Betrayed By One. Bound To Three-Chapter 29: Burn Kingdoms.

Selena:

The royal chamber felt alive in a way no other room in the palace had since my return. My father’s belongings were arranged as they had been, polished wood gleaming softly in the morning light.

Books rested on shelves with quiet care, a faint scent of cedar and old parchment lingering in the air. I ran my fingers over the carved armrest of the chair he had once favored, tracing the curves as though I could feel the memory of him in every line.

I remembered the evenings we had spent here, him telling stories of the pack, of strategy and diplomacy, of leadership that demanded both strength and care. I could see him now, seated in this very chair, voice steady and warm, eyes sparkling with pride as he spoke to me.

I closed my eyes and let the memory settle. When I opened them again, a quiet vow formed in my chest: I would not let his legacy die. I would honor him, not just by surviving, but by rising to claim what had been meant for me—by commanding with the strength he had hoped I would one day possess.

I had barely settled into the chair, letting the familiar weight of the room ground me, when a soft knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," I called, my voice calm, carrying the authority of someone who had returned to claim what was hers.

Loretta stepped inside, eyes glimmering with emotion. "Selena," she said, voice trembling with what she wanted me to believe was relief and joy. "I am so happy you’re back. I cannot tell you how much we feared the worst."

"I’m happy to be back too," I replied, measured and gentle, careful not to reveal more than I intended.

She hesitated, then stepped further into the room, glancing around as though checking for anyone else. "Tell me," she said softly, conspiratorially, "do you remember anything? Anything from the day you went missing?"

I shook my head, a faint, polite smile touching my lips. "No. I remember nothing. It is as though the memory itself has been buried."

Her eyes flickered, searching mine for a crack, a hint, anything that would betray knowledge I didn’t intend to share. I held her gaze, calm, unwavering. "If there is something to remember, it has not come to me yet."

Loretta hesitated, then leaned closer, lowering her voice. "And the... rogues," she whispered, curiosity lacing every word. "They are... attractive, yes? Do you—do you have feelings for them?"

I lifted my chin, letting the subtle confidence in my posture carry my words. "No," I said softly. "I only have eyes for Silas. He is my mate. No one else matters."

A flicker of surprise, maybe even disapproval, passed across her face, quickly masked behind a tightening jaw. I allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile to curve my lips as I watched her process my words.

After a few more cautious questions, her expressions neutralizing, she finally gave a soft sigh and left, her footsteps fading down the corridor.

Alone, I let the quiet settle, then my thoughts turned to the three men who had brought me back—the ones whose loyalty I could not ignore. I stood, smoothing the folds of my dress, and moved toward the corridor leading to their chambers.

The first room I reached was empty. A faint echo suggested someone had left moments before. I frowned and moved to the next door, instinct guiding me.

It stood slightly ajar. I stepped inside.

All three were there. Their eyes lifted as I entered, alert, taut with energy.

"How are you?" I asked softly, careful not to overwhelm them, though I could feel the tension vibrating in the air.

Kael spoke first, voice low, strained. "Not exactly comfortable. It’s strange, being told to hide our feelings while you... while you are so close, so present."

Ronan’s amber eyes darkened. "It feels unnatural. We are meant to be by your side, and yet we are constrained."

Edris stepped forward, brushing his hand against mine briefly, a spark of connection. "It’s only because we respect you. Because we trust you to choose what’s right."

I smiled gently, letting the warmth of that bond settle around us. "I understand. I’ve only just returned. Give me time. Bear with me. Things will settle, and you will have your place again."

Silence hung, heavy.

Ronan straightened first. "You shouldn’t be talking to Silas alone," he murmured.

"I am not alone," I replied.

Kael’s eyes swept over me, assessing stability, not beauty. "He questioned you."

I crossed the room slowly, deliberately. "He asked me what I remembered."

"And?" Ronan pressed.

I stopped near the center, light catching my hair. "I told him I did not."

Kael resumed pacing — one step, then stillness. "You told him."

"Yes."

Ronan’s eyes darkened slightly. "Do you?"

I didn’t answer immediately. I turned toward the fire, watching the flames dance.

"He is unsettled," I said at last. "Not angry. Not relieved. Unsettled."

"Because you’re alive," Edris said smoothly.

"Yes," I agreed.

"And because you remember more than you admit."

Recognition, not accusation. My fingers tightened at my sides.

Ronan stepped closer, close enough to feel his heat. "He does not look at you as a male who feared losing his mate. He looks at you as a problem returned."

The air shifted. Kael halted.

"What do you believe happened in that forest?" I asked.

Ronan didn’t hesitate. "You were not lost."

Kael sharpened his voice. "You were not hunted."

Edris held my gaze. "You were betrayed."

Ther words settled, heavy.

I stayed composed, queenly as I had in the hall, then let it thin.

"I remember the trees," I said quietly.

Ronan stilled.

"The moon was hidden," I continued. "There was no wind."

Kael’s jaw tightened.

"And I remember," I finished, "that I was not alone."

Silence pressed in.

Ronan’s fists curled. "Did he—"

The scene of the night I was attacked returned in fragments. The sound of leaves breaking under Silas boots as he walked away.

"Yes," I said. Steady. No tremor, no theatrics. Just fact.

Kael cursed softly. Edris remained still.

"He believes you do not remember," Edris said.

"Yes."

"And you intend to keep it that way."

"Yes."

"Yet, you stood in that hall beside him." Ronan’s breathing tightened.

"I did."

"You spoke of marrying him."

"I did."

"Why?" Kael’s eyes flashed.

I stepped forward. "Because he thinks I’m still something he can maneuver. Because the elders believe stability rests in his hands. Because if I accuse him now without proof, the pack fractures."

Ronan’s voice dropped to a growl. "Proof can be extracted."

"No," I said, commanding.

"He expects panic. Fear. Reaction," I continued. "I will not give him what he expects."

Kael studied me. "Then what will you give him?"

"Time," I said. "And the illusion of safety."

Men reveal themselves when they believe they have already won.

Edris tilted his head, faint approval. "You intend to let him grow comfortable."

"Yes."

Ronan exhaled, tension coiling. "And when he does?"

I met each of their eyes. "Then he will make a mistake."

The fire cracked behind us.

Kael stepped closer. "If he touches you again—"

"He will not," I interrupted.

"And if he tries?"

"He has never touched me. I don’t think he would start now."

Silence.

Edris tilted his head. "He will move soon."

"I know."

"And the female?" Kael asked. "The one who wept."

My eyes cooled. "My adopted sister. She carries something that complicates his ambition."

Understanding dawned first on Edris. "Ah," he murmured.

Ronan’s gaze sharpened. "His heir."

"Yes."

The room held its breath.

Kael’s expression shifted, anger softening into calculation. "Then this is not merely about a throne."

"No," I agreed quietly. "It never was."

Ronan stepped fully into my space, hand resting lightly at my waist—not possession, but anchoring.

"You will not face him alone again," he said.

"I know," I replied, no doubt beneath the words.

I had no doubt that they would burn kingdoms for me, My job was to ensure they burned the right ones.