Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate-Chapter 162: Desperate Enough...

The night was calm, except for the sound of leaves rustling as Selene quietly left the palace in the dark. Her silk robe was light and silent as she quickly walked along a hidden path used by servants, heading towards the edge of the city.

Her heart raced, but not out of fear. It was rage.

Damian had ignored her. Again.

No matter what she did—her charm, her beauty, her status—he refused to look at her the way he looked at her. Evelina.

Selene gritted her teeth. That pathetic traitor was ruining everything.

But not for much longer.

She had tried patience. She had tried seduction. Now, it was time for something more... direct.

The path was narrow and wound through a thick forest on the edge of Arcadia. These were the dark places where illegal things unfolded, away from the palace’s watchful eyes and the court’s judgement.

Selene moved swiftly, her silk robe barely making a sound against the cool night air. The kingdom’s laws forbade witchcraft, but that had never stopped those desperate enough from seeking it.

And tonight, she was desperate.

A bright full moon shone high above the treetops, lighting up the clearing ahead with its silvery glow. In the middle of the clearing, between the twisted roots of old trees, stood a small, crooked hut that looked like it was barely standing.

Smoke drifted slowly from the chimney, blending with the strong smell of herbs and something strange—something that felt unnatural.

Selene hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward and pushing the door open..

As soon as she entered, the incense in the air filled her nostrils. Candles flickered softly on shelves filled with glass bottles, dried flowers, herbs, and all sorts of odd trinkets. The smell of burnt sage filled the room, covering up a stronger scent lurking underneath.

A woman stood at the center of the room, draped in dark, tattered robes. Her face was hidden beneath the shadow of her hood, but when she turned, two sharp, golden eyes locked onto Selene.

The witch’s lips curled into a knowing smile. "Ah. A royal."

Selene squared her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. "I need something."

The witch chuckled, a dry, crackling sound. "They always do." She moved closer, tilting her head slightly. "And what does the lovely Lady Selene seek? Power? Beauty?"

Selene’s jaw tightened. "I want him to want me."

The witch raised an eyebrow.

Selene inhaled sharply, lowering her voice. "Prince Damian."

The witch hummed thoughtfully, then moved toward a shelf, her long fingers trailing over glass bottles filled with shimmering liquids. "Ah. The reluctant prince." She scanned the shelf before her, turning briefly to Selene. "You know, I saw you coming."

Selene raised her chin. "Then you know what I want."

The witch chuckled. "You wish to ensnare the prince." She plucked a tiny glass bottle filled with a shimmering golden fluid and held it between her fingers. "This is not a love potion, my dear. Love cannot be forced."

Selene scoffed. "Who said anything about love?"

The witch smirked knowingly. "Ah. You wish for desire then."

Selene said nothing. She didn’t need to.

The witch swirled the golden liquid in the vial. "This will heighten your natural pheromones. Wolves are creatures of instinct, are they not?" She tilted her head. "With this, Damian will find you... irresistible."

Selene’s breath quickened. "And it’s safe?"

The witch cackled. "If used correctly." She handed her the vial, then leaned in closer, speaking in a low tone. "But be warned—too much, and it will not only affect the prince."

Selene rolled her eyes. "That’s not my concern." She dropped a small velvet pouch of gold onto the table and turned sharply.

This time, Damian would not ignore her.

She would make sure of it.

****************

Selene stood before her mirror, her fingers gripping the vial tightly. She had already taken a single sip. The liquid had gone down smoothly, leaving behind a faint warmth that spread through her body.

She leaned closer, examining herself.

Her lips were fuller, her skin seemed to glow, and her scent—

Selene inhaled deeply.

It was intoxicating.

This was it. The final push.

She had arranged for a chance encounter with Damian in the palace gardens. A quiet, intimate setting where the moonlight would work in her favor. Where she could finally make him see her. Want her.

Selene smirked, sliding the vial into her pocket before making her way toward the gardens.

********

Damian exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he made his way through the palace corridors. The last few hours had been spent strategising with Jasper and Evelina, and though he wouldn’t admit it, exhaustion was starting to creep in.

As he stepped into the garden, the cool night air helped ease the tension in his muscles.

Then, he caught a scent.

Damian tensed immediately.

It was sweet—too sweet. Like honey, but richer. Darker.

His wolf stirred restlessly. A haze threatened to settle over his mind, and he clenched his fists, grinding his teeth.

Then he saw her.

Selene stood beneath the silver glow of the moon, her golden curls cascading over her shoulders. She was watching him with half-lidded eyes, her lips curved in a sultry smile.

"Damian," she purred.

His wolf growled.

Selene took a slow, deliberate step toward him, her scent intensifying.

Something wasn’t right.

Damian’s instincts screamed at him to turn away, but his body felt sluggish, like a force was trying to pull him in.

Selene smirked. It was working.

She reached out, her fingers barely grazing his arm. "You’re tense," she murmured. "Let me—"

"Selene," Damian’s voice was sharp. "What did you do?"

Selene tilted her head. "I don’t know what you mean."

Damian staggered back, his vision blurring slightly. He tried to shake it off, but the heat was building in his chest, his body reacting against his will.

His heart pounded.

His skin burned.

Storm snarled.

The scent was overwhelming.

Damian’s body burned, his breath coming out in slow, labored exhales as his wolf fought against the thick haze settling over his mind. His hands curled into tight fists, nails biting into his palms as he forced himself to stay rooted in place.

She slowly approached him, her golden eyes glowing in the moonlight. Her gown clung to her curves, her skin glowing like a goddess from heaven.

His vision was blurry, his instincts screaming. Every part of him told him something was wrong, but the thick, sweet scent enticed him like a siren.

"Damian," Selene purred, reaching up to trail her fingers along the sharp line of his jaw. He stiffened at the touch, his muscles locked in resistance. "Why do you keep fighting me?"

Her voice was soft and seductive, like a whisper against his skin.

Damian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to step back. "Selene... I don’t—"

She closed the space between them before he could finish.

Her hands smoothed over his chest, fingers splaying over the fabric of his tunic as she looked up at him through thick lashes. "You don’t what, my prince?" she murmured, pressing herself against him.

The heat rushed through him again, making his inner wolf growl and pace restlessly. He usually felt sharp and in control, but now that control seemed far away, as if something was pulling at his will and trying to make him give in.

Selene smiled, sensing his hesitation. "Why have you been avoiding me?" she whispered. Her lips brushed against his jaw, barely a touch, but enough to send another pulse of heat through his body.

His breath came out heavier, and he hated it. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t a man controlled by lust. And yet... Her scent. The way her body pressed against his. The warmth of her skin.

A low growl rumbled in his throat, his grip tightening at his sides.

Selene tilted her head up, brushing her lips against his in a ghost of a kiss. "I know you want me," she whispered. "I’ve seen it in your eyes."

Damian squeezed his eyes shut.

This isn’t real.

His wolf fought back against the haze, but his body—his body betrayed him. His breathing was ragged now, his head clouded, his pulse hammering beneath his skin.

Selene took advantage of his hesitation.

Her lips pressed fully against his in a slow, deliberate kiss.

Damian inhaled sharply as fire rushed through his veins, his wolf pushing against his restraint. Selene moaned softly into his mouth, threading her fingers through his dark hair as she deepened the kiss, pressing herself closer, molding her body to his.

His hands twitched at his sides. A war raged in his mind—pull away, get out, wake up—

Selene’s arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him in further. "You feel it, don’t you?" she whispered between kisses, her lips trailing along his jaw, down to his throat. "This pull between us... it’s always been there, Damian."

His hands moved on their own, gripping her waist tightly.

A triumphant smirk played on Selene’s lips. "That’s right," she murmured, nipping softly at his skin. "Stop fighting me. You don’t have to pretend anymore."