"Rejected by My Alpha, Claimed by the King" Chapter 4

Night falls early over Black Hollow.

Snow buries the outer courtyards in silence. Inside the old royal infirmary, only one candle remains lit beside Anastasia's bed.

The healers enter quietly, leave quietly, like she already becomes something ghostlike inside the territory.

Anastasia sits near the window wrapped in heavy blankets, staring out at the frozen cliffs beyond the palace walls. She has not tried shifting again; she cannot survive hearing nothing answer that many times. The silence where her wolf used to be feels worse than pain.

----

A soft knock lands against the door. Anastasia does not move.

The door opens anyway, and Kaelen steps inside.

The room changes immediately. Not emotionally—physically. The damaged bond reacts the second he enters, and pain flashes sharply beneath Anastasia's ribs.

Kaelen stops walking at once. His wolf surges toward her instantly—relief, possession, need—but the man himself looks exhausted. Dark circles hollow beneath his eyes now. His ceremonial clothes are gone, replaced by a black shirt hanging half-open at the throat. Fresh claw marks rake across his collarbone.

Self-inflicted. His wolf is fighting him physically now.

Neither of them speaks. Snow taps softly against the windows.

Kaelen finally says, "The healers told me you stopped eating."

Anastasia keeps looking outside. "You publicly rejected me, now what is this?"

His jaw tightens. "That's not what I meant."

A hollow laugh escapes her. "Really?"

Kaelen takes another step closer. The bond pulses weakly—wrong, damaged, like a dying heartbeat. His wolf presses harder toward the surface at the sight of her.

Anastasia notices immediately. Of course she does. His wolf still wants her desperately, and that almost makes everything crueler.

Kaelen stares at her face too long. Too pale now. The silver fractures spread faintly beneath the candlelight, and her hands shake slightly around the blanket.

Something violent twists across his expression. Anger. Not at her, but at the sight of her, like seeing her broken physically irritates something primal inside him.

His wolf reacts first—protect her, fix this, touch her. Kaelen clenches his jaw hard enough to flex.

"I told them to keep the room warmer."

Anastasia finally looks at him. "What are you angry about?"

Kaelen frowns slightly. "What?"

He cannot explain it. He cannot explain why seeing her trembling beneath blankets makes something savage inside him want to tear the entire territory apart.

So instead he says roughly, "You look terrible."

Anastasia smiles faintly. There is nothing warm left in it now. "That usually happens after public executions."

Kaelen flinches—tiny, but still there. Anastasia notices that too. Good.

The silence stretches again. Then Kaelen moves closer slowly, carefully, like approaching an injured animal.

His hand lifts toward her face before he seems fully aware he is doing it.

Anastasia recoils instantly. The reaction happens on instinct—fast, sharp, terrified.

Kaelen freezes. The room goes completely still, his hand remaining suspended in the air between them.

Anastasia realizes what she does one second later. Too late.

The damage lands visibly across Kaelen's face. The first real crack of guilt.

His hand lowers slowly. Anastasia looks away first.

Kaelen stares at her for several seconds. "You think I'll hurt you?"

Anastasia says nothing. Silence answers for her.

Kaelen takes one slow step backward. His wolf reacts violently to the distance, a low growl vibrating briefly through his chest. He ignores it.

"I never touched you before unless you wanted me to."

Anastasia grips the blanket tighter. "That's supposed to make me better?"

"No." Kaelen drags one hand across his face roughly. "I don't know what's supposed to make you better."

The honesty slips out unexpectedly. They both hear it. Kaelen looks away first.

The candle beside the bed flickers softly while outside, wolves howl somewhere beyond the cliffs.

Anastasia suddenly realizes something terrifying: she does not belong here anymore.

Not in this room. Not in this palace. Not in Black Hollow.

Anastasia looks at him carefully. Still giving orders. Still speaking like she belongs under his protection after he destroys her in front of the territory.

She wraps the blanket tighter around herself, "I already lost my wolf," she says to herself. "I'm not losing myself too."

Kaelen stares at her. The bond pulses weakly between them—broken, bleeding, dying slower than both of them want.

The conversation ends there. He turns away and walks out.

After Kaelen leaves the infirmary, after the candle burns halfway down, and after the palace quiets into sleeping silence—

Anastasia quietly pulls an old leather travel bag from beneath her bed.

And starts packing.

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