The Alpha's Forbidden Vow novel Chapter 105

POV: Cora

Zane’s questions were a delicate, dangerous dance.

He was an Alpha King, his mind a sharp, analytical weapon, even with parts of it missing.

He was searching for the truth, for the context to the raw, undeniable bond he now felt for the woman across the cave.

And I was the sole keeper of that truth.

It gave me a power I had never known, and it was a terrifying, intoxicating thing.

“Tell me about the Mating,” he commanded one evening, his gaze intense. “I have no memory of it. Only… the result.” He gestured to the faint, silver mark on his own neck.

I lowered my eyes, arranging my features into a mask of solemn, reluctant honesty.

“It was… violent, Alpha,” I said, my voice a soft, pained whisper.

This part was true. I would give him pieces of the truth, wrapped in a narrative that served my own purpose.

“The poison and the rut… they had taken hold. You were not yourself. You were a creature of pure instinct.”

He flinched, a look of self-loathing passing over his face. Good.

“And Selene?” he pressed. “What was her part in it?”

This was the critical moment. The moment where a single word could change everything.

The truth was that Selene had been magnificent. She had been terrified but brave. She had faced him down, her love a shield against his feral power. She had endured the agonizing marking and, in doing so, had anchored his soul and saved his life.

But I did not tell him that.

My own survival was a cold, hard stone in my gut, outweighing the guilt that pricked at my conscience.

My old coven was still out there. The rogues were still hunting.

I needed his protection. And a grateful, slightly dependent Alpha was a far more reliable shield than one who was completely and utterly devoted to another woman.

He believed me.

My lie had solidified his own deepest, most insecure fears: that his mate, while bound to him, was not his equal in strength. That she was, in some fundamental way, a liability.

A pang of guilt, sharp and unwelcome, shot through me.

I hadn't wanted to truly hurt her.

But my need for safety, for a shield against the darkness that hunted me, was a more powerful instinct.

I had secured my place at his side, as his trusted confidante, his healer.

I had saved his life, and in return, he would protect mine.

It was a fair trade.

Even if it was built on a foundation of carefully constructed lies.