Moonveil Academy: Trapped With The Five Kings
Chapter 145: Her Scent Was Gone
Reign:
The east wing belonged entirely to me. Five floors of stone, dark wood, private rooms, office, gardens, pool, gym, study room, and everything else I had personally built and renovated over the years until there was nothing left of the original estate that I hadn’t changed.
I had built it into a place where nobody could reach me unless I wanted them to. During my Black Season, the entire wing became even more isolated.
Just as I had ordered, every servant had been sent away, and the moment I entered the wing, the heavy silence wrapped around me like a familiar cloak. I didn’t stop anywhere. I didn’t have the strength for it. My wolf was already restless beneath my skin, desperately craving the scent waiting for me downstairs, and I followed that instinct straight toward the basement.
The farther I walked, the more difficult each step became. The fever had climbed again while I was dealing with my father, and the strength I’d forced myself to display in the main house was rapidly disappearing. My wolf had tolerated the separation because there had been no other choice, but now that we were finally alone, its desperation became almost unbearable.
The pillow I had stolen from Elara’s dorm had been the only thing keeping us remotely sane these past few days. Her scent had dulled the worst edge of the Black Season, giving my wolf something familiar to focus on whenever the pain became too much. I had never experienced anything like it before, and I didn’t understand why something as simple as her scent could have such an effect on me. I only knew that without it, the last few days would have been significantly worse.
I reached the farthest room at the end of the basement corridor and nearly crashed into the door when my knees suddenly weakened. I caught myself against the stone wall, breathing hard, then forced my hand toward the handle. The moment the door opened, I stumbled inside and shut it behind me. I locked it, activated the protective ward, and finally leaned my entire weight against the door.
For several seconds, I simply stood there with my eyes closed, waiting for the familiar scent to reach me. My wolf practically clawed at my ribs in anticipation.
But then I opened my eyes.
Something was wrong.
The room was dark, but darkness had never been an obstacle for a werewolf. My eyes adjusted instantly, revealing every corner of the cold stone chamber. At first, nothing seemed unusual. The furniture was where it belonged. The shelves were untouched. The bed stood against the far wall. Everything looked almost exactly as I had left it.
Almost.
My gaze slowly moved across the room, and a strange heaviness settled in my stomach.
Someone had been here.
I could smell it now. Not a person exactly, but herbs. The same herbal scent the servants used whenever I instructed them to prepare the room before my arrival. The air smelled cleaner than it should have. The sheets had been changed. The curtains had been changed. Even the surface of the stone floor looked freshly cleaned.
I straightened slowly.
That was impossible. I had explicitly ordered every servant in the estate to stay out of the east wing until I gave them permission. After years of my Black Season, every servant knew better than to enter this part of the estate without my approval. They knew I wanted privacy. They knew I didn’t tolerate anyone entering my basement during those weeks. They also knew better than to question why.
So who had entered?
The answer came almost immediately.
Selene.
A bitter laugh almost escaped me. Of course, it could only be her.
For years, she had been obsessed with discovering why I disappeared into the basement every year for days. She had tried everything. She had asked servants questions, followed me, created excuses to come here, and even attempted to send people to investigate. Every attempt had failed because I had always been careful. She had never managed to enter the basement while I was here.
But today, I hadn’t been here. And she had been given the perfect opportunity.
While she created her ridiculous spectacle in the main house and kept my father occupied, she could easily have sent someone into the east wing. They could search the basement, look for anything that might explain what happened to me every year. And when they found nothing - or perhaps before they even finished searching - they could clean the room afterward.
It was a convenient excuse.
If I confronted her, she could simply claim that she had ordered the servants to prepare the room because she was concerned about my condition.
Clever and manipulative. Exactly the kind of thing Selene would do.
My wolf didn’t care about any of that. It cared about one thing. The scent of our mate.
I turned toward the bed. The pillow should have been there. I moved quickly, almost stumbling as I reached it. There were several pillows arranged across the bed, but the moment I grabbed the first one, my heart sank. Wrong scent. I threw it aside and grabbed another.
Nothing.
Another.
Nothing.
My breathing became uneven. "No," I whispered.
My hands moved faster, tearing through the pillows as my wolf grew increasingly frantic. Then I noticed it.
The covers. They were different. The pillowcases had been replaced along with the bedsheet and the blanket.
My eyes widened as the realization settled over me. The pillow was probably still here. But the scent was gone. My wolf let out a roar so violent that my entire body shook.
The only thing that had kept us sane through the worst days of the Black Season had disappeared. The only scent that had dulled the pain was gone.
I grabbed one of the pillows and pressed it desperately against my face, searching for even the faintest trace of her. Nothing. The herbal scent swallowed everything. My wolf thrashed violently inside me, claws scraping against the walls of my mind.
Then pain struck.
I dropped the pillow as the first wave slammed into my body so suddenly that my knees gave out. I crashed onto the cold stone floor, one hand catching myself as my claws burst from my fingertips and punctured the stone beneath me.
My teeth clenched.
Not again.
I knew this pain. I had known it since childhood. Before I could even recover from the first wave, another hit. Harder.
My entire body convulsed. I sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to make a sound as my wolf screamed inside me. My shoulders shook violently, claws digging deeper into the floor as I tried to anchor myself against the pain.
Then the third wave came. Then the fourth. And fifth. Each one worse than the last.
My vision blurred, sweat pouring down my face as I fought to remain conscious. I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached, determined not to give the pain the satisfaction of hearing me break.
Another wave tore through me and I collapsed further, forehead nearly touching the stone. The pain became unbearable. At the next wave, a sound finally tore from my throat before I could stop it.
A raw, agonized scream echoed through the empty basement.
I knew the nightmare had returned and there was no longer my mate’s scent keeping me sane anymore.
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