Promises Upon the Skin

Maya’s POV

The metallic taste of blood in my mouth slowly disappeared as Lawrence, with a patience that melted my inner wolf, cleaned my lips with a damp linen handkerchief. His gray eyes remained fixed on mine, filled with a mixture of relief and an intensity that sent shivers down my skin. The mystical trance from the fountain had ended, and although the revelation about my father still weighed heavily on my heart, Lawrence’s closeness transformed my panic into an indomitable strength.

“Better?” he asked in his deep baritone voice, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“Yes,” I replied, letting out a small husky laugh to break the gloomy atmosphere. “Although I have to admit this isn’t exactly how I planned to get your attention after what happened on the desk. I thought my curves did a better job than a nosebleed.”

Lawrence froze for a second, surprised by my tone. Then a crooked, dangerously attractive smile appeared on his perfect lips. His gray eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Believe me, my Queen, your curves do a devastating job on my self-control,” he replied, leaning a little closer and letting his sandalwood scent envelop me. “But if you wanted me to carry you in my arms again, all you had to do was ask. You don’t have to bleed to make me act like your devoted servant.”

“A devoted servant?” I arched an eyebrow, openly flirting as I tangled my fingers in the collar of his half-open shirt. “I can’t picture you taking orders from anyone, Lycan King. I thought your specialty was growling at Alphas and slamming them against walls.”

“I only take orders from my sovereign,” he murmured, his large hand sliding down my side, squeezing the softness of my hip with a subtle roughness that drew a sigh from my lips. “And sometimes, when she misbehaves, I have to remind her who has the longer claws around here.”

I let out a soft laugh, feeling a wonderful warmth bloom in my stomach. It was the first time in my life I could speak to a man this way; without fear of being judged, without hiding my body, playing with the desire that floated between us like an electric current. Hunter had never smiled with me; to him, I was an obligation. To Lawrence, I was an addictive game he was dying to play.

Lawrence helped me up from the stone floor and carefully sat me on the edge of the leather chaise. He knelt in front of me, taking my left arm. His eyes darkened slightly when he noticed a small reddish mark just above my wrist: the trace of Hunter’s fingers when he had grabbed me by force in the hallway.

“That damned bastard,” Lawrence growled, and his wolf surfaced for a second in his eyes. “I should have torn his arm off.”

“You already gave him a beating he’ll never forget for the rest of his miserable life, Lawrence,” I said, running my free hand through his dark hair to calm him. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Let me heal it,” he whispered.

He lowered his head and, instead of using some medicine from the royal court, pressed his lips directly against the red mark. The warmth of his mouth made me shiver. Lawrence brushed the tip of his mystical tongue over my irritated skin, using the healing saliva of the Lycan Alphas to soothe the bruise. The contact was so intimate, so filled with fierce tenderness, that I felt my cheeks burn.

“Well…” I teased, my voice trembling slightly from the pleasure of his touch. “If I’d known Lycan Kings healed scratches with so much dedication, I would have fallen out of trees a lot more often when I was a child.”

Lawrence looked up without releasing my arm, a mischievous spark shining in his eyes.

“This is an exclusive treatment for the Queen, Maya. If one of the Council Alphas shows up with a scratch, I’ll send him to the infirmary to have his skin stitched up without anesthesia. So don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, really?” I leaned toward him, challenging him with my gaze. “And what happens if I demand that you inspect every inch of my skin to make sure I don’t have any other hidden injuries? It could take you hours.”

Lawrence let out a low, possessive growl that vibrated straight through my chest. He stood abruptly, trapping me against the back of the chaise, his rock-solid body pressing against my soft thighs.

“You’re tempting me, Maya,” he warned, his voice turning dark and thick as his hands slipped beneath the royal cloak, caressing the bare skin of my legs. “And you know perfectly well that if I start inspecting every one of your beautiful curves, we won’t leave this office for three days. The Council Alphas will have to wait in the hall until their bones rot.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my face close to his, feeling our breaths mingle. The chemistry between us was a fire neither of us could extinguish, a complicity that bound us beyond the tragedies of the past.

“Let them wait,” I whispered against his lips. “The Empire can survive a few more hours.”

Lawrence smiled before capturing my mouth in a slow kiss, gentle yet deeply burning. His hands worshipped my hips, lifting me slightly to settle me more comfortably against him. We surrendered ourselves to slow lovemaking, filled with caresses and promises whispered against each other’s skin, sealing our bond before the storm of hunting traitors truly began.

Hours later, dawn painted the office in a cold blue light. Lawrence stood beside the map of the palace dungeons that he had taken from a secret compartment, his expression serious, though his left hand remained intertwined with mine. The moment of playfulness was over; it was time to act on what my wolf had seen during the trance.

“The royal dungeons of Blood Moon have three levels,” Lawrence explained, tracing a line across the parchment with one of his claws. “But according to my ancestors’ old plans, there is a fourth section sealed off after the High Council’s reforms. If your father is alive, he’s down there.”

“We have to go now, Lawrence,” I said, feeling blood-deep urgency coursing through my veins. “If the Alpha of Grizzly Moon knows I’ve recovered the ring, it won’t take him long to move and eliminate every loose end.”

Lawrence nodded, picked up his royal sword, and draped his cloak over my shoulders. We left the office through a hidden passage that led directly to a spiral staircase descending into the depths of the earth. The air grew cold, damp, and heavy with the smell of old stone and abandonment.

We descended in silence for what felt like an eternity, passing the ordinary cells until we reached a massive solid iron door covered in mystical chains pulsing with a glowing red rune.

Lawrence used his Lycan strength and royal blood to break the seal. The chains crashed to the ground with a metallic roar that echoed through the abyss. We pushed the heavy door open, revealing a dark corridor with a single cell at the far end, illuminated by a dying torch.

I ran toward the bars, my heart lodged in my throat. Looking inside, I saw a man chained to the wall, his hair gray and his body emaciated, yet with the same dark eyes as mine. The man slowly lifted his head, blinking against the light of our torch.

“Maya…?” His voice was dry, barely more than a whisper.

“Dad!” I sobbed, stretching my hands through the bars.

But before Lawrence could raise his sword to break the chains on the cell, slow, sarcastic applause echoed from the shadows of the dark corridor behind us.

We spun around instantly.

Emerging from the darkness was the elderly Alpha of Grizzly Moon, surrounded by ten elite warriors carrying mystical crossbows loaded with silver arrows aimed directly at our hearts. In his free hand, the old man held a mystical dagger dripping with a black liquid.

“You arrived sooner than I expected, Your Majesties,” the old Alpha said with a sadistic smile. “What a pity this dungeon is about to become your royal tomb.”