Chapter 6 Caelum

• I knew her scent was familiar. Very familiar. My lycan side became so heightened that I thought I might transform right there in the middle of the hall when the waitress appeared in front of us to serve us.
• Seraphina’s jealousy seemed irrational; I know our marriage has felt more like a business partnership than one of affection and love. However, I would never betray Seraphina. Even without children—something we both longed to have—the respect and admiration I have for my wife go beyond any differences we might have now.
• But here she was. The woman who gave me my last night of freedom. I would never forget the mark on her neck, so delicate and charming. As soon as she entered the hall, her scent became prominent above all the other aromas; I even thought it was just nostalgia haunting me once again. The longing for a simpler, happier time in my life, without a cold marriage and without a kingdom on the verge of collapse due to the attacks from the Wolfspawn Renegades.
• As she approached us, flawlessly and masterfully handling the tray, the young woman had aged and changed over these five years. The joyful, mischievous, and playful face I had known at the bar had taken on a serious, cold demeanor that I could barely associate with the woman from five years ago. But the scent… that never changes, the scent does not lie. Even when she appeared frightened by Seraphina’s baseless accusation, her scent remained, above the hormones we release when we feel fear.
• The same is true now, with her on the floor at my feet, frightened by the impact our bodies had. Her heart beats as fast as that of a hummingbird. I could not be sure it was her until I saw the mark on her neck. That beautiful, delicate crescent moon mark that I kissed so many times that night until the sun rose.
• What is she doing here? After five years, what does she plan by coming here? Could it be that my magic that night was not strong enough for her to recognize me as king?
• “You… what do you want, huh?” I ask seriously, shaking off my initial reaction to seeing her.
• If she appeared now intending to blackmail me for having slept together five years ago, her plan will not succeed for even a second. I already have too many problems, and a woman I only slept with once before getting married will not be part of my list.
• “I… I… beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I did not mean to have stained you,” she responds nervously, stammering, pretending not to understand the incident we had.
• I grab her arm firmly, forcing her to stand before me. Her frightened face becomes even more visible as she gets closer to my face. The memory of that night rushes to my mind like a turbulent wave. Her soft, full lips are slightly parted, inviting me to recall our first kiss.
• “Who are you? What do you want, huh? Did you think you could come here and not be noticed by me? Your scent is unmistakable, did you know that?” The words escape my mouth, laden with impatience, almost growled, as my hand grips the young woman’s arm with a force that borders on brutality. I shake her arm, expecting her to respond at once, to explain the reason for her presence in my domain. What the hell is she doing here?
• The waitress’s body shakes like a sack of potatoes, unstable and fragile in my hands. She seems so small, so vulnerable before me, and the realization of this only intensifies the frustration I feel. With her free hand, she desperately tries to maintain her balance, pressing it against my chest, her brown eyes wide with terror, reflecting the brutality of my actions. There is a glint of fear in them that makes me hesitate for a brief second, but the feeling is soon suppressed by the wave of suspicion consuming me.
• “My name is Aria, Your Majesty. Aria, I am just a hired waitress. I apologize for the incident; I should have watched where I was walking, apologies…” Her voice trembles, the words barely escaping her mouth, and there is almost a sob that threatens to escape her throat. Every syllable seems to be a struggle for her, as if speaking were an arduous task in the face of my intimidating presence.
• “Why did you come here, huh? What do you want?” My voice gains a new layer of impatience, the tone sharper, as I tighten my grip on Aria’s arm. I feel the muscles under my hand contract in response to the pain, and I see her face contort with anguish.
• Her expression, a mix of fear and suffering, only fuels my suspicions. She tries, almost instinctively, to push my hand away from her soft arm, but her attempt is weak, almost pathetic. I meet her gaze coldly, allowing my fury to drip like poison, even as a part of me tries to suppress the memories that insist on emerging.
• Years ago, I saw her, not as she is now, but in hazy dreams, visions of a woman who somehow connected to my soul. In those dreams, her presence was enigmatic, shrouded in mystery, and I never thought I would see her in the real world, much less here, inside my palace. The idea that she had the audacity to come here, to infiltrate my territory for… What? To try something? The doubt hangs over me like a shadow.
• “To work, Your Majesty! I apologize,” Aria repeats the same answer, her voice trembling and filled with dread. Of course, she is terrified, and I can feel it in the rigidity of her body, in the way she tries not to tremble too much before me. Her scent, once sweet and familiar, is now mixed with the unmistakable aroma of fear. It is almost suffocating, and at the same time, intoxicating, as if her terror had a physical form that filled the surrounding air.
• Just as I decide to take her out of the palace, a loud crash occurs in the hall behind us, interrupting my movement. The sound is so powerful that I feel the ground shake beneath my feet, as if the very earth were rebelling. A violent blow strikes our backs, like a shockwave that spreads through the room, knocking us to the ground.
• The impact is brutal. I feel the air forced from my lungs as I hit the ground hard, and for a moment, the world around me dissolves into a whirlwind of chaos and confusion. The surrounding sounds become distorted, a mix of screams, howls, and a muffled buzzing that fills my ears, as if I were submerged in water. Pain throbs in my head, a constant pounding that threatens to tear my focus apart, and all I can do is struggle to catch my breath.
• Beside me, Aria is also down, her body stretched out on the cold floor. I see her coughing violently, the dust and smoke around us making it difficult to breathe. She tries to get up, the expression on her face still marked by fear, her eyes wide as she looks around, as if trying to understand what just happened.
• I try to stand, but the world still seems to sway, and my legs feel as though they are made of lead. The explosion, whatever caused it, has turned the surrounding environment into a scene of destruction and chaos. The opulence of the hall, with its majestic columns and high ceilings, now seems distant, and the sound of the screams filling the air is a cacophony of terror and despair.
• However, amid all the confusion, my attention is immediately drawn back to Aria. Who is she really? What does she want from me, of all places, why is she here?