Chapter 3 Old Wounds Reopened

Ophelia paced the length of the room, hands quivering at her sides. Adorned with old tapestries, the walls looked to close in on her. Every time she closed her eyes, the memories came rushing back; she had worked so hard to forget him, to wipe away the suffering Tyler had given her. T. Wolfe The guy who had once been her all, became her destroyer.

Familiar and frightening, his footfall made her breath catch. He was present; nowhere to hide.

Tyler went into the room, his voice quiet and almost hesitant, "Ophelia." His former easygoing attitude was suddenly replaced by a seriousness that made her stomach turn. His jaw was firm, his features as keen as she recalled, but his eyes were altered. They held no pride, only sadness.

Ophelia murmured, her voice icy while her pulse raced faster than she could help, "You shouldn't be here."

Taking a step closer, Tyler's brow creased; his eyes stayed fixed on hers. "I know," he confessed, his voice laden with feeling. Though I have no right to seek your pardon, I cannot continue fleeing the reality. His hands at his sides twitched as though he wanted to reach out but realized he couldn't.

She stepped back and shook her head. Tyler, you don't get to do this. After all, you don't get to waltz back into my life.

Tyler remarked, his voice cracking a little, "I never wanted to hurt you." Every damn day I've regretted my errors, horrible ones.

Blinking away the pain of tears, Ophelia turned her gaze. She could not, no, she would not let him know how much his comments still influenced her.

You left me," she said softly, her words falling like a too-great burden. You abandoned me when I most required you.

Tyler's fingertips brushed softly across her wrist as he reached for her. Ophelia, I never wanted to leave you. I was cornered. But I promise you, I never meant to harm you. His voice shook with each advancing step.

Ophelia's heart sank. She wanted to scream, to shove him away, yet a part of her still yearned for the guy she had loved.

But before she could speak, his hand came out and seized her wrist tightly. His voice became almost a whisper. Please, let me in.

Anger began to swell in Ophelia's breast. Her face red with feeling, she pulled her arm free from his hold. Tyler, I no longer trust you. You are the cause of my presence in this cursed location; you believe you can return and fix everything?

The power of her words made her voice break. Like he had done to her, she wished to harm him.

Tyler's jaw clenched, he gulped and stepped back. Voice hoarse, he said, "I'm sorry."

Fury bubbling within her, Ophelia could only gaze at him, her heart still caught between the past and the present. This was the guy to whom I had formerly given everything. Now, he was only a shadow of the guy she had once known.

The tension in the room was sharp enough to cut through with a knife. Seated around the big, oval table in the grand hall, the Lycan Kings traded looks, their attention aroused by the drama playing out between Ophelia and Tyler.

Always the rogue wolf, Callum Nightshade reclined in his chair, his keen eyes sparkling with pleasure as he observed the interaction. His dark hair framed his face, and the sneer pulling at his lips gave away his interest.

Callum said to the guy next to him, "I told you this would be fun to watch." Though his speech was quiet, there was a touch of malice in it as if he relished witnessing the ex-lover's battle.

All quiet witnesses to the disintegration of something personal, the other Kings said nothing, their eyes darting between Ophelia and Tyler. None of them, however, appeared to be bothered by it. For them, this was only normal for the game.

Ophelia could sense their gaze on her as she attempted to gather herself. The air in the room was oppressive; the burden of their focus was unbearable. She refused to reveal weakness and kept looking. Tyler's treachery had been personal, but she wasn't going to let it control her.

Callum replied quietly, "You know, this is where it gets fascinating." Watching them, emotionally speaking, rip one another apart. It's like seeing two wolves battle for a bone. The drama never stops.

Though she said nothing, Ophelia's hands tightened at her sides. Callum was correct; she was under observation. She despised it and could sense the King's gaze on her. She despised how her life had become a show, just a chess piece in their games.

Ophelia stayed still, her head spinning, as the discussion around her went on. She had never been one for weakness, yet in this time, she felt little. Betrayed, forsaken, and now a pawn to these monarchs.

From across the room, she drew Lucian's attention. His face was unreadable as he watched her. Was he watching her to see whether she would collapse? To find out whether her feelings will control her?

She would not.

Still reeling from her run-in with Tyler, Ophelia hardly made it back to her room. Needing room to think, to clear her thoughts, she moved quickly.

The royal corridors lay before her, their silence nearly deafening. The air was dense with an uncomfortable quiet, almost suffocating. A reminder of her loneliness in this location, her footsteps rang off the frigid stone floor.

The far-off sound of howling wolves drew her notice as she got to her door. The haunting, sad wails broke the stillness of the night and made her spine tingle.

Breath faint, Ophelia halted. Though she was aware the wolves were always about the realm, their howls tonight felt unusual. They sounded more urgent and louder, almost as if to warn her. She had always sensed them in the shadows, but tonight it seemed as though something was closing in.

Heart pounding, she opened the door and walked in. She looked out the window; the night was too black to see anything. Only the shadows danced on the glass, creating transient forms all across the room.

Ophelia felt her heart race and put her hand on her chest. The howls disturbed her for some reason. She could not get rid of the impression that something was approaching. Something perilous. It wasn't only the wolves making her anxious.

Outside, the moonlight danced, throwing deep shadows over the courtyard. Beyond the garden, a figure moved in the shadows. Ophelia's breath caught when she saw a shadowy figure just out of sight.

She was not by herself.

Ophelia stood on the balcony, her eyes wandering over the infinite expanse of moonlit gardens below. Though her thoughts were far from the calm night scene, the wind ruffled her hair. Inside, the palace walls seemed to be closing in on her. Every nook served as a reminder of her transformation into a pawn in a kingdom not belonging to her.

Boots tapping on the marble floor broke her reverie. Seeing the new arrival made her turn and pout. Callum Nightshade.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a stone-carved face. His sharp, penetrating eyes shone like the deepest shadows as his raven-black hair tumbled in disheveled waves over his brow. His reputation had come before him; he was a rogue wolf among the Lycan Kings, dreaded for his cleverness and violent disposition. Still, there was something about him that caught Ophelia's eye, something more hazardous than only his reputation.

Ophelia could feel the force radiating from him as he came closer; it was more than just strength; a darkness hung upon him. It was a warning she didn't get, a presence she could sense in her bones.

"You must be Ophelia," Callum remarked, his voice silky, but with an edge that made her heart quicken. His eyes swept over her, absorbing every inch of her shape. The lady creating all this commotion around here.

Trying to keep her cool, Ophelia gripped her hands at her sides. Surely, I am not the only one.

Callum laughed, the sound low and quite feral. "Oh, you are not. You are not, but you are definitely the most fascinating.

His gaze stayed on hers as he moved closer. The attraction between them was instant and strong, but Ophelia flinched reflexively. Not for a second did she trust him?

His remarks were nonchalant yet packed with something far more hazardous when he said, "I've been watching you." You're more than simply a pawn in their game. You are more than simply a pawn in their game. I believe you are aware of that, right?

Ophelia's heart raced. "I don't know what you're talking about," she answered, her voice more firm than her feelings.

His lips formed a smile that did not touch his eyes. "Oh, I believe you do," Callum responded, locking eyes with her. You have no idea who you are coping with here.

He then turned on his heel and vanished down the corridor, leaving Ophelia in the cold with his words reverberating in her head. Was he forewarning her? Or menacing her? In any case, she disliked it.

The next day, Ophelia discovered she had been called to the royal meeting chamber. As always, Lucian's presence infused the room with an air of authority; yet tonight, something felt different; the tension was sharp enough to cut with a knife. The other Lycan Kings were there, their faces unreadable. Callum stood among them, his gaze firmly fixed on Ophelia as she walked in.

"Sit," Lucian ordered, his voice harsh but with a hint of something else, a discomfort she had not seen before.

Ophelia shifted to sit at the far end of the table, her eyes darting to Callum, who was fixedly watching her. His presence behind her seemed like a weight pushing against her back.

Lucian started, looking between the males in the room. Apart from the rogue wolves, we also confront other threats. Some among our ranks want to see us annihilated.

Ophelia's heart raced. She had guessed as much, but hearing it out loud sent a shiver down her spine. She was the key to something far more hazardous, not only a price to be battled over.

Smooth and sarcastic, Callum's voice sliced over the space. The traitors are already in position. What about the lady you have all been safeguarding? She is significantly more crucial for the kingdom than you think.

Ophelia tensed. Could you clarify?

Callum leaned forward, eyes shining with the knowledge she lacked. You have been kept in the dark for far too long. Your bloodline... is linked to something far older than the Lycan Kings. Ophelia, you are not only the key to this kingdom's survival. You are its future.

The room became quiet. Ophelia's breath caught. Lucian remained silent, his eyes darting to the other Kings and his jaw tight. The discovery lingered in the air like a thick fog.

Callum said quietly, "The truth is, Ophelia, your bloodline has been the centre of this game for centuries." You are not only a wife, a pawn, or a princess. You are the one who will either save or destroy this whole realm.

Ophelia sensed her world shift. She wanted to deny it, to leave, but something deep inside her said that Callum was telling the truth.

She glanced towards Lucian, but his expression was unreadable.

"You have no idea what your bloodline means to the kingdom, Ophelia," Callum said, his voice falling to a deadly whisper as he came closer.

Ophelia's heart beat in her chest. His words' burden bore down on her chest. She had come here for a purpose, one far more important than she ever thought. Now she had to confront it.