I wake to empty sheets and a jolt of panic—until I spot his note on the pillow:
“Morning training. Stay as long as you like, little moon. Guards will let you pass. —R.”
The simple care tightens my chest. I breathe in cedar and smoke, press the page to my lips, and tuck it beside my moonstone like a talisman.
I pull on last night’s silk and slip through the palace corridors. The harem doors loom. I square my shoulders and step in.
The common room hums—silk, gossip, side-eyes.
“Well, well,” a redhead purrs. “The moon dancer returns. All night?”
“The king was generous,” I say, moving on.
“I’ll bet,” a blonde adds, smile like a blade. “Must’ve done something special.”
Their laughter nips at my heels. In my room, small things are wrong—dress shifted, brush angled. A warning or a trespass.
The day blurs: barbed whispers about “mountain-pack perfume,” a hostile partner in dance, lessons and meals edged with spite. By afternoon, I’m bone-tired.
I escape to the fountain courtyard during rest hour, needing space from the suffocating politics. The marble is cool against my palms as I sit on the edge, letting the water's sound drown out my spiraling thoughts.
"You look like you're planning an escape route."
I glance up to find Lady Vera approaching, an older woman with silver-threaded dark hair. She settles beside me with practiced grace, arranging her skirts carefully.
"Just needed air," I say.
"The harem can be suffocating at first." Her tone is conversational, almost kind. "Especially for those who catch his attention early."
"I didn't ask for it."
"No one ever does." She dips her fingers in the fountain, watching the ripples. "But intention matters little here. Being chosen first, spending the entire night—it marks you as the primary threat."
"To what?"
"To everyone else's ambitions." She turns to study me. "Every woman here was promised glory if the king chooses her. You've stolen that dream simply by existing in his line of sight."
The weight of her words settles over me. "So what do I do?"
"Learn quickly. Make alliances with those who have power but no interest in his bed. The ambitious ones will destroy you if you show weakness."
She stands, smoothing her dress.
"Your dance last night proved you have strength, mountain girl. But strength without strategy is just a beautiful way to die."
She leaves me alone with that warning, and I sit there as shadows lengthen across the courtyard. Everything feels impossible—Ryder's mysterious curse, my connection to the twins, navigating the harem's vicious games.
"You're thinking too hard."
Nathan's voice makes my pulse spike.
He emerges from the garden path, moving with that predatory grace that makes my wolf stir restlessly. His green eyes, marked by that distinctive dark fleck, lock onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath.
"Nathan." I stand, drawn to him despite myself. "What are you doing here?"
"Luca's in meetings with the council. I was restless." He stops a few feet away, hands in his pockets like he's forcing himself not to reach for me. "And I wanted to see you."
"You saw me yesterday."
"That was before." His jaw tightens. "Before you spent the night in his bed."
The words hang between us, charged with something dangerous. I should deflect, should protect what happened with Ryder, but Nathan's raw honesty demands the same from me.
"He didn't claim me," I say quietly. "Not fully."
Nathan's eyes darken. "Why not?"
"He said he wanted me to choose with a clear mind. Without feeling trapped."
Something flickers across his face—surprise mixed with grudging respect. He moves closer, and I catch his scent—leather and pine, wild where Ryder is controlled.
My body responds instantly, remembering dreams where these hands mapped my skin. "And how's your mind now?" His voice drops lower. "Clear?"
"Nothing about this is clear." I laugh, but it comes out shaky. "I have three men in my dreams who turn out to be real. Two are my mates—I can feel it in my bones—and one is the king I've been given to. How is any of this supposed to make sense?"
"Maybe it's not about sense." He's close enough now that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "Maybe it's about what you feel."
"What I feel is insane."
Nathan's hand rises slowly, telegraphing his movement, before his fingers brush my cheek. That simple touch sends electricity racing through me, and I lean into it without meaning to.
"You’re not insane, Carolina. Your body knows," he murmurs. "Even if your mind hasn't caught up."
"Nathan..." His name comes out as barely a whisper.
"I know you're navigating something with him. I know there's Luca, these dreams, everything pulling at you." His thumb traces my cheekbone, and I'm drowning in his touch. "But Coralina, my wolf is going crazy. You're here, in his territory, and every instinct screams to claim you before—"
"Before what?"
"Before I lose you to things I can't control." The words sound torn from him. "Before duty and crowns matter more than this."
His other hand frames my face now, holding me like something precious.
"Tell me you don't feel it. Tell me this pull between us is just dreams and moonlight, and I'll walk away."
"I can't." The admission breaks something in me. "I feel it with every breath. My wolf recognizes you, wants you, even though I'm terrified of what that means."
He leans closer, his forehead resting against mine. "We'll figure it out. All of it. The dreams brought us together for a reason."
"The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes?" I echo his brother's words from days ago.
"Exactly." His breath ghosts across my lips, and I'm burning. "But right now, I just need—"
His mouth claims mine, and the world tilts. This kiss is nothing like Luca's playful seduction or Ryder's slow burn. Nathan kisses like he's staking a claim, like he's pouring three months of dreams and frustration into this single point of contact.
His tongue slides against mine, and I moan into his mouth, my hands fisting in his shirt.
He backs me against the fountain's edge, his body caging mine, and I'm surrounded by his scent, his heat, his overwhelming presence. One hand tangles in my hair while the other grips my waist, pulling me impossibly closer.
When he finally pulls back, we're both gasping. His eyes are nearly black with desire, and I know mine must mirror that hunger.
"I should go," he says roughly, though his hands don't release me.
"You should," I agree, making no move to step away.
He kisses me once more, quick and fierce, then forces himself back. "Be careful, Coralina. Please."
Then he's gone, melting into the garden shadows, leaving me trembling against the fountain.
My lips are swollen, my body is singing with want, and I'm no closer to understanding how I'm supposed to survive when my heart pulls in three directions and each path seems impossible to walk.