He Bled My Wolf For Her, I Bought The Rogue King

"What is that?" Caleb asked, his voice dropping an octave. He pointed straight at the dark gap in the bookshelf.

"Kill him," my wolf, Nyx, snarled in my mind. "Tear his throat out right now."

"Quiet," I told her silently.

I shifted my weight, planting my body directly between Caleb and the hidden wall safe. My hand stayed buried deep in my pocket, fingers wrapped tight around the jagged teeth of the iron key.

"A hidden drawer," I said aloud, keeping my tone flat. "I found it yesterday."

"And why is it open?" He took a step forward. The floorboards groaned under his heavy boots.

"I was looking for my mother's old photo albums." I met his gaze, forcing my eyes to stay wide and innocent. "I thought they might be stored in there."

"Photo albums." Caleb stopped. His jaw unclenched slightly. "At this hour?"

"I told you I couldn't sleep."

"You should be resting. The high priest said your body needs to be at peak condition."

"I know what the high priest said," I countered, keeping my tone submissive. "But the ceremony is in five days. I wanted to see her face. I wanted to feel like she was here with me."

"She is with you," he said smoothly. "In spirit."

Caleb stared at me. The calculating Alpha faded, replaced instantly by the mask of the doting fiancé. He set the steaming glass mug on my nightstand.

"You miss her," he murmured. He reached out, brushing a stray curl from my cheek. "Of course you do. But you shouldn't be digging around in the dark."

"I just wanted a picture of her."

"I'll have the estate staff bring the albums down tomorrow," he promised, his tone smooth and reassuring. "But right now, you need to rest. Drink, Elara."

"I don't want it, Caleb."

"Do it for me," he coaxed. "You look so pale. The honey will help your throat."

"Don't touch it," Nyx growled. "It's laced with wolfsbane. I can smell the root from here."

"I know," I answered her.

I took the warm glass from his hand. The ceramic burned against my cold palms.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Drink it while I'm here. I want to make sure you're taken care of."

"You don't have to watch me."

"I want to," he insisted. "Drink."

I brought the rim to my lips. The sweet scent of honey masked the bitter poison underneath. I tilted the mug, letting the liquid pool in my mouth without swallowing a single drop.

Caleb smiled. "Good girl."

He leaned in and kissed my forehead. His skin felt like ice against mine.

"I have to check the perimeter," he said, pulling away. "The rogue activity near the borders has been increasing. Lock the door behind me."

"Be safe," I replied around the milk in my mouth.

He turned and walked out. The heavy oak door clicked shut.

I sprinted to the bathroom and spat the white liquid into the sink. I turned on the faucet, washing the wolfsbane down the drain. I coughed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Two hours later, the massive iron gates of the packhouse slammed shut. The metallic clang echoed through the silent estate. Caleb was gone.

"He left," Nyx said. "Move."

I grabbed a small flashlight from my nightstand and slipped into the hallway.

The corridor was pitch black. I kept my back pressed against the wallpaper, moving silently toward the guest wing.

Sienna's door sat at the end of the hall.

I turned the brass knob. It clicked open.

I slipped inside and shut the door behind me.

The cloying scent of her vanilla perfume hit my nose, turning my stomach.

"Smells like trash," Nyx scoffed.

"Focus," I whispered to the empty room. "Where would she hide the plans?"

"Check the closet. She's vain."

I opened the double doors of her closet. I rummaged through her designer bags, checking the side pockets. I patted down the pockets of her winter coats. Empty.

I moved to the tall mahogany dresser. I pulled out the top drawer, dumping her expensive jewelry onto the carpet. Gold chains and diamond studs scattered across the floor.

"Nothing," I muttered.

"Check the desk," Nyx pushed.

I crossed the room to the small writing desk. I yanked the drawers open. Blank stationery. A few pens.