s cheeks flushed a furious shade of red, but she forced herself to maintain steady eye contact.

"No wonder you hate roses when you smell like forest flowers," he murmured. He leaned in so dangerously close that the rough hair of his beard brushed against her sensitive skin. Valeria hated beards. She hated man buns. Those were two styles she despised on men. Yet, deep within her mind, her wolf Bellona remained shockingly quiet. Her wolf was always viciously defensive of their personal space, yet she did not growl at the stranger. She did not bare her teeth. She did not mind his overwhelming proximity.

"Bluebells?" the gardener asked softly.

Their eyes locked. Valeria's heart skipped a beat. No one ever guessed her rare scent on the first attempt. Not even Kaelen had figured it out.

"Look at you," she scoffed, rolling her eyes to mask her shock. She pressed her hands against his solid chest, trying to push him away. He felt like a brick wall and did not move a single inch. "A true master of your trade! You got my scent right. Congratulations. Now, would you excuse me? I have places to be. I am not giving you a medal for any of this."

"Is that why you hate roses? Because they are more exquisite in comparison to bluebells?" he teased her.

Valeria huffed out a dry laugh. "Exquisite? Those weeds grow practically everywhere. They come in every basic color and lack any trace of originality. Not to mention they literally draw blood from anyone who touches them. How can you even compare a common rose to a bluebell? A bluebell is a flower so rare it needs protection. It only blooms once a year in the most secret, hidden places of the forest. Although, maybe you are just one of those men who likes ordinary, easy things."

Her sharp words hit a nerve. A strange flicker of intensity flashed in his clear blue eyes.

"Are we still talking about flowers, feisty maid?" his lips stretched into a slow, dangerous smile.

"I don't know," Valeria raised a brow, holding her ground. "Are we?"

He leaned even lower. His beard prickled her cheek again. The suffocating closeness sent a rush of heat straight to her core. For the first time since Kaelen’s betrayal, Bellona was behaving. Her wolf did not make Valeria feel sick with guilt or disgust. The absence of the mate bond’s toxic hold felt new, intoxicating, and liberating.

But she knew she had to stop this game immediately. It was one thing to pretend to be a maid to gather intel, and it was another thing entirely to risk a scandalous kiss with one of King Draven’s men. She already had a concrete plan of action to survive these trials. She could not afford a foolish mistake. She refused to hand the Northern royal siblings any ammunition to use against her kingdom.

No matter how tempting his lips looked hovering just inches from hers, she knew she could not surrender to the impulse.

Right as his mouth almost brushed over hers, Valeria reacted. She dropped her weight, grabbed his right forearm, and swiftly twisted his arm outward. The sudden martial arts maneuver broke his grip on the desk and sent him stumbling sideways. He lost his balance, his heavy boots scrambling on the stone floor to avoid smacking his face directly into the wood.

Valeria darted away, putting the length of the desk between them. She giggled at his startled, wide-eyed expression. He was clearly the castle’s resident ladies' man, used to charming his way into the beds of local maids. It was time to knock his massive ego down a notch.

"Didn't you know you are not allowed to pick bluebells?" Valeria threw a smirking remark over her shoulder.

She expected him to scowl. She expected disappointment or anger. Instead, he simply straightened his broad shoulders and laughed.

"They don't grow in the North, little maid," the gardener chuckled.

His deep, rumbling laugh caused her breathing to hitch momentarily.

"Too bad for the North," Valeria shrugged her shoulders, feigning indifference. "They are beautiful in spring."

She spun on her heels and stormed out of the dusty library without looking back. She needed to escape before she did something incredibly reckless. The encounter felt exciting, but it was wrong. People often believed royal princesses could have whatever they desired, but the truth was the exact opposite. Her life was a cage of rules and restrictions. Getting involved with a mere gardener was out of the question for a thousand different reasons. It did not matter that his touch had banished her pain, or that he had made her smile sincerely for the first time in months. She left him standing alone in the shadows.

Draven stood frozen by the ancient desk, his eyes locked on the empty doorway where the feisty little maid had just vanished. Her sharp tongue and fiery defiance reminded him so much of someone from his past. She irked him. She challenged him. She ignited a raw, undeniable spark of interest deep inside his chest.

He knew he had to kill that interest immediately.

His fortress was currently swarming with high-ranking females. Women from crucial packs and powerful kingdoms had traveled across the continent to compete for his attention in the Luna Trials. The political pressure resting on his shoulders was suffocating. He still had no idea how to navigate his way out of this arranged marriage nightmare, but he knew one fact for certain: he could not afford to insult any of the noble contenders.

A secret fling with a Sunset maid was out of the question. It did not matter how incredible her bluebell scent was. It did not matter how beautiful her flushed cheeks looked when he pinned her against the wood. It did not matter that his inner wolf, who usually despised females seeking their attention, was currently pacing in his mind, demanding he chase her down the corridor. He had come to the library to search for legal loopholes to escape the trials, not to get distracted by a servant.

He sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. He looked down at the desk. His eyes widened in sheer shock when he registered the thick, crumbling tomes she had left behind.

He reached out and lifted the oldest-looking book. He traced the faded gold lettering stamped across the leather cover: The Luna Trials Guidelines.

Draven let out a low whistle. He quickly scanned the rest of the pile. He counted at least five heavy volumes, all dedicated to the ancient, obscure traditions and marriage laws of the North. The little Sunset maid was not just dusting shelves. She was actively studying the rules of the event.

He knew she worked directly for the Sunset princess. The last thing Draven needed was for that specific royal delegation to uncover a technicality or gain an unfair advantage over the other contenders. He needed to keep the playing field level until he figured out his own escape plan.

Moving with practiced efficiency, Draven gathered all the heavy books into his arms. He would hide them in his secure personal chambers. No one would ever find them there. Furthermore, he intended to study these exact ancient volumes himself tonight. If there was a hidden clause or a forgotten loophole that could free him from this awkward political trap, he was going to find it first.

He stepped out of the library, the heavy books balanced against his chest. As he navigated the winding stone corridors toward the king's wing, he found himself humming. He realized he was whistling one of the annoying, lovesick pop songs he had heard playing on the radio during his drive back to the castle. The cheerful tune was so wildly out of character for the ruthless Northern King that he stopped dead in his tracks. He glanced around the empty hallway, exhaling a deep breath of relief when he confirmed none of his guards were around to witness his foolishness.

Outside the main castle walls, the biting Northern wind whipped across the courtyard. Valeria pulled her thin cloak tighter around her shoulders as she found Soren waiting near the stone archway.

"Just don't be angry, okay?" Soren snorted, rubbing his cold hands together.

He gestured for her to follow and began leading her away from the grand main building where the rest of the royal guests were being housed. He walked toward the isolated, shadowy edges of the fortress grounds. Valeria knew immediately that something was wrong. She did not need him to explain the blatant insult.

"What, did Katerina give me the worst accommodation possible?" she scoffed, her boots crunching over the frozen gravel.

After the disastrous events of the day, Katerina Frostbane’s petty revenge was hardly a surprise. It was exactly the kind of childish behavior Valeria expected from the Northern princess. But as Soren led her away from the warm, brightly lit palace and down a series of dark, crumbling stone passages, Valeria’s amusement faded into disbelief.

They stopped at the base of a very gloomy, abandoned tower. Thick ivy choked the cracked stone walls. The heavy wooden door looked like it hadn't been oiled in a century. It was undeniably the most neglected, freezing part of the entire castle. It was the perfect place to lock an unwanted guest away and forget they even existed during the trials.

Valeria couldn't hold back her reaction. She threw her head back and let out a loud, ringing laugh that echoed off the damp stone walls.

"At least we are not the only ones stationed out here," Soren pointed out, shivering in the cold wind. He offered her a sympathetic smile, trying his best to lift her spirits. He had no idea that her mood had already been significantly altered by a certain blue-eyed gardener in the library.

"Moon Goddess," Valeria gasped, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "Who does Katerina Frostbane hate as much as me to banish them to this dungeon?"

Right as the words left her mouth, a heavy wooden door across the narrow hallway creaked open. The rusty hinges screamed in the quiet corridor.

Valeria turned her head. Her laughter died instantly in her throat. She stared at the woman stepping out of the freezing room. She gasped, her mind struggling to process the familiar face of the woman who would be her neighbor for the entire duration of the Luna Trials.

"I guess that would be me," the woman said, leaning against the doorframe. "Long time no see, Valeria."