Irina’s POV

"Follow me, please."

Sofia’s voice was gentle. Patient.

I didn’t move.

My feet had rooted themselves to the floor the moment she’d said the word "dinner."

Dinner. With him. With Nicolas.

The alpha king who’d marked me. Who’d saved me from Maxim. Who’d then accused me of wanting it. Of enjoying what Maxim had done.

My stomach twisted.

"Miss?" Sofia tilted her head. Concerned. "Are you alright?"

No. I wasn’t alright. Would never be alright again.

But I nodded anyway.

Because what choice did I have? When the alpha king summoned you, you went.

My legs finally cooperated. Moved forward mechanically. One step. Then another.

Sofia led me through corridors I didn’t recognize. Everything was too big. Too clean. Too expensive.

The palace.

I was in the alpha king’s palace.

The thought should have felt significant. Important.

Instead it just felt surreal. Like I was watching someone else’s life from a distance.

We turned a corner. Then another.

Finally, Sofia stopped at a set of double doors. Carved wood. Ornate handles.

She pushed them open.

The room beyond was massive.

A dining room—no, a banquet hall. Long table that could easily seat thirty people. Crystal chandelier overhead. Windows along one wall showing the gardens outside.

And at the head of the table—

Nicolas.

He sat perfectly still. One hand resting on the table. The other holding a glass of what looked like whiskey.

His eyes found me immediately.

Green. Intense. Burning.

My breath caught.

He looked different than he had in the car. Calmer. More controlled.

He’d changed clothes. Now wore a crisp white shirt—sleeves rolled up to his elbows—and dark pants. No tie. Top button undone.

Casual. But somehow still commanding.

Like he could be wearing rags and still make the entire room feel smaller.

"Come in," he said.

Not a request. An order.

My feet moved before my brain could catch up.

Sofia gestured to a chair. Not at the opposite end of the long table—that would have been absurd. But close enough to Nicolas that we could speak without shouting.

Still too close.

I sat. Stiffly. My spine didn’t touch the back of the chair.

Ready to bolt at any moment.

Sofia disappeared. Other servants materialized—silent, efficient. They placed plates in front of us. Filled glasses.

The food looked expensive. Smelled good.

My stomach churned anyway.

I stared at my plate. Roasted chicken. Vegetables. Some kind of grain I didn’t recognize.

All of it might as well have been cardboard.

Nicolas picked up his fork. Started eating.

I forced myself to do the same.

The fork felt heavy in my hand. Foreign.

I brought a piece of chicken to my mouth. Chewed mechanically.

Tasted nothing.

Silence stretched between us. Heavy. Suffocating.

I kept my eyes down. Focused on cutting my food into smaller and smaller pieces.

If I didn’t look at him, maybe he’d forget I was here.

Minutes crawled by.

I heard him eating. The quiet clink of silverware against china. The soft sound of him drinking.

My heart hammered so loud I was sure he could hear it.

The mate bond hummed between us. Insistent. Demanding attention.

*Look at him,* it whispered. *Our mate. We need to see him.*

I shoved the feeling down. Hard.

Brought another bite of food to my mouth.

My hand shook slightly. The fork trembled.

I gripped it tighter.

More silence.

This was torture. Worse than any beating. Worse than—

Nicolas cleared his throat.

The sound cracked through the quiet like a gunshot.

I jumped. Actually jumped. My fork clattered against the plate.

Heat flooded my face. Shame crawled up my neck.

I grabbed the fork again. Tried to steady my breathing.

When I finally risked a glance up, Nicolas was staring at me.

Not eating anymore. Just watching.

His expression was unreadable. Carefully blank.

But something flickered in his eyes. Something that looked almost like... amusement?

The mate bond pulled at me. Made me want to move closer. Made my skin burn with awareness of him.

I had no idea how long we’d been sitting here. Minutes? Hours?

Everything blurred together into one endless loop of mechanical eating and suffocating silence.

Finally—finally—my plate was almost empty.

I’d managed to force down most of the food. Though I couldn’t have said what any of it tasted like.

My stomach felt heavy. Uncomfortable.

But I’d done it. Gotten through dinner without causing a scene. Without—

I looked down at my plate.

There was something white mixed in with the vegetables. Small. Square.

I’d been eating around it this whole time without thinking.

What was—

Oh.

A napkin.

I’d almost eaten it. Had probably already consumed some of it mixed in with the food.

My face burned.

Stupid. So stupid.

I set down my fork carefully. Pushed my plate away slightly.

Kept my eyes down.

Prayed he hadn’t noticed.

"Are you finished?"

His voice made me flinch.

I nodded without looking up.

"Good."

A servant appeared immediately. Cleared our plates.

I sat frozen. Hands folded in my lap. Spine rigid.

Waiting for permission to leave.

"Sofia will take you back to your room," he said. His voice was flat. Emotionless. "Sleep well."

Then he was gone.

Footsteps retreating. A door opening and closing.

Silence.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

My entire body sagged. Tension draining away all at once.

Sofia appeared in the doorway. Smiling gently.

"Ready?"

I nodded. Stood on shaky legs.

Followed her back through the corridors.

Back to the massive bedroom.

"Good night," Sofia said at the door. "If you need anything, just call. I’m right down the hall."

"Thank you," I whispered.

She left.

I stood in the middle of the room for a long moment. Just breathing.

My heart was still racing. Pounding against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

I pressed my hand to my chest. Felt it hammering under my palm.

This was insane.

All of it.

Being here. In this palace. With him.

I moved to the bed. Sat on the edge.

The mattress was so soft. Too soft.

I’d probably sink right through it if I lay down.

My hands twisted in my lap. Restless. Anxious.

I should sleep. Should rest.

But every time I closed my eyes, I saw—

A knock at the door made me freeze.

Who—?

It was late. Sofia had just left. Who would—

"Hello?" A voice called through the door. Male. Light. Almost cheerful. "Anyone home?"