Ch2: The Afterkiss

The moment I returned to my room, I collapsed onto my bed, the events of the evening swirling through my mind like a whirlwind. I could almost see Gareth's furious face, feel Callista's icy rage, and hear my stepmother's shrill screams. The entire pack would be buzzing with shock and gossip about the kiss that had stolen the spotlight at their perfect dinner party. Instead of basking in their self-made glory, they were now forced to deal with the aftermath of my defiance. 

I let out a soft chuckle, turning over onto my back. The kiss... My mind wandered back to the moment my lips met the handsome stranger's. He was powerful, almost intoxicating, and the memory sent a thrill through me. My cheeks flushed at the thought of his surprised yet unyielding response. Who knew rebellion could feel this good?

As I drifted into a light sleep, my dreams were filled with images of the mysterious man. I was lost in the fantasy of his touch, the intensity of his gaze when suddenly, the door to my room burst open. Emma's panicked face brought me back to reality with a jolt.

"Elara, do you have any idea what you've done?" she blurted out, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "What are you talking about, Emma?"

"The man you kissed," she said, her eyes wide. "He's the Lycan King. One of the strongest rulers, owning most of the werewolf territories around. Elara, do you realize how dangerous this is?"

Shock rippled through me, leaving me momentarily speechless. The Lycan King? The most powerful of our kind? If I had known, I would never have dared to disrespect him like that. Panic clawed at my insides, but I forced myself to remain calm.

Before I could fully process the gravity of my actions, the door swung open again, and there he was. The Lycan King. His presence filled the room, making it seem even smaller. Emma shot me a worried glance before he ordered her out, his face brooking no argument.

He turned his gaze to me, cold and calculating. "Elara, is it? The daughter of the Great Alpha Kaldir. Oh but he's not so great, is he now?" he began, his tone laced with accusation. "You and your Alpha think you can seduce me to bend to your desires?"

I met his eyes, refusing to show fear. "And is it working, Your Majesty?" I asked, my voice steady.

He scoffed, his lips curling into a smirk. "No, of course not."

"Well then, it proves I was never trying to seduce you in the first place," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. "What happened was my own choice, not a plot devised by my Alpha. And you didn't seem to hate it either."

He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "Interesting," he murmured, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer to him, leaning to my neck to sniff me. His proximity made my heart race, and I felt a hot sensation where his fingers laced, but I held my ground. "You're wolfless, weak by all standards, yet you stand here so defiant. Why?"

I squared my shoulders, pushing him away from me. "What do you want from me?" I demanded, my voice stronger than I felt.

A menacing smile spread across his face, his eyes glowing an electric blue that sent shivers down my spine. "Patience, Elara. Good things take time," he said, caressing my cheek, his tone filled with a promise that felt more like a threat. My heart raced, a mix of excitement and terror coursing through me. The heat of his proximity was intoxicating, sending waves of vulnerability crashing over my resolve.

At that moment, the door creaked open again, and Alpha Gareth entered, his face a mask of controlled fury. The Lycan King turned to him, his expression instantly transforming into one of cold menace.

Gareth's gaze flickered to me, then back to the King. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing slightly. And the look in his eyes was anything but respectful.

As the king left the room, I felt a strange mix of dread and exhilaration. I had stood up to the most powerful Lycan, and somehow, I had survived the encounter. But the King's words echoed in my mind, a chilling reminder of the danger that still loomed. I had no idea what the future held, but one thing was certain – my life had changed forever.

Gareth's face was a storm of rage as he slammed the door to my room closed. I had barely a moment to collect myself before he started shouting, his voice echoing off the walls.

"Do you have any idea what you've done, Elara?" he bellowed, his eyes blazing. "This could cost us the King's protection! We need him to defend us from the recent attacks, and now, because of your little scheme, he might refuse!"

I stood my ground, my own anger rising to meet his. "Maybe if you'd listen to me about training our warriors and updating our battle strategies, we wouldn't need the King's protection," I shot back. "We're only being taken advantage of because of your poor planning and outdated methods."

He sneered, stepping closer, his presence towering over me. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're weak, Elara. You don't have a wolf. You're nothing but a liability."

I felt a surge of defiance. "I know exactly what I'm talking about," I said, my voice steady. And I did. I had always had this gift. With it, I can create the most effective strategies against our enemies. I see their tactics, their movements, through my visions and dreams. I can visualize every move they make, like pieces on a chessboard. I had always been known for my paintings. But my paintings aren't just art—they're maps, strategies, plans. Every stroke tells a story, every color a code.

They don't believe that I can protect this pack with a paintbrush. Because it's not about physical strength, it's about intelligence and strategy. To me, this is all a game of chess. Each pawn, each knight, each queen has a role. If we play our pieces right, we can beat them with minimal losses. But you won't trust me. You can't see beyond your own pride and stubbornness. But no one knew of my ability, mostly because no one cared to listen. But I knew what was wrong with our defenses, our training, and our attack.

Gareth's face contorted with fury. "If we lose this deal because of you, I will make your life a living hell," he spat, his voice low and menacing.

I can't help that he's too stupid to trust his own mate.

For a moment, he seemed taken aback by my boldness, but the anger quickly returned. "Get out of my sight," he growled, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. "And pray that the King is more forgiving than I am."

I watched him storm out, the door slamming shut behind him. My heart was pounding, but I felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

As the adrenaline began to fade, I looked around my room at the paintings that covered the walls. Each one was a piece of the puzzle, a part of the bigger picture. I knew that my talent was more than just a hobby—it was a gift, a weapon if used correctly.

I couldn't control Gareth's actions, but I could control my own. And I was determined to prove my worth, no matter what it took.