Throne of desires: my uncle, my sinful mate

PARIS POV

I woke up gasping from my own scream.

The dream was the same as always, a look of my father's face, pale and broken, reaching for me before it fell away into the dark.

And then she was there. Selene. Wrapping her arms around me and her lips close to my ear. She was whispering the words that bound me forever.

"You belong to me now."

I woke up suddenly, sweat dripping down the small, bare skin of my back. My room was quiet except for the bear of my heart.

My mother died when I was six.

Too weak, the healers said. Alpha Jareth my father remarried almost right away. He married Selene. She smiled at me sweetly then, called me her little dove. But within few years, Father was gone too. And from that night on, the house became a prison.

Selene's house. Selene's rules. Selene's lies.

And me? I was her tool.

At first, it was the parties. She would dress me up and have me sing or dance in front of her guests. I hated the way their eyes followed me, heavy and greedy. I hated it more when she began sending me to the club at night, saying I had a gift, that men would pay just to watch me move.

That was how it started. That was how I became hers completely.

The knock at my door came sharp, three times, but I ignored it because I already knew what it meant; Selene's orders, Selene's rules, Selene's voice reminding me that tonight I would dance for strangers until their eyes burned through me and their hunger made me sick.

But before I could be dragged into that suffocating world of smoke and music and greedy hands, I felt a pull in my chest, a quiet desperate need to see him, even if only for a moment, even if only to feel his eyes soften when they met mine, so I did what I had promised myself I wouldn't do tonight, I slipped out.

And it wasn't Selene at the door after all, just a maid carrying a tray of food I would never touch, her head bowed low as she set it down without meeting my eyes, but even that small mercy of not being caught gave me the chance I needed to move unseen, to take those stolen steps down the shadowed hall toward him. My boyfriend Mason.

The halls were dark, and I held my breath like a thief. Selene had ears everywhere, and Morgana was always looking for a reason to catch me, but I moved silently through the servant's corridor toward the only place where he and I had stolen time before.

People whispered about Mason with suspicion, the pack said he was just Liam's adopted, illegitimate son taken in out of guilt. Liam himself never confirmed it, but the warnings in his glares told me

and I never understood why because if the boy weren't even Liam's real son then what right did he have to come between us?

We kept hidden who we were, meeting in shadows and behind locked doors, holding each other like children deprived of heat, and in those secret nights, I thought of him as my own, the last portion of light left to me after Selene crushed all the other scraps of joy under her heel.

And so, I went down the dark hallway and pushed through the side door of the old guest room that was our spot, my heart pounding with anxiety and hope, ready to see him waiting, ready to steal just one kiss before the night would swallow me again.

When the door opened, my breath froze in my chest. The scent of roses and spice, too heavy and too sweet, surrounded me before my eyes even had a chance to adjust. Then I saw it.

The dark long black silk against pale skin, the black hair tumbling down her back, and then the sound of laughter, slicing through me.

Selene.

My stepmother.

She was there, in the bed where I had kissed him, in the very sheets where I had pressed my face to his chest and whispered my secrets, and her hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her lips on his as though she owned him too, and my heart broke so suddenly I almost swore I could hear it crack.

He was kissing her back. My lover, my secret, the boy I had risked everything for, was kissing Selene, his mouth devouring hers like he had never known mine.

I stumbled back, clutching the doorframe as my throat closed tight with the kind of rage and grief that makes you want to tear your skin open. It was as if Selene had waited, watching me cling to him, only so she could take him too, just to remind me that nothing in this world could ever belong to me.

I don't know how long I stood there, my eyes burning as though they had been cut open, but when she finally turned her head, when her eyes found mine in the crack of the door, she smiled as if she had been waiting for me to see, like this had been her plan all along and in that moment I realized there was no end to the ways Selene could break me.

And him? He froze when he saw me, his face pale, but not with guilt, not even with shame, only fear, because he knew Selene owned him now too, and maybe he had never been mine at all.

"Paris, please," Mason stammered, his body jerking upright, his hands shaking as he tried to reach for me. "This isn't what you think, I swear to you, it's not what it looks like. She came to me, she forced this on me, I didn't want it, you have to believe me.

Paris, please, I love you, you're the only one I love." His words tumbled over themselves, desperate and broken, but I could still see the red of her lipstick smeared across his mouth and the way his hands had clung to her just moments before, and no excuse in the world could make that disappear.

Selene only leaned back against the bed, and she tilted her head with a wicked little smile that cut deeper than any blade.

"Mason," she purred, her tone soft as honey, "why are you apologizing to her?" She flicked her gaze toward me like I was nothing more than a shadow in the doorway.

"She's just a girl, my little dove, fragile and foolish. Do you really think she has the right to demand your loyalty?"

"Selene" Mason began, but she silenced him with nothing more than a sly curl of her lips, then waved her hand as though shooing away a servant. "Enough of this nonsense. Go, Paris. You have work tonight. The men at the club won't wait forever, and they certainly don't care for tears."

My heart stopped at her words, because she had spoken it out loud, here, in front of him, the one thing I had fought to keep hidden.

Mason's head snapped toward me, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Wait... what?" His voice cracked. "You're the girl at the club?"

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, I wanted to tell him it wasn't me, not truly, that Selene had chained me to that stage, but my voice was gone, trapped somewhere deep inside me.

"You..." he choked, his face twisting, his hand dragging through his hair as if he could rip the truth away. "You've been stripping in front of men? Letting them stare at you like that? Paris, how could you, how could you sink so low?" His words were louder now, cutting me open, each one harsher than the last.

Tears blurred my vision, but still I couldn't explain, couldn't defend myself, not with Selene smiling in the background, her poison dripping into every second of silence.

Mason's chest heaved, his voice breaking into something crueler than I had ever heard from him. "Maybe this is why my father never wanted us together. Maybe he knew the truth before I did." He spat the words like hate.

"Because you're nothing but a fucking slut."

PARIS POV

My knees almost gave out beneath me, but I forced myself to run, run before my scream tore through the halls, before Selene's laughter followed me like a chain around my throat and shattered me completely.

I locked myself in my room and let the grief hollow me out. I knew tears wouldn't save me, they hadn't saved my parents but I cried until the house felt like a cage pressing against my skin.

All I needed to do was return to the club and work regardless of the cost, because if I did not obey, if I even thought about saying no, Selene's punishment would bear down upon me, and her punishments were always worse than facing the humiliation of dancing under hungry eyes.

So I cleaned my face, even if it meant nothing, painted my lips the color she loved red and put on the gown that had selected for me. My heart was still bleeding, but Selene has never cared for a broken heart, just obedience, and I was too weak to battle her this evening.

When the cab arrived, I stepped inside without a word. Soon, the neon lights of the club rose in the distance, and I walked onto the stage where the music and smoke acted as my only company.

The stage stood waiting, bright and cruel, and as I climbed those steps, I thought of Mason's voice, of his words echoing in my head, "you're nothing but a fucking slut."

And still, I danced, because she owned me.

SELENE'S POV

The fire burned low, shadows crawling across the walls like hungry hands, and my daughter Morgana sat beside me, her eyes shining with that restless greed that always reminded me too much of myself.

While Lily, my most trusted hand, stood in the corner, silent as a ghost but her presence heavy in the room, and even as I tried to appear calm my hands would not still, they trembled when I poured the wine, still I held the cup as if it were nothing but water.

"Mother, what troubles you?" Morgana asked, her tone suspicious, and I knew the girl already guessed something was wrong, because Morgana always searched for cracks, always pressed her questions until she found the secret.

I set the cup down slowly, even the sound of it might break me and I forced my voice to stay steady as I said at last, "The Mad Alpha." The name tasted bitter, and I hated that even saying it made my chest tighten.

Morgana frowned, her lips curling, and she laughed too loud. "A tale to frighten pups," she scoffed. "He rules far away, what is he to us?"

But Lily's eyes flicked toward me, wide with fear, because she knew. Everyone who mattered knew. And she whispered, "He has sent word, my lady. He says the time is done. He says if you do not answer his call, he will burn this pack to the ground and take all that you hold dear."

I closed my eyes because I could see him as he was in the rumors, a man with eyes like fire, a wolf too ruthless to fear gods or kings. He was not a man of bargains. He was not a man of mercy. He was war itself.

"He comes for his debt," I said, and the words clawed at my throat. "And he does not like being owed."

Morgana's lips twisted into a smirk. "Then we shall face him," she said, foolish and proud.

"Foolish girl," I snapped, sharper than I meant to, but she had to hear me. "The Mad Alpha cannot be faced. He cannot be charmed. He cannot be tricked. If he wants his payment, he will rip it from us with his teeth."

The room went quiet, only the fire crackling, and Morgana's chatter, her little games, began to scrape at my ears. She was not ready for what I needed to say. Her hunger for power made her blind, and blindness now was death.

"Leave us, Morgana," I said firmly. "I must speak with Lily alone."

She frowned, ruining her lovely face into hard lines, but she complied on her way out, and when the door clicked shut the air became even thicker. Only Lily was left, and of everyone in this damned place she was the only person I trusted with the truth.

Lily stepped forward, voice trembling with fear. "My lady, he asked for your daughter in exchange for time. But you know what they say, once your time is up, and he takes someone you love, they never come back. If he claims her, it will be the end."

At the mention of his demand my chest tightened. He had asked not for gold, not for land, not for silver, but for flesh. For a daughter. For blood that would buy me time.

And I smiled, a thin cruel thing, even when my heart raced, because I had already made my choice. "Not Morgana," I said. "Never Morgana. Paris will go."

Lily's gasp was sharp, her eyes wide with shock. "Paris? Your stepdaughter? My lady, if the pack learns..."

"They will learn nothing," I cut her off.

"We will tell her she is to perform for a guest. We will pack her things as if she is traveling for a dance. She will step into the carriage car, and she will not know the truth until it is far too late."

Lily shook her head, trembling. "But once he takes her, he will not give her back. You know the Mad Alpha's ways. He does not return what he claims."

"Good," I said, rising to my feet, my heels striking the floor with purpose even as my heart twisted inside me. "Then the debt will be paid, and Morgana will remain untouched. Better to lose what is not mine than to see this house burn. Better Paris than us all."

For a moment, silence stretched between us, broken only by the fire. Lily's eyes filled with pity, even while she tried to hide it, but pity was useless to me now. What mattered was survival.

I lifted my chin and forced the tremor in my hands to still. "At dawn we leave for his stronghold. The Mad Alpha has summoned us, and if we do not go, he will come here with fire. I will not watch this pack crumble because of a girl who was never truly mine."

Inside, fear bit at me, because I knew what it meant to walk into the Mad Alpha's den. I knew he was not a man to bargain, not a man to share, not a man to forgive. But I would gamble everything, even Paris's life, because survival was all that mattered, and I had not clawed my way this far just to be devoured now.

PARIS POV

The morning came too quickly, still dark outside, and I had not slept, my eyes swollen with tears that had burned all night, and when the door burst open without a knock I flinched so deeply I thought my heart would leap from my chest, because Selene did not come into rooms softly, she was a storm, and today was no different.

She walked in, dragging her silk robes along the floor, her face already decorated with that cold smile that never reached her eyes, and before I could sit up, she spoke to me as if the night had not ruined me, like my heart had not been ripped in two.

"Get up," she said sharply, her voice cutting through the air. "We are leaving. You are to perform for someone important, and I will not have you looking like a weeping child."

My lips parted, my voice trembling because I still could not stop thinking of Mason's betrayal. "Perform for who?" I asked, but she only looked at me with that smile that always meant she was hiding something, and she waved my words away like they were nothing at all.

"Do not question me," she said, her tone final. She moved to the table, dipped a cloth into the basin, and pressed it into my hand. "Warm water on your eyes. Press it down until the swelling fades. No one must see you like this, no one must know you have been crying. You are meant to shine, not to look broken."

Her hand came to rest on my shoulder, and she bent close enough that I could feel her breath against my cheek. "And as for Mason," she whispered like poison seeping into me, "he was not meant for you. If he were, he would not have cheated, he would not have betrayed you. Take it as a sign, child. Some men are not worth the chains we wrap around them."

I turned my face up to her, my voice shaking but sharp with the one question that would not leave me. "He's not meant for me, or you made him cheat?"

For a moment her eyes glittered with amusement, and then she smiled, that same smile she wore when she watched me suffer. "He would not have been there in that room with me if he did not want to," she said simply. "He chose it. That is the truth."

Her words sank into me like knives, and I wanted to scream, I wanted to claw the truth out of her, I could only sit there with the cloth pressed against my burning eyes while she turned and moved toward the door.

"Now, dear," she said without even looking back, "pack your bags. We have a journey ahead of us."

PARIS POV

I pressed the warm fabric to my tender eyes and began to pack, whispering to myself that perhaps the trip would help me forget Mason. Of course, I knew the truth. The only reason I was going was because Selene had ordered it, and whatever awaited me at the end of this journey was never going to be anything I agreed to.

So I took my trunk downstairs and there she was, Selene, wearing her usual black dress, her familiar red lips with Lily standing next to her, quiet and observant as always.

Lily reached for my bags and comfortably took them without saying a word, and Selene commanded that I hop in. But just as Selene and Lily moved to follow, a voice cut through the morning air, and my heart stopped because it was Mason. He came from the shadows like he had been waiting, his face pale, his eyes restless, and he said he wanted to join the journey.

Selene attempted to block him, her body tense with rage, but he did not relent. He stood there speaking words I couldn't hear, and whatever he was saying made her stop, finally she nodded and stepped aside, and he entered the car with me like nothing had happened.

Lily slid into the driver's seat, Selene took her place in the front, and I was stuck in the back with him. The hours in the car were a suffocating stretch of silence. Mason sat so close his shoulder brushed mine, but I kept my eyes on the trees outside, wondering if I had been a fool to love him.

And as the miles mounted behind us, I thought maybe his father was right, maybe there had been a good reason why he never wanted us together, maybe he had seen the betrayal before I did, and in that moment I almost hated myself more than I hated Mason because I had loved him enough to keep my eyes closed.

As the car passed through the iron gates, I felt a change in the air. Guards positioned at the entrance were attentive, with their hands casually sitting on their weapons, they moved toward us the moment we came to a stop.

Though they asked no questions, they ordered us to exit the vehicle while I followed as they led me into the building.

The hallways were tall and dark, the walls lined with old banners, making me feel smaller with every step. The guards ushered us directly to a room, the heavy doors creaking shut behind us, and finally the snap of the doors closing sat like a weighted rock in my stomach.

Selene turned to me. "I will speak with the Mad King first. I will return to you after."

My blood ran cold and the words burst from me before I could stop them. "The Mad King? This, this is his house? Selene, why didn't you tell me?"

She turned her head slowly, her smile thin and cruel. "If I had told you, would you have agreed to come?"

My voice rose with panic. "No! I would never have come!"

Her eyes flashed and she snapped back. "Then shut the fuck up and get dressed. You perform tonight. You go in there, you dance, and you do whatever he tells you to do."

The ground tilted under me, fear clawing at my throat, but I managed to choke out, "What if something happens? You know that man is not right in the head, he's wicked, Selene. You cannot make me..."

Selene moved close enough that I could feel her breath on my face, and her tone was icy. "If you do a good job, he will not harm you. You are a pretty girl. I know you will do fine. Do not show him fear." She turned on her heel, her dress flowing, and left my sight with not another word.

I stood there shaking, anger coursing through my veins until it hurt. I wanted to scream, I wanted to scratch the walls, I wanted to say Selene's name in vain until my throat bled, but more than I acted by energy, I was weighed down from fear.

The tears stung, but I brushed them aside with the back of my hand. I was weak from traveling for so long, and my head felt heavy. But I pulled out the gown Selene had picked for me, black silk with a slit cut high on the thigh, and forced myself into it. My hands were shaking as I gathered the straps and pinned my hair.

I was still sitting on the edge of the bed, forcing my hands to stay steady, when the door swung open and Mason slipped in without even knocking.

For a heartbeat, I thought he had come to plead, to beg forgiveness, to spill apologies and half-truths the way broken men always did. But the look in his eyes wasn't remorse.

It was anger.

His gaze dragged over the dress clinging to my body, slow and burning, like he had the right to claim what he saw.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he demanded. "That you were stripping? Dancing naked for men in that club? How long have you been letting them look at you like this?"

I stood so fast and yelled. "Get out," I snapped, pointing at the door.

He didn't move.

"Paris, answer me," he said, stepping closer. "How could you let yourself fall so low? I loved you, and you..."

I laughed, sharp and hollow, cutting him off. "Loved me?" I said. "Is that what you call it, Mason? Was it love when I walked in and found you in bed with my stepmother? Was it love when you kissed her?"

His face was drained of color. "That wasn't..."

"Don't bother lying," I hissed, lifting my chin, locking my eyes on his. "You betrayed me. And now you want to judge me?"

I shook my head slowly. "You don't get that right. Not anymore."

He stared at me like he wanted to argue, but something in my tone made him hesitate. I wasn't fighting him. I was already somewhere else.

His breathing grew heavier, his gaze dropping to the slit of my dress, the curve of my thigh. "You can't go in there like this," he muttered. "Not to him."

I almost smiled not because it amused me, but because it confirmed what I already knew.

"Why not?" I said lightly. "Maybe I'll have fun with the king tonight."

I tilted my head, watching his face carefully.

"After all... I was chosen."

The word landed between us like a blade.

His brows furrowed. "Chosen?" he repeated. "Paris, what are you talking about?"

I didn't answer.

Instead, I stepped closer, my heels clicking against the floor, my voice calm even as my heart thundered. "You wouldn't understand," I said softly. "You never did."

His nostrils flared. "Don't say things like that," he snapped. "You'll regret it."

I stopped inches from him, close enough that he could feel the distance I'd already put between us.

"No," I said. "You'll regret it. You'll regret cheating. You'll regret losing me."

My eyes held his, steady and unflinching.

"But you won't be able to stop it."

For a moment, silence burned between us. His expression twisted, desire tangled with anger, confusion flickering beneath it and for the first time, he looked like a man who knew he was already too late.

The door swung open.

Selene's perfume flooded the room before her voice followed. "Enough."

Her eyes flicked to Mason with cold disdain. "Leave."

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but her stare silenced him, and after a long, tense pause, he stormed past her, his shoulder brushing mine like he wanted me to feel his presence one last time.

Selene turned to me, her smile wicked and satisfied. "The king is ready to see you. Fix your face, Paris. He does not like weakness."

~~~~~~~~~

I stood still at the heavy set of doors, my palms slick, my legs trembling underneath the weight of what lay behind them, and for a moment, I thought I might faint before I knocked.

But then I pushed my knuckles into the door and felt the sound echo like a drum through the hallway. A deep voice rolled from inside, a voice that crawled over my skin. "Enter."

My hand was unsteady on the handle, but I pushed and the doors opened wide. I stepped in, the heels of my shoes clicking against the stone while each click contributed to the vast silence, and the noise caused me to lift my chin even though my heart beat like a trapped bird.

The room was large, and very large, tall ceilings and thick dark curtains, a room fit for a king, and shadows held their form in every corner.

I told myself I would not fear, my knees would not buckle, because fear is weakness, and Selene had already told me that weakness will kill you here.

Instead, I promised myself that if I used what I had, the charm and the body Selene had forced me to use at the club, I could make this easier. I would turn the ache of Mason's betrayal into a weapon, making him choke on what he had lost. With that thought, I swallowed my fear and forced my hips to sway with every step as I walked toward the bed.

From the shadows, he moved. A tall figure, broad and dangerous, rising from the darkness with a presence that swallowed the room. I was almost breathless, but I managed to keep my smile intact.

The firelight revealed a face too sharp, too handsome, with eyes like burning amber, a jaw cut from stone, and a body built with power that made him look both ruthless and impossibly alluring. He was danger and beauty bound into one, and it terrified me how much it stole my breath.

"So, you're the daughter of Selene," he said in a voice so deep it rumbled through the air. He walked closer to me, and with every step, he seemed to breathe heavier.

"Oh well... such a beautiful one. I heard she has two daughters, and she chose to give up the most beautiful one."

The words hit me, and inside my head a thought clawed and scratched, "does she even consider me her daughter?"

This was not just a performance. This was something else, something worse. My chest felt tight, but I pushed the thought aside; if I let it build, it would show in my eyes and I couldn't show him my fear.

Instead, I let my body curve closer to his gaze, my lips parting as I spoke with the soft, sultry tone that Selene had conditioned in me. "So I am the chosen one," I teased as I tilted my chin.

"Then I suppose I should make myself worth the choice. Tell me, my king, do you like your gifts wrapped in silk?"

His eyes darkened and I thought for a moment I had hooked him, that maybe my charm could bend even this man carved from stone.

Then his mouth curved into a smile that was nothing like Mason's, nothing like any man I had known, and his voice fell heavy as chains.

"Strip."

My king, I'm supposed to just perform for you first, and just maybe..." I started, my voice shaking as I tried to buy time with the lie I had been taught.

He cut me off, cold. "Oh no, darling, you belong to me now; your mother exchanged you to pay a debt."