Call Me Aunt Talia

TALIA POV

The sound of iron grinding against flagstones cut through the silence of the corridor outside my chamber door. It was a rhythmic, heavy scrape. Link by link, something massive dragged across the cold rock, accompanied by the hollow groan of strained metal. The hair on my arms stood on end. Whatever lurked in the dark corridors of this fortress was loose, and the noise was traveling closer with every passing second.

I turned toward the heap of fabric on the stone floor. The wedding gown lay crumpled near the washstand, stiff with dark patches of dried blood and that sickly green stain at the collar. My stomach turned at the thought of putting that cursed shroud back over my skin. Even in a life-or-death situation, I refused to wear a dead woman's clothes.

That left only the scraps Cassian had tossed onto the bed.

I picked up the black lace bra and the string thong, inspecting them in the dim candlelight. The lace was barely wider than a ribbon, sheer enough to show everything, and held together by nothing more than elastic cords. It belonged in a display case or a private bedroom, not an ancient palace where monsters roamed the halls.

I stripped out of the torn petticoat and pulled the black lace over my hips and chest. The delicate fabric fit snugly against my skin, hugging my hips and lifting my breasts. I caught sight of myself in the cracked dressing mirror. My waist looked narrow, my curves sharply defined against the black patterns, but standing half-naked in a drafty bedroom was not an option.

I stepped over to the four-poster mattress and gripped the heavy white linen sheet. With a sharp tug, I ripped it free from the corners. I wound the linen around my torso, knotting it over one shoulder and pinning the fold securely across my waist like a makeshift toga. The hem brushed my mid-thigh, leaving my legs bare, but it covered enough of the lingerie to give me an illusion of modesty.

I moved to the door and touched the brass latch. It gave way with a soft click. The heavy oak swung outward without resistance. Cassian had left the lock undone.

The corridor was long, narrow, and suffocating. Flickering torches set in iron sconces cast erratic shadows over dusty hunting tapestries. The cold draft bit at my exposed calves, but the metallic clatter echoed from the left, pulling my feet forward.

Before I took four steps, a dark shadow detached itself from an arched alcove. A man stepped out into the torchlight, cutting off my path toward the western hall.

My heart jumped into my throat until the light hit his face. It was Corin.

His collar was unbuttoned, his sandy hair unkempt, and the smell of strong pack whiskey hung thick in the air around him. His gaze dropped immediately from my face down to my bare legs, lingering on the edge of the sheer lace peeking out beneath the hem of the knotted sheet. His mouth twisted into a poisonous, familiar sneer.

Corin looked at me with open disgust. "What in the hell are you wearing? Are you already whoring yourself out to my uncle on your first night?"

The sheer audacity of his words hit me like a slap, but the sting evaporated into pure, sulfurous anger. The boy who had spent two years promising me forever while secretly bedding the Alpha's daughter was standing here, trying to shame me for surviving.

I closed the distance between us, stepping directly into his personal space until our noses were inches apart. "I am your aunt now, Corin. Learn some respect before you open your mouth to me."

He flinched backward as if I had struck him. The arrogant bravado vanished from his posture, replaced by the same frantic weakness that had led him to abandon me in the banquet hall.

Corin reached out and caught my wrist, his grip shaking. "Stop saying that. Talia, this whole thing is madness. Tell Lucius you were confused. Tell him you made a mistake and demand exile from the territory. I will find a way to take care of you. We can end this right now before you end up in a crypt like the others."

I snatched my wrist out of his grasp, narrowing my eyes at him. "You had your chance to stand by me, and you chose to hide behind your father's coat. Do not pretend you care whether I live or die."

"Corin? Where did you go?"

A sharp, petulant voice floated down from the eastern gallery. Nadine stepped into the torchlight at the far end of the hallway, draped in a lavender silk dressing gown. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her lips pulled into an exaggerated pout.

Nadine kept her eyes locked onto Corin, ignoring me entirely. "My head is pounding, and the servants cannot find the willow bark tea. You promised you would stay by my bed until I fell asleep."

Corin blanched. His eyes darted from me to Nadine, his jaw slackening in pure indecision. He did not say another word to me. He lowered his head, turned on his heel, and hurried down the hall toward his new mate like an obedient lapdog.

I exhaled a bitter breath, watching him disappear around the corner. The boy was a spineless coward, and every passing second proved that getting dragged to this wretched palace had at least saved me from marrying a traitor.

A loud, hollow smash echoed from the grand gallery, followed by the screech of metal grinding hard against marble.

I pushed the thought of Corin out of my mind and ran toward the west wing. The air grew colder here, smelling of old stone, damp moss, and the unmistakable metallic tang of raw magic.

I reached the grand colonnade on the fourth floor and leaned against a marble pillar, looking down the broad walkway. The breath caught hard in my lungs.

Lucius was moving down the center of the hall.

He wore only dark breeches, leaving his broad chest and back exposed to the freezing draft. Thick sheets of feverish sweat coated his skin, gleaming like oil beneath the torchlight. Heavy iron cuffs were still clamped tight around his thick wrists, but the thick chains connecting them to his bedframe had been severed. Two long sections of dark, pitted metal trailed behind his bare feet, gouging deep scratches into the polished floor with every step.

His posture was unnervingly straight, his shoulders locked, his movements stiff and mechanical. But it was his face that terrified me. His eyes were wide open, staring straight ahead, yet the silver irises were completely vacant. They looked like clouded glass, reflecting neither the torch flames nor the walls around him.

He was trapped in a sleepwalking trance, oblivious to the world, and he was marching with deliberate, unbroken speed toward the open archway at the end of the corridor.

Beyond that stone archway lay the high terrace. It was a decorative stone balcony with a low carved balustrade, hanging four stories above the jagged rocks of the inner courtyard.

Panic surged through my chest, cold and sharp.

I ran forward, my bare feet slapping against the stone. "Lucius! Stop!"

He gave no sign of hearing me. The heavy chains clattered behind him as his long strides ate up the distance. He was fifteen feet from the open arch.

I sprinted ahead of him, skidding to a stop and planting my feet firmly between him and the terrace. I threw both hands against his chest, trying to push him back. His skin was burning, radiating an unnatural, stifling heat that felt like a furnace, but his body was an unyielding wall of muscle.

I pushed with all my weight, shouting into his blank face. "Lucius, wake up! Look at where you are!"

He did not even blink. His momentum did not slow by an inch. With a careless sweep of his chained forearm, he caught me across the shoulder and tossed me aside as if I were a dry leaf caught in a gale.

I tumbled across the floor, scraping my knee against the stones. The knotted sheet loosened, slipping down my collarbone, but I scrambled back onto my feet without pausing to fix it.

He was five feet from the ledge. Three more steps, and his weight would carry him right over the stone railing. The fall would smash his skull against the courtyard flagstones before his wolf could even register the impact.

There was no time to find a guard. There was no time to pull him back with my bare hands.

I lunged forward, throwing myself into his path once more. I reached up, grabbed both sides of his fever-hot jaw with my hands, and slammed my mouth against his.

His lips were dry, scorching, and hard as stone. For half a heartbeat, nothing happened. His body kept pressing forward, pushing me back toward the cold night air rushing in from the terrace.

Then, his entire frame shuddered.

A deep, tectonic vibration started in his chest. The dead, glassy haze over his eyes shattered in an instant, the cloudy silver flaring into a brilliant, predatory light that seemed to burn straight into my skull. The slumbering beast inside him had broken through the fog.

The dull groan in his throat warped into a ravenous, possessive growl.

Before I could pull away, his massive hands locked onto my waist like iron bands. He lifted me off my feet, spun my body around, and slammed my back flat against the cold stone wall beside the archway. The breath left my lungs in a sharp gasp.

The knotted sheet caught on the sharp edge of an iron wall sconce. With a tearing sound, the white linen pulled free and slid down my body, pooling on the floor around my ankles.

I was pressed against him wearing nothing but the sheer black lace bra and the string thong. His bare, sweat-slicked chest crushed against my breasts, the heat of his skin searing right through the delicate fabric.

Lucius did not hesitate. His mouth came down on mine with a feral hunger that stole every coherent thought from my mind. He parted my lips with his tongue, tasting me deeply, claiming the space with a possessiveness that made my head spin. His right hand slid from my waist down to my hip, his thick fingers digging into the bare curve of my thigh to pull me tighter against his groin.

I felt the hard, heavy ridge of his arousal pressing firmly against my lower stomach through his breeches. The friction sent a jolt of liquid heat straight between my thighs.

He tore his mouth away from mine, breathing raggedly against my skin as his lips trailed down my jawline. His teeth grazed the hollow of my throat, pressing firmly against the sensitive curve where a wolf's mating mark belonged.

Deep inside my chest, something ancient and dormant snapped awake. My inner wolf threw her head back and let out a wild, answering howl. The bond clicked into place with terrifying clarity. He was not just an Alpha, and he was not just my ex-boyfriend's terrifying uncle.

He was my fated mate.

"WHAT IN THE MOON GODDESS'S NAME IS HAPPENING OUT HERE?"

The screech cracked through the gallery like lightning.

Lucius froze. His teeth remained pressed against my pulse point for one more agonizing second before the fog of the trance finally cleared from his eyes.

I gasped for air, leaning against the cold stone as I looked down the long corridor.

Lady Callista stood fifteen paces away, flanked by four royal guards with drawn steel. She wore an elaborate midnight-blue dressing robe, her pale face contorted into an expression of unbridled fury.

Her sharp eyes darted from my bare body to the broken linen on the floor, and then straight to the heavy iron cuffs still locked around her son's wrists.

I raised a hand to push Lucius back, trying to steady my breathing. "He was sleepwalking toward the balcony. He was going to fall."

Lady Callista did not look at the terrace. She marched forward, pointing a trembling, ring-covered finger directly at the severed chains dangling from Lucius's arms.

Her voice dropped to a venomous hiss. "Those restraints are forged from blessed iron and anchored to the stone foundations of the master bedchamber. No wolf can break them through brute force alone. The master clasps have been opened."

I shook my head, pulling my hands tight against my chest. "I did not unlock anything. I heard the noise from my room and followed it."

"Liar!" Lady Callista snapped, turning to the captain of the guard. "She is a spy planted in our midst. She unlocked the master clasps to lure the Alpha over the balcony, and when she realized she could not shove him over the edge, she used her body to stage a rescue!"

Lucius looked down at his own wrists. He lifted the heavy iron cuff, staring at the cleanly unlocked master mechanism, and then his gaze shifted down to his bare hands, which were still resting against my bare waist.

He pulled his hands back sharply, recoiling from me as if my skin had scorched him.

His eyes swept over the low balcony wall, the sheer four-story drop into the rocky darkness, and then returned to my face. His silver irises were completely clear now, but they were darker than before, filled with a lethal intensity.

Lucius spoke in a low, gravelly rasp. "In seven years of this curse, no living soul has ever broken the trance before it ran its course. No potion, no spell, and no violence has ever pulled me back."

"Because she orchestrated the entire incident!" his mother screeched, stepping beside him. "She came from the border packs with no pedigree and no history! She was brought here to destroy the Ravencroft line from the inside, Lucius! Look at her! She stands in the gallery half-naked, seducing you before the blood on the wedding stones is even dry!"

The confusion on Lucius's face hardened into stone. The fever that had burned on his skin seemed to freeze over, transforming into an impenetrable barrier of cold authority.

He stepped back, crossing his arms over his broad, sweat-streaked chest. "Who are you? Who sent you to this palace?"

I gripped the wall behind me, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Nobody sent me here. I am an ordinary bartender from Ashcreek. I came to the northern territory because Corin lied to me, and you took me as a replacement bride. I saved your life tonight."

His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his dark stubble. His eyes were devoid of the wild heat that had consumed us only moments before.

Lucius looked at me with cold finality. "I don't believe a word. Everyone back to their quarters. I will deal with this tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and strode back down the grand corridor, the broken chains dragging across the stone floor behind him until the shadows swallowed him whole.

Lady Callista glared at me, her eyes promising retribution, before she and the guards marched after him, leaving the hallway utterly empty.

I sank down against the freezing wall, gathering the ruined linen sheet around my trembling body. My lips were swollen and throbbing from his bite. My skin still burned where his rough fingers had held me tight against his hips.

And in the dead quiet of the palace, the terrifying truth settled heavy in my gut. Lucius Ravencroft was my fated mate, he believed I was an assassin, and this bond was going to destroy me.