Octavia’s POV
Weeks had passed since I spoke vows that bound me to a stranger, and the castle walls felt like a prison closing tighter each day.
The wedding had been exactly what Darius promised - cold, political, witnessed by servants who looked through me like I was already a ghost. Our wedding night had been gentle, unexpectedly so, but that tenderness vanished with the dawn.
Since then, he hasn't touched me ever again. He never mentioned my virginity nor questioned the absence of it.
"Will you be joining His Highness for breakfast this morning?" my lady-in-waiting asked, her voice carefully neutral.
"Has he asked for my company?" I snapped, already knowing the answer.
Her hesitation spoke volumes. "No, my lady."
I whirled around, my silk morning gown rustling with the sharp movement. "Then why do you ask? Every day, the same question, the same answer. Are you mocking me?"
The poor girl's face went pale. "Never, my lady. I merely thought-"
"You thought what? That today might be different? That my husband might suddenly remember he has a wife?" My voice cracked despite my efforts to maintain composure. She curtsied hastily and fled, leaving me alone with my rage and shame.
I stormed through the castle corridors, my heels clicking sharply against the stone floors. Servants scattered from my path, their whispered conversations dying abruptly when they saw me approaching.
The foreign princess. The unwanted wife. The woman who had somehow failed to capture her own husband's interest. Near the servants' stairs, I caught fragments of hushed conversation.
"Gone again last night," I heard one of the kitchen maids say as I passed the servants' stairs. "Third time this week."
"Shh," another replied. "You know better than to speak of it."
"But the moon's nearly full. What if someone sees-"
Their voices cut off abruptly when they noticed me, both women dropping hasty curtseys before scurrying away. I stood there for a moment, their words echoing in my mind, gone again. The moon's nearly full.
That night at dinner, I studied Darius's face across the candlelit table. He looked tired, worn thin around the edges like a man carrying a burden too heavy for his shoulders. When he caught me looking, his dark eyes met mine with an expression I couldn't quite read, not angry, or cruel, but careful. Like he was holding something back.
"Is everything well with the outer provinces?" I asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between us.
"Well enough," he replied, cutting his meat with precise movements. "There have been some disturbances in the eastern forests. Wild animals, most likely. Nothing that concerns you."
But the way he said it, the slight tightness around his eyes, made me think there was more to the story. I wanted to ask what kind of disturbances, what kind of animals, but something in his expression warned me away from pressing further.
That night, I lay awake listening to the sounds of the castle settling around me. The guilt I carried about Leon, about the lie I'd told on our wedding night, sat heavy in my chest. I had deceived my husband from the very beginning, built our marriage on a foundation of secrets.
What kind of woman did that make me? What kind of life was I trying to build? When dawn finally crept through my windows, I gave up on sleep entirely. I dressed quietly and slipped out of my chambers, needing air, needing space to think.
I needed to feel clean again, to wash away the weight of deception that clung to my skin like oil. Beyond a stand of ancient oaks, I found what I was looking for, a hidden spring fed by water that bubbled up from deep underground, creating a small pool surrounded by smooth stones worn white by countless years of flowing water.
I looked around to ensure I was truly alone, then began to undress. The water was shockingly cold when I stepped into it, but I welcomed the sharp bite of it against my skin. I needed something real, something that would make me feel alive instead of like a ghost haunting my own life.
I had just ducked my head beneath the surface when I heard it, a low sound that wasn't quite a growl, wasn't quite a sigh. I surfaced quickly, water streaming from my hair, and turned toward the sound.
There, at the edge of the clearing, stood the largest wolf I had ever seen. It was massive, easily twice the size of any normal wolf, with fur so black it seemed to absorb the early morning light. But it was the eyes that made my breath catch in my throat, glowing red as ember coals, fixed on me with an intensity that was almost human.
I should have screamed, should have scrambled from the water and run back toward the castle as fast as my legs could carry me. Instead, I found myself frozen, held captive by those burning eyes that seemed to see straight through to my soul.
The wolf didn't attack.
It simply watched me, its massive head tilted slightly to one side as if it recognized me. There was intelligence in that gaze, an awareness that no ordinary animal should possess.
When I shifted slightly in the water, those red eyes tracked the movement with predatory focus, but still the beast made no move toward me.
"What are you?" I whispered, the words barely audible even to myself.
The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of my voice. For a moment I could have sworn I saw something almost gentle in its expression.
Then shouting erupted from the direction of the castle, guards calling to each other, their voices carrying across the morning air.
The wolf's head snapped toward the sound, then back to me for one final, lingering look.
In the space of a heartbeat, it had melted back into the forest as silently as it had appeared, leaving only the whisper of displaced air and the faint scent of wild things.
I climbed from the spring on shaking legs. My heart was hammering against my ribs as I pulled on my clothes with trembling fingers.
Making it back to my chambers without being seen, I couldn't shake the memory of those red eyes, the way they had looked at me with such focused intelligence.
I tried to convince myself it had been my imagination, that fear and guilt had conjured monsters where none existed. But later that morning, as I sat in the great hall pretending to read, I overheard two servants talking in hushed tones near the hearth.
"Prince wasn't in his chambers again last night," one said, glancing around nervously. "Third time this week, just like before."
"Moon's getting fuller," the other replied. "Always happens when the moon's full."
My blood turned to ice in my veins.
Gone again last night, the timing, the eyes… dark as midnight in human form, glowing red in another.
The careful way he held himself, like a man constantly fighting against his own nature. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place with terrible clarity.
Darius was the wolf.
The stories about a cursed prince who transformed into a beast when darkness fell were true. And he had been watching me, studying me, seeing me naked and vulnerable in ways I had never intended.
I had worried about lying to my husband about my virginity, but what was that deception compared to the truth he had been hiding from me?
I wasn't married to a man at all, I was bound to a monster.