The King’s Daughter

The Dark Hallway

Chloe’s p.o.v.

The moment I stepped into the cool darkness of the hallway, I exhaled deeply, my smile slipping away like a mask I no longer needed.

The grand celebration, the countless spinning dances, the flood of curious eyes, it was all exhausting. I had mastered the art of effortless charm tonight, smiling when necessary, nodding at admirers I didn’t care to remember. But now, for just one moment, I could breathe.

Or so I thought.

A familiar scent hit me first, the sharp mix of pinewood and something darker, something that used to be mine. I froze in place for half a second before regaining control, carefully smoothing the fabric of my gown as I started walking again. The echo of heavy steps followed me, growing louder with every stride.

I knew it was him.

On the contrary, the hallway was empty, save for the two of us. Despite the dim lanterns casting flickering shadows across the marble walls, I didn’t turn around. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

But then he stepped directly in front of me, blocking my way with a quiet aggression that sent my pulse skittering. His tall figure loomed, his broad shoulders tensed, and his dark eyes—burning with emotions I couldn’t name were fixed on me like I was his prey.

For a heartbeat, the silence stretched, suffocating.

“Dylan,” I said coolly, raising a brow as if his presence was merely an inconvenience. “Can I help you with something? You look lost.”

I tilted my head, feigning innocent curiosity, though I could practically see the vein in his jaw tighten.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice low. It rumbled like a warning thunder.

“Don’t what?” I asked, lifting my chin just a bit higher. I’d waited far too long for this—this moment where I was untouchable and he could no longer break me.

His dark gaze swept over me, intense and lingering in ways that used to shake me. But not anymore.

“You’re really going to pretend you don’t know me?” he growled, taking a single step closer. The possessiveness rolling off him was suffocating, and I refused to let him see the way my heart pounded.

I met his glare with a small, effortless smile. “Oh, no,” I said slowly. “I do remember you now. Alpha Dylan, yes?” I paused, letting the silence sting before continuing. “How are you doing after all this time?”

His eyes darkened further, like a storm about to unleash.

“Stop it, Chloe,” he snapped, his voice biting. “I don’t know what game you’re playing—what this performance is—but I want the truth.”

“The truth?” I asked, folding my arms casually as I shifted my weight. “You think you want the truth, Dylan, but I promise you—after everything—you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked. ’Good.’ I huffed.

“Is this about making me look like a fool?” he pressed, his voice harder now. “Is that what all this is? You waltzing into this palace, parading around like—”

“Like what? Royalty?” I cut in smoothly, arching a brow. I let out a small laugh, cold and unbothered, because this time, I held the power. “If the truth bothers you so much, Dylan, I suggest you take it up with my father—the King.”

My words were laced with ice, and for a moment, something flickered in his expression—shock, confusion, and maybe even regret.

“Lies,” he spat, though I could tell the word wasn’t aimed at me so much as himself—his own disbelief cracking under the weight of the truth. “Serene told me—”

“Ah, yes, Serene,” I interrupted with mock sweetness. “The source of all your wisdom, I’m sure. Should I be flattered you let her dictate your thoughts again?”

“She told me you’re—”

“What?” I cut him off, my voice sharper than before. My smile dropped, and my hands fisted at my sides. “Say it. Say the word, Dylan. Call me what Serene thinks I am. A mistress? The King’s w***e? Is that what you truly believe of me?”

His mouth opened to retort, but the fire in my glare shut him up faster than I could’ve hoped.

“I’m not surprised,” I added bitterly. “The Alpha who rejected me, who barely touched me, who let his pack call me barren… the Alpha who gave his heart to someone else—why would he see anything but filth when he looks at me?”

His eyes softened—for a moment. It was so fleeting that I almost doubted I saw it.

But then he clenched his jaw again. “I never said—”

“Stop.” I stepped forward, close enough that my voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Let me save you the effort of pretending you care, Alpha. You. Don’t. Matter. Anymore.” I uttered bits by bits.

His body tensed, but I didn’t care. Every word that left my mouth was something I had wanted to say for years.

“Once, I thought you hung the very moon,” I continued, my voice soft and calm—too calm for the whirlwind I felt inside. “I thought you were my world. My Alpha. My mate. I broke myself trying to love you, trying to be worthy of a place in your pack. And for what? To be humiliated and tossed aside like trash.”

His breath hitched, just barely, and I didn’t stop.

“Now look at you,” I added, smiling again. “Chasing me down the hallway like a ghost from my past. How sad.”

I moved to step around him as I was done with the conversation, but his hand shot out to grip my wrist, halting me. The contact sent an unwanted shock of heat up my arm, and I bit back the instinct to flinch.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he said, his voice lower now, more pleading than demanding.

I slowly turned to look at him, his hand still wrapped around my wrist. His dark eyes searched mine—desperate for something, though I wasn’t sure what. But I wasn’t that girl anymore, the one who needed to prove herself to him.

“Release me,” I said softly, my voice deadly calm.

His grip loosened slightly, though he didn’t let go. “Is that really all I am to you now?” he whispered. “A ghost?”

I stared into his eyes, unblinking. “No. A lesson.”

He finally let me go, his hand falling limply to his side as if my words had knocked the wind out of him. I turned away without looking back, leaving him standing there in the darkness.