Page 28 of The Blood Moon Oath

Her eyes blaze with a mix of anger and humiliation, and I turn away, giving her space. “Get dressed,” I say over my shoulder, my voice firm but not unkind. “We’re not done talking.”

Chapter

Seventeen

SABLE

The silence stretches between us after Kael's harsh dismissal of Torin, his commanding presence filling the space like a heavy, unspoken weight. My skin prickles, and I pull my gaze from him, glaring at the floor as I try to steady the whirlpool of emotions clawing at me.

He adjusts his cuffs, smooth and deliberate. “You should eat,” he says finally, his voice calm, almost conversational, as though nothing significant just happened. “You must be hungry after training.”

Hungry? After that? My stomach churns at the thought, but I know better than to argue outright. Begrudgingly, I follow him through his chambers, the weight of his presence at my back. I try not to notice the way the faint scent of cedar and something darker lingers around him, but it’s impossible not to.

We emerge into a dining area where Finn and Torin are already seated. Torin sprawls in his chair like it’s a throne, hisgrin sharp and unapologetic as he watches me enter. Finn sits straighter, his demeanor calm and cool, but his eyes track my every movement with a quiet intensity. The table between them is laden with food, the smell rich and savory, and my stomach betrays me by growling softly.

I hate that I feel embarrassed about what happened with Kael. I hate all of them. I hate their kind. I hate their power, their arrogance, the way they treat me like some pawn in a game I barely understand.

But at the same time, I don’t.

I don’t understand how I can hate someone so deeply, yet feel this...this pull. It’s wrong. All of it is wrong. My emotions churn as I sit down stiffly, pushing the food around my plate. The fork feels foreign in my hand, like everything else about this place, about these men.

My eyes dart to Torin as he inches his chair closer to me, his grin softer now, less wild. “You shouldn’t worry about whatever you’re thinking,” he says, his voice low, almost soothing.

The words catch me off guard. I glance at him, his grin still in place but lacking its usual razor edge. For a moment, I’m speechless, my fingers tightening around the fork. As insane as Torin is, I realize with a jolt, I’m starting to develop a strange soft spot for him.

It doesn’t make sense. He’s dangerous, unhinged, constantly talking about hurting me and making me like it. But then he does something like clean me up—gentle, deliberate—and it’s the biggest shock I’ve ever had. My mind can’t reconcile the two sides of him. I’ve never had experience with men like this, or with men at all, really. How am I supposed to make sense of any of it?

My gaze drops to my wrist, where a faint shimmer of light catches the edge of the binding mark. Before I can pull myhand away, Torin catches it, holding my wrist up to examine it.

“Well, isn’t that interesting,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the mark lightly.

I look up, startled, and see Finn across the table. His calm demeanor cracks, his sharp eyes narrowing as his posture stiffens. He tenses visibly, though he tries to mask it, his fingers flexing against the edge of the table.

Finn’s voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it as he looks at Kael. “Alpha, care to explain yourself? Binding yourself to her? That’s...unexpected.”

Kael doesn’t miss a beat. He leans back in his chair, looking utterly unbothered, though I can feel something in him—discomfort, hesitation—at the edge of my consciousness. It’s faint, but it’s there, like a distant vibration I can’t fully interpret.

“It made sense,” Kael says smoothly, brushing off Finn’s concerns. “Given her little escape attempt, it was necessary. Now we don’t have to worry about that.”

Finn arches an eyebrow, his calm mask slipping further. “And when she enters the Trials? What then?”

Kael smirks, a flash of amusement sparking in his eyes. “She wins,” he says simply. “And she takes care of Rothgar for us.”

Finn’s jaw tightens. “And if you’re wrong? What happens to her—or to you—when?—”

Kael cuts him off with a sharp glance, the weight of his authority silencing any further questions. The tension at the table thickens, and I decide to file this moment away, to unravel later. Finn’s reaction, Kael’s binding, Rothgar—I’ll get answers, one way or another. Torin, at least, might slip up if I play my cards right.

Kael’s attention shifts back to me now, his expression calmbut calculating. “You’re committed to the Trials under us,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “That means you cannot lose. And we will not allow a defeat.”

I bristle, setting my fork down with a sharp clink. “I’ve fought your kind before,” I snap. “Killed your kind. I’m not some helpless?—”

“You’ve never faced anyone like Rothgar,” Kael interrupts, his tone infuriatingly calm. “He is not so easily killed. Your little jiu-jitsu tricks won’t work on him.”

The words sting more than I’d like to admit, and I huff in frustration. “Fine,” I concede. “But I’m tired. I want to go to my room.”

Kael studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he nods.

As I rise, I lean toward Torin, keeping my voice low. “Come see me later,” I murmur. “So I can return your knife.”

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