POV Luella
"Why?" Kyrell asked, his black eyes studying my face with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "Why did you defend me?"
He really doesn't understand. He can't believe someone would help him.
"Because I knew they were trying to set you up," I replied simply. "I couldn't just stand by and watch it happen."
Even though you're cruel and terrible, you didn't deserve that.
Kyrell just chuckled, the sound dark and bitter. "How touching. But I don't need handouts from my older brother's doll."
Doll? Is that what he thinks I am?
Heat flashed through me at his dismissive tone. My wolf bristled at being called someone's possession.
"I just want to know who needed to ruin your reputation," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Who was behind all this?"
Kyrell's smile turned cruel. "It's obvious who it was. But it seems like you're as stupid as everyone else around here to figure it out yourself."
Stupid? He thinks I'm stupid?
The insult hit me like a slap. My wolf snarled inside me, wanting to show him exactly how unstupid I could be.
He's talking about Tobias. He thinks his brother is behind the plot.
"Oh, forgive me, Your Highness," I said, my voice dripping with false sweetness. "I forgot that your massive intellect makes everyone else appear dim by comparison. How foolish of me to ask a direct question when clearly I should have just assumed that your paranoid delusions about your brother are absolute fact."
Let's see how he likes being talked down to.
I stepped closer, letting my smile turn razor-sharp. "But perhaps the reason no one 'figures it out' isn't because we're all stupid—it's because we're not so pathetically desperate for validation that we need to blame our failures on elaborate conspiracies."
His scent is changing. Getting dangerous.
"Tell me, Prince Kyrell, when did you become so weak that you needed excuses for why people find you insufferable?"
My voice dropped to a whisper, my wolf pushing me to go for the killing blow. "The truly obvious thing here isn't who's ruining your reputation. It's that you're doing it perfectly well yourself, and you're too much of a coward to own it."
There. Let him choke on that.
The change in Kyrell's face was immediate and terrifying. All traces of amusement vanished, replaced by something cold and predatory. In one fluid motion, he pulled a hidden blade from somewhere in his clothes and slammed me against the stone wall.
Oh no. I pushed too far.
The blade pressed against my throat, cold metal kissing my skin. His body pinned me completely, his strength overwhelming despite his lean build.
He's actually threatening me with a knife. My wolf is screaming at me to fight back, but the blade is too close.
"There she is," he murmured, his voice soft and dangerous. "The real Luella. Not the sweet little princess everyone thinks they know, but something with actual claws."
His scent is pure predator now. Dark and threatening.
His free hand traced along my jaw with surprising gentleness, a stark contrast to the blade at my throat. "Tell me, little wolf, did that feel good? Finally letting out all that venom you've been swallowing like a good girl?"
He's not wrong. It did feel good to say what I really thought.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "You want to know when I became weak? I'll tell you exactly when—the moment I started giving a damn what any of you thought about me."
There's something raw in his voice. Something real.
"But here's what's truly pathetic..." His smile turned razor-sharp, matching the blade he held. "You just spent five minutes crafting the perfect insults to hurt me, which means you've been thinking about me. Studying me. Trying to figure out what would cut deepest."
He's right. I have been thinking about him. Too much.
His voice dropped to a whisper that made my skin prickle. "So who's really obsessed here, little wolf? The one who admits his thoughts are consumed by someone he hates, or the one who pretends indifference while memorizing every weakness?"
I am obsessed with him. I watch him constantly. I seek him out even when I shouldn't.
The blade tilted slightly, and I felt a tiny sting as it barely broke the skin. "At least I'm honest about being a monster. You're still pretending to be anything else."
He sees right through me. He knows I'm not the perfect lady everyone thinks I am.
My wolf was torn between fear of the blade and excitement at his proximity. His dark scent was overwhelming my senses, making it hard to think clearly.
This is wrong. He's threatening me. I should be terrified, not... whatever this is.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor, breaking the dangerous moment between us.
"Leave me the fuck alone," Kyrell spat out without looking away from me.
Someone's coming. Thank the goddess.
In one swift motion, he hid the blade and stepped back, releasing me from the wall. I gasped, my hand flying to my throat where a tiny drop of blood marked where the knife had been.
He actually cut me. Just barely, but he cut me.
"Your Highness?" a nervous voice called from down the hall. "The King requests your presence."
Kyrell turned and melted back into the shadows of the corridor, becoming one with the darkness. I could barely make out his retreating figure, but I felt his presence like a weight in the air.
He's leaving. Just like that.
I continued to stare at the spot where he'd disappeared, my heart hammering against my ribs. My wolf was still restless, confused by the mix of fear and something else I didn't want to name.
He was right about everything. I am obsessed with him. I do think about him constantly.
The approaching footsteps grew closer, and I forced myself to compose my appearance. I smoothed down my dress, wiped the tiny dot of blood from my throat, and tried to look like nothing had happened.
But something did happen. He showed me who I really am.
A young servant rounded the corner, looking around nervously. "My lady? Are you alright? I thought I heard voices."
"I'm fine," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Just getting some air."
Liar. You're anything but fine.
As I walked away, I couldn't shake Kyrell's words. He was right—I had been studying him, memorizing his weaknesses, thinking about him far more than I should.
The question is: what am I going to do about it?
My wolf had no answers, only a restless energy that told me this confrontation had changed something fundamental between us. The careful distance I'd tried to maintain was gone, shattered by his blade and his brutal honesty.
He called me a monster too. Maybe he's not wrong about that either.