Chapter 1 - The King Who Was Never Truly Asleep
For ninety-three nights, Mave had washed the body of a king who could not open his eyes.
And every night, she had lied to everyone in the palace about why she was there.
King Byron had been unconscious for three months.
The royal healers called it a mysterious illness.
The court called it grief.
The servants whispered that sorrow had finally broken him after the sudden death of his older brother, King Riden.
Mave knew better.
Something was poisoning him.
She knew because the same sickness was slowly killing her seventeen-year-old sister, Liv, three floors below in the palace dungeons.
That was why Mave had accepted the humiliating position of night attendant.
Not for wages.
Not for royal favor.
Not because she dreamed of touching silk sheets or walking beneath golden chandeliers.
She had entered the royal infirmary for access.
Access to medicine.
Access to physicians.
Access to laboratories.
Access to anything that might keep Liv alive long enough for Mave to discover who was poisoning her.
The position came with one other advantage.
No one important watched the night attendants.
Kings had bodyguards.
Queens had ladies-in-waiting.
Nobles had servants who competed for the privilege of being noticed.
Night attendants were invisible.
And Mave had become very good at being invisible.
That night, thunder shook the infirmary windows.
Rain battered the palace roof so hard that the old stone walls trembled.
Mave dipped a linen cloth into warm water and carefully wiped the king’s shoulders.
Byron was lying on his back, still as carved marble.
Even unconscious, he looked dangerous.
His jaw was hard.
His dark hair spread across the pillow.
A faint scar crossed the left side of his ribs, disappearing beneath the white hospital cloth.
Mave had seen every inch of him over ninety-three nights.
She had cleaned blood from his wounds.
Changed his bandages.
Trimmed his nails.
Washed his hair when fever made him sweat through the sheets.
She had heard him groan in his sleep.
He had never once opened his eyes.
Which was exactly why she allowed herself to notice things she should not.
He was painfully handsome.
And she hated herself for noticing.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered.
The king did not answer.
“Of course he doesn't.”
She lowered the cloth into the basin.
Then his fingers twitched.
Mave froze.
A second movement followed.
His hand curled against the sheet.
A low growl rolled through his chest.
Not a human sound.
A wolf sound.
His claws suddenly pushed through his fingertips.
Mave's breath caught.
The king's body tensed.
The storm outside thundered again.
His wolf was reacting.
She had seen it before.
During full moons, during thunderstorms, sometimes when certain herbs were placed too close to him.
But tonight the reaction was stronger.
His claws lengthened.
His chest rose sharply.
His teeth pressed together.
Mave reacted without thinking.
She placed one hand flat against his chest.
“Easy,” she whispered.
Power moved beneath her skin.
Warm.
Invisible.
Ancient.
“Easy. You're safe.”
The growl softened.
The claws slowly disappeared.
His heartbeat settled.
Mave closed her eyes.
Only after several seconds did she realize what she had done.
She jerked her hand away.
“Careless.”
That single word carried more fear than any scream.
Because Mave was Holloworn.
A bloodline feared across the northern kingdoms.
Holloworns were not ordinary shifters.
They were something older.
Something the royal families had spent generations hunting.
A Holloworn could influence the wolf inside another shifter.
Calm it.
Agitate it.
Suppress it.
Strengthen it.
And according to stories whispered around dying fireplaces, a powerful Holloworn could eventually control another wolf entirely.
That was why the bloodline had nearly disappeared.
Holloworns had been imprisoned, executed, burned, and hunted.
Children had been killed for the possibility that they might inherit the gift.
Mave's mother had spent her entire life hiding what she could do.
And before she died, she had made Mave swear to do the same.
Never reveal your blood.
Never let anyone see your power.
Never trust the palace.
Mave had broken the first two rules only when Liv was suffering.
She couldn't watch her sister die.
Not after losing their mother.
Not after losing everything else.
She turned toward the basin.
Her mind returned to the pharmacy storeroom.
Liv needed medicine.
A specific vial.
Mave had found traces of it in old medical ledgers.
It was supposed to be stored in the sealed laboratory.
There was only one problem.
Someone had moved the laboratory key.
She had until sunrise.
She filled a small bottle with clean water, tucked it beneath her apron, and glanced back toward the king.
His eyes remained closed.
She exhaled.
Then his hand shot out.
It closed around her wrist.
Hard.
Mave's heart slammed against her ribs.
King Byron's eyes opened.
Not slowly.
Not hazily.
They snapped open with the precision of a predator waking from a trap.
His eyes were blue.
Then, within seconds, they turned gold.
Mave forgot how to breathe.
The king stared directly at her.
“I know your secret.”
His voice was rough from months without speaking, but it was unmistakably strong.
Mave stared.
“You're confused, Your Majesty.”
“I have been awake enough to listen for two weeks.”
Her blood went cold.
His thumb rested over her pulse.
“You talk when you think no one can hear you.”
Mave tried to pull away.
He did not let her.
“You talk about your sister.”
“Stop.”
“Cell block seven.”
Her face drained of color.
“The fourth door on the left.”
“Stop.”
“Seventeen years old.”
Mave's nails dug into his hand.
“Please.”
“Accused of theft.”
Her stomach dropped.
“But that isn't why she's imprisoned.”
Mave stared at him.
She didn't know what frightened her more.
That he was awake.
Or that he knew.
Byron released her wrist.
Mave stepped backward.
“What do you want?”
His expression changed.
For the first time, she saw the exhaustion beneath his authority.
“She has the same poison in her blood that I do.”
Mave went still.
“What?”
Byron slowly pushed himself upright.
The effort was brutal.
His muscles shook.
His face tightened.
But he refused to lie down.
“I believe the poison killed my brother.”
“King Riden?”
“Yes.”
“But they said he died in his sleep.”
“He did.”
“That doesn't mean—”
“My brother was twenty-nine years old.”
Byron's voice became colder.
“He could run ten miles before breakfast. He could fight three trained guards without breathing hard. His heart was stronger than mine.”
Mave said nothing.
“Then one morning, he was dead.”
“What about an autopsy?”
“No poison was found.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because mine almost killed me too.”
He leaned forward.
“Three months after my brother's death, I became ill.”
Mave remembered the first week.
The king had suffered fever.
Then weakness.
Then seizures.
The royal healers had declared it grief.
Byron continued.
“They didn't want me dead.”
Mave frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because two dead kings in six months would have looked suspicious.”
Understanding began to crawl through her.
“They need you alive.”
“Yes.”
“And helpless.”
“Yes.”
“So they can rule through the council.”
“Exactly.”
Mave studied him.
The pieces were beginning to fit.
An incapacitated king was convenient.
A dead king was dangerous.
If Byron died, the succession laws would force a public power struggle.
If Byron remained unconscious, certain people could quietly run the kingdom.
“Who?” she whispered.
Byron's gaze sharpened.
“I don't know yet.”
“But you suspect someone.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Chief Counselor Colin Vale.”
Mave swallowed.
“Because?”
“My brother hated him.”
“That isn't evidence.”
“No.”
Byron looked toward the door.
“But this may be.”
He pointed toward the table.
“The chief healer replaced my water jug yesterday.”
Mave looked at the jug.
“Petra?”
“She told you she was checking my fever.”
“She does every day.”
“Yesterday she stayed longer.”
“Did you see her change the water?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
“I smelled it.”
Mave blinked.
“You smelled poison?”
“Not exactly.”
Byron rubbed his temple.
“My wolf is reacting differently.”
Mave understood immediately.
Shifters experienced poisons differently.
Some sensed danger through scent.
Others through their wolves.
“And you think Petra poisoned it?”
“I think Petra knows more than she admits.”
Mave picked up the jug.
It was lighter than it should have been.
“How do you know it isn't harmless?”
“Because I tasted it.”
Mave stared at him.
“You what?”
“I drank some.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Her eyes widened.
“You are insane.”
“Probably.”
“And still alive.”
“Barely.”
She looked at the king as if he had lost his mind.
“You were unconscious for three months.”
“Most of that was an act.”
“What?”
“They expected me to be helpless.”
Byron lowered his voice.
“So I became helpless.”
Mave's mouth went dry.
“You pretended?”
“After I realized the medicine they gave me was keeping me weak.”
“Why didn't you expose them?”
“Because I had no proof.”
“And now?”
“Now I have you.”
She stiffened.
Byron held her gaze.
“I need someone no one suspects.”
“You want me to spy for you.”
“I want an alliance.”
“Between the king and the woman he just threatened?”
“Yes.”
“That isn't an alliance.”
“It can become one.”
“You could execute me.”
“Yes.”
“For being Holloworn.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you haven't.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you saved me tonight.”
Mave looked down at her hands.
Byron's gaze followed.
“You stopped my wolf.”
She said nothing.
“That makes you valuable.”
“You're blackmailing me.”
“I prefer mutual necessity.”
“I don't.”
“Most people being blackmailed don't.”
She almost laughed.
Almost.
Then the palace bell rang once.
A guard passed outside.
Byron instantly collapsed back onto the bed.
His eyes closed.
His breathing slowed.
His body became limp.
Mave stared.
The transformation was perfect.
The door opened.
Captain Ainsley entered.
“Any change?”
Mave turned calmly.
“None.”
Ainsley looked at the king.
Then at Mave.
“The Chief Counselor wants daily reports.”
“Tell him His Majesty remains unchanged.”
Ainsley nodded.
“What about the fever?”
“Stable.”
“Has he moved?”
“Only when I reposition him.”
“Has he spoken?”
“No.”
Ainsley watched her for a second longer.
Then left.
The door shut.
Silence returned.
Byron opened one eye.
“Colin.”
“Very suspicious.”
“Yes.”
“You trust no one.”
“Not anymore.”
Mave walked back to the bedside.
“If I help you, Liv goes free.”
“Yes.”
“She receives treatment.”
“Yes.”
“I get access to the royal physicians.”
“Yes.”
“And if I discover who is poisoning you?”
Byron's eyes hardened.
“Then we decide what justice looks like.”
Mave nodded slowly.
“Fine.”
His brows lifted.
“Fine?”
“I'll help.”
“Then you agree?”
“I agree to temporary mutual necessity.”
A faint smile appeared.
Mave pointed at him.
“Don't look pleased.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were.”
“I was considering smiling.”
“Try it and I'll add poison to your next bath.”
Byron almost laughed.
It was the first sound resembling amusement Mave had heard from him.
For one dangerous second, the king didn't look like a king.
He looked like a man.
Then his face became serious again.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“Someone has been entering this room at night.”
Mave's skin prickled.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how do you know?”
“I smelled wolfbane.”
Mave stiffened.
Wolfbane was not a medicine.
It was a hunting herb.
Used by people who specialized in killing shifters.
“That's impossible.”
“I know.”
“What does wolfbane mean?”
“It means whoever is after me doesn't intend to let me recover.”
Mave glanced toward the door.
“Then we need proof.”
“Yes.”
She poured a small amount of water into a cup.
Byron watched.
“What's that?”
“We test it.”
“How?”
Mave looked at him.
“You drink it.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“You called my last idea stupid.”
“It was.”
“And yours isn't?”
“Mine is smarter.”
“Explain.”
“You have already been exposed to the poison.”
She smiled thinly.
“I haven't.”
Byron stared.
Then slowly smiled.
“Perhaps this is why I chose you.”
Mave handed him the cup.
He drank.
At first, nothing happened.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Then his pupils widened.
His fingers tightened around the sheets.
His breath caught.
“Metallic,” he whispered.
Mave froze.
“Where?”
“Chest.”
“Pain?”
“Yes.”
His wolf surged.
His claws appeared.
“Byron.”
“Don't stop.”
Mave placed both hands on his chest.
Power exploded through her.
His wolf slammed against her mind.
It was enormous.
Terrifying.
Wild.
And yet beneath all that power was something wounded.
Something afraid.
Mave reached deeper.
“Easy.”
The wolf resisted.
“I'm not here to hurt you.”
The growl echoed inside her head.
Then she felt something unexpected.
Warmth.
Trust.
Byron's hand closed around hers.
“Don't stop.”
She pushed harder.
The poison began to loosen.
His breathing steadied.
His heart stopped racing.
The golden glow faded from his eyes.
Silence filled the room.
Mave realized they were inches apart.
Byron was still holding her hand.
Neither moved.
Then three sharp knocks came from the door.
Byron released her immediately.
His eyes shut.
Mave stepped away.
“Come in.”
Chief Healer Petra entered.
She carried a leather medical case.
Her expression was pleasant.
Too pleasant.
“Good evening.”
Mave lowered her gaze.
“Doctor.”
Petra looked at Byron.
“I'll examine him alone tonight.”
Mave's stomach tightened.
She glanced at Byron's closed eyes.
His face remained perfectly still.
Petra walked closer.
“Leave us.”
Mave didn't move.
Petra's smile disappeared.
“I said leave.”
Mave bowed.
“Yes, Doctor.”
She turned toward the door.
Then she heard Byron's voice.
Barely audible.
“Don't.”
Mave stopped.
Petra frowned.
“What?”
Mave smiled politely.
“I said nothing.”
She stepped into the corridor.
The door closed behind her.
Mave stood still.
Her heart pounded.
Because now she understood.
Petra was either involved.
Or she was being tested.
And inside that room was a king pretending to be unconscious while the most dangerous people in the kingdom believed him helpless.
Mave had spent ninety-three nights learning how to hide.
Tonight, she had found someone else who knew how.
She just didn't know whether King Byron would become her greatest ally—
or the person who finally destroyed her.
And behind the closed door, Chief Healer Petra opened her medical case.
May you like
Inside was a tiny glass vial filled with silver liquid.
The same silver liquid that had been found in Liv's blood.
