Chapter 18: The Heat of the Full Moon

Valerius’s POV

I held her fragile structure tightly against my bare chest, turning toward my Beta with an absolute, frantic terror darkening my eyes.

"What is fracturing her system?!" I roared into the space.

Barrett rushed across the pavilion floor. The exact micro-second his fingers made physical contact with her skin, a sharp gasp escaped his lips, his eyes widening in realization. "She has entered her heat! The fated bond is forcing her internal temperature to a terminal threshold. We must cool her blood immediately. Carry her to the master wing now—I will secure the ice vaults!"

He turned on his heel, moving at an ungodly velocity as he bolted from the training pavilion. I glanced down at Freya; she offered a single, urgent nod of confirmation.

We broke into an absolute sprint, navigating the grand corridors toward my private quarters. I slammed through the threshold, dragging her into the master bath and activating the taps to fill the porcelain tub with freezing water.

The moment the basin reached its midway point, I stepped inside, lowering her writhing, burning form into the water. I submerged my own body beside her structure, anchoring her spine against my chest, completely indifferent to the icy bite of the liquid against my skin.

Barrett burst into the suite, dumping a massive avalanche of pure ice directly into the tub surrounding Aurelia. The sudden shock caused a sharp, strangled gasp to rip from her lungs. It completely dismantled my sanity to witness her in such unmitigated torment, my hands entirely paralyzed save for the tight, protective embrace I maintained around her waist. The supernatural sparks of my touch acted as a subtle, primitive sedative, bringing a fraction of relief to her burning skin.

At least my beast is executing one correct baseline,

Owen growled anxiously.

Suddenly, a secondary, more cataclysmic wave of physical agony ripped through her nervous system, and a ragged shriek tore from her throat as a fresh torrent of heavy tears traced a path down her beautiful face. I despised this helplessness. I fiercely loathed the reality of her torment. This marked the absolute first full moon since my fated canines had carved our halfway bond into her skin, and a bitter regret whispered that my pride should have waited for a more stable alignment—though my soul could never regret claiming her flame, for my devotion to her existence was absolute, even if her own heart refused to harbor the same love for my crown.

"Va... Valerius... please... make the boiling... make it stop!" she pleaded hysterically, her voice fracturing into raw whispers.

I possessed zero power to extinguish the biological fire; my presence could only dull the sharpest edges of the fever, and the realization made a dangerous, volatile anger burn in my gut. "I am sorry, little bird... I am so deeply sorry," I repeated in an indistinct, raw murmur against her temple.

Her fingers scrambled through the water, locking into the wet fabric of my shirt with a desperate, unyielding strength. She forcefully driven her back against my torso, seeking the grounding alignment of our fated bond until our wet bodies were pressed completely against one another.

As she pushed her curves closer, demanding the cool touch of my skin, a sudden, primitive surge of heat ignited within my own bloodline, and I could do absolutely nothing to suppress the physical response her touch extracted from my frame. A low, ragged groan escaped my throat. Suddenly, a massive wave of agony hit her system, and she squeezed my hand with such a savage, crushing force that the distinct cracking of my own bones echoed off the marble walls. I simply locked my jaw, absorbing the injury without a sound; her spirit was navigating a far more torturous labyrinth than a fractured hand, so I ruthlessly ignored the pain. I wove my uninjured fingers through the heavy, wet brown waves of her hair, smoothing the strands away from her face.

Her brilliant blue eyes fluttered open, staring down at my features through a glaze of pure exhaustion. I barked a quiet command to Barrett, instructing his hands to submerge a secondary reserve of ice into the basin. The moment the fresh frost hit the water, a visible relaxation finally smoothed the rigid lines of her posture. The volatile currents of the fever were finally beginning to mellow into a shallow baseline.

But my calculations were entirely foolish. The biological storm only intensified, dragging our systems through hours of unmitigated supernatural torment.

By the time the final echoes of the fever dissolved into the dawn, her system was completely depleted. Once her fragile form had been transitioned into dry silk garments, she cascaded into a deep, absolute unconsciousness. I carefully lifted her structure, carrying her to the center of the grand bed, before sliding beneath the heavy covers to pull her back securely against my chest. My mind logicalized that she would likely be completely furious with my proximity when the light returned—but that belonged to tomorrow's administrative problems.

I recognized the truth that my actions had deeply fractured her trust by failing to push Lysandra away within the first micro-second of that clearing ambush. I had operated like an absolute idiot. But I was thoroughly prepared to survive whatever calculated vengeance her spirit had structured for my pride; even if she dragged my crown through a literal hell, the torment would be nothing compared to the absolute execution of losing her flame for good.

Aurelia’s POV

My eyelids fluttered open to a severe, radiating ache that consumed every muscle in my frame; I felt distinctly as if a massive tactical transport had repeatedly run over my body throughout the night. The physical toll of that full moon heat far surpassed the baseline of any beating Malakor’s executioners had ever inflicted upon my childhood, even during his most volatile cycles of violence.

Yet, despite the radiating pain, my senses registered an immense, suffocating comfort. I instinctively snuggled closer to the massive reservoir of warmth anchoring my spine—only for a pair of powerful, muscular arms to tighten their hold, locking my structure securely against his chest.

Memory returned in a sharp, burning flash. I bolted upright instantly, a sharp sting of pain flaring across my skin, but I ruthlessly dismissed the physical discomfort, snapping my head around to glare at the sleeping figure beside my thighs. Valerius was resting soundly, completely dead to the world, entirely unaware that my consciousness had returned. I paused, allowing my sapphire eyes a rare, uninterrupted window to simply map the aristocratic lines of his handsome face—the first true look I had permitted myself since the devastating revelation of Lysandra’s betrayal.

The memory of his compliance caused a sharp, suffocating pang to pierce my chest, fresh tears threatening to blind my vision. But I ruthlessly drove the vulnerability back into the dark. I refused to weep. My spirit demanded an absolute, calculated vengeance.

I drew in a massive breath and unleashed a deafening, bloodcurdling shriek straight into the quiet room.

Valerius shot upright with an ungodly velocity, his long limbs becoming so thoroughly tangled in the heavy silk sheets that his momentum hurled his massive frame completely off the mattress, hitting the hardwood floorboards with a loud, resounding thud.

"What in the name of the Goddess?!" he shrieked from the floor, scrambling to orient his beast.

A wild, uncontrollable laughter broke through my chest, heavy tears spilling over my lashes as the sheer comedy of the sight bypassed my armor. It inflicted genuine physical pain to laugh so hard after the fever, but the amusement was far too absolute to suppress. Valerius crawled back onto the mattress, staring up at my form in a brief flash of pure awe, before a deep irritation darkened his features.

"What possessed your mind to execute such an ambush?" he questioned, running a hand through his untamed hair.

"What possessed your rational mind to passionately kiss her lips back in that clearing?" I countered instantly, my voice dropping into a chilling, flat pitch.

An immediate shadow of profound, heavy pain completely overtook his features, his jaw clenching tightly. The raw sadness detailing his face caused my internal bond to clench with an unwanted guilt, but I refused to let his sorrow compromise my stance. I slid off the mattress, wearing nothing but Valerius’s oversized cotton shirt, and marched toward the exit.

The moment my foot cleared the threshold into the grand corridor, a massive shadow converged over my structure. I was driven backward, my spine pinned firmly against the wall as I locked my gaze directly into the volatile irises of Valerius’s inner wolf.

"Please... grant my soul your forgiveness," Owen’s gravelly voice pleaded through our halfway bond, his front paws anchoring my hips as he buried his massive head into the crook of my neck, his lips pressing a desperate kiss directly over our fated mark. "I harbored zero cognitive awareness or control over the mechanisms of his physical form during that ambush. I was completely furious with his compliance! Please... I beg of your spirit... do not execute a rejection."

I suppressed a soft sigh of pure liquid pleasure, but the terrifying reality remained that I could do absolutely nothing to fully resist the intoxicating effects this sovereign held over my system.

"The matter is settled," I whispered softly, lifting my hands to slide through his hair as I pulled his face close. "My wolf registers the honesty clearing your throat. I know you speak the truth."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing in the rich aroma of rain and vanilla before leaning down to nip playfully at his fated mark. I slowly drew my lips over the punctured skin, executing a deliberate, heated suck that extracted a series of deep, guttural grunts of pleasure from his torso. I could instantly register the exact micro-second Valerius’s cognitive mind regained absolute control of his frame; the shift in his aura was absolute. He captured my mouth in a fierce, ravenous kiss, and I seamlessly played along with his desire, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist as he hoisted my weight off the floor boards, entirely caught up in the current of the embrace.

But my calculated strategy of vengeance was operating flawlessly.

He cascaded onto the grand mattress, his eyes wild with anticipation, but moving with a sudden, fluid speed, I ruthlessly flipped our positioning until my structure was straddling his lower torso. I reached down, tearing his cotton shirt completely open down the center to expose his muscular frame. He offered an eager, breathless growl of compliance—if only his arrogant mind possessed a single clue regarding the terminal trap my hands had structured for his pride.

I leveled a brilliant, provocative look at his flashing eyes, slowly descending to trace a path of passionate, heated kisses down the deep crevices of his chiseled abs—noting silently that his physical dimensions had improved to a lethal degree during my isolation. I carved a series of deliberate love bites across his chest before my fingers slid down to slowly loosen his trousers, teasing his senses until his breathing turned completely shallow.

I began a slow, agonizingly provocative grind against his centerline, the sheer intensity of his low moans nearly causing my own wolf to forget the parameters of our vengeance. I ruthlessly forced the memory of Lysandra’s smirk back to the forefront of my mind. The exact second his aura crossed the precipice of absolute surrender, I abruptly slid off his lap, standing tall beside the mattress.

Valerius stared up at my form, his features frozen in a mask of total, unadulterated bewilderment.

"It is now your crown's turn to navigate a fraction of the agony you served my soul," I whispered softly into the quiet room.

I leaned down, biting his sensitive earlobe with a slow, seductive malice, before turning on my heel and exiting the master suite—making certain to slide the heavy iron exterior bolt securely into place from the outside corridor. I sprinted down the grand hallway into my private guest quarters, slamming the door and engaging the secondary locks.

Goddess... that deployment required every ounce of my spiritual reserve. I had bordered on losing absolute control of my own beast. I required an ice-cold shower to cleanse the pheromones from my skin.

Through the thick timber walls, a series of thunderous, magnificent curses echoed from the master suite, followed by the heavy, echoing stomp of his boots navigating into his own bath, the door slamming with enough force to rattle the floorboards.

I let out a quiet, thoroughly self-satisfied chuckle as the water cascaded over my face. My tactical strategy of vengeance was unfolding beautifully.