Chapter 12:
Leon's Point of View
She was late.
The courtyard was already soaked in the lazy gold of morning sun, and the air carried the mingled scent of steel, rosemary, and something sweeter. Something... uniquely hers.
When Aurielle finally strolled in, chin up, hips swaying with bratty defiance, wearing tight black training pants and a cropped tank that hugged all the wrong ideas into all the right places—I didn't smile.
But gods, I wanted to.
She didn't know who I really was.
That made this even more fun.
"You're late," I said flatly, arms crossed, shirt clinging to the sweat on my back.
She didn't flinch. Just dropped her bag with a thunk and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Time is a human construct."
I tilted my head, lips twitching. "So is humility. Apparently."
She turned on her heel, one hand on her hip. "Are we gonna fight, or are you just here to flirt and make me hate you more?"
I cracked a slow smirk. "Darling… with me, it's always both."
There it was—the flicker in her eyes.
Annoyance. Curiosity. Something warmer.
She hated me. But she couldn't look away.
She came at me with a wild, angry kick. Sloppy form. No discipline.
I caught her ankle mid-air and twisted—not hard, just enough.
She hit the mat with a sharp grunt.
Her growl was everything.
I knelt beside her, our chests brushing, our mouths too close.
"You fight like you talk."
She shoved at me. "And you breathe like a narcissist."
I leaned in closer, voice a soft blade. "Careful, Princess. The line between hate and want… is thinner than your patience."
She blinked. Her breath caught. And for a second, just one, she forgot she hated me.
Then she shoved again, hard, and stormed across the mat.
I let her.
Because she had no idea what she was doing to me.
"''
After training
I move to take a shower before I returning back to my mum and little sister back at the mansion.
I decide to visit the mansions library before I left, do see if there's anything that could help with Aurielle's training but I found nothing do I gave up.
After some hours I heard noises.
I was upstairs in the library, pretending to be interested in a history of vampire-werewolf treaties, when I heard them.
Luna. Loud as hell.
And another girl.
Callista Drake. I recognized her quickly as Callista Drake, the sluty type. I've seen her around elite gatherings—the spoiled daughter of a council member, rumored to have a thing for power and fangs.
They'd snuck into the mansion probably to visit Auri, but instead stumbled upon Valen talking to the Alpha.
They were whispering, too loud to be stealthy, right outside The Alpha's office.
"…Leon Sterling. The Nightveil heir. Don't tell the girls yet—it'll distract them from training…"
Valen's voice, clipped and serious.
So much for staying hidden, I gulped down the bottle of water in my hand.
Luna gasped like someone told her God had a six-pack.
"Leon? Leon Sterling? The universal tongue god of the East?" Her voice cracked with disbelief,"
"I thought that post was edited! Bitch, I nearly printed it out and framed it." Callista voiced.
"Yeah whatever but the name stuck.... when I read my mother's files I didn't think it was real, that he would really come to our pack,"
Callista, ever the snake, hissed, "And he's here? Training Auri?, why does she always get the good guys? but I won't give up. He's mine. Period."
I rolled my eyes and shut the book.
So much for subtlety.
At night at I walked along the corridor, ready to leave for today.
Then I saw her.
She waited until this late.
The hallway was dim, moonlight painting silver against the floor. I had just locked the weapons vault when Callista slid into view, a silk robe barely clinging to her shoulders, lip gloss shimmering like bloodlust.
Her smile was practiced. Deadly.
"I know who you are," she purred, dragging one finger down my chest.
I didn't move.
"Nightveil royalty," she whispered. "Power. Bloodline. Legacy." Her eyes flicked to my lips. "And now… here."
She pushed up against me, her thigh sliding between mine.
"If I keep your secret… can I taste you?"
She didn't wait for an answer. Just pressed her lips to mine—hungry, slick, rehearsed.
I kissed her back.
Out of boredom. Out of curiosity. But it didn't feel like anything.
She moaned. My hand found her throat, soft grip, no pressure—just a warning. Her breath caught.
My hand wrapped around her throat.
"Is this what you want?" I murmured.
She nodded desperately.
I pushed her against the wall, let her grind. Let her feel the hardness of my thigh, the slow drag of my fingers under her robe, parting slick heat and aching want.
I gave her just enough—a stroke, a tease, two fingers inside her warmth just to hear her whimper.
She was Wet with heat and Desperation
I stroked her just enough to make her gasp—but never enough to satisfy.
But when she shivered and gasped, reaching for more, my mind wasn't on her.
It was on Aurielle.
Her fire. Her anger. Her mouth.
She was the storm I wanted to drown in.
And this? This was just noise.
I pulled back.
"You're not who I want," I said flatly.
Callista stared, panting, mascara smudged. Her pride cracked in two.
"You'll regret this," she hissed.
But I was already walking away.
I got into my car and made my way to the Valen mansion.
I didn't know, just opened the door to her office.
Valen didn't look me up when I entered, probably already senses my presence the moment I entered the gates.
"What's the meaning of this?" Valen asked coldly her voice trying to mask her annoyance.
"You let them find out."I say trying not to clench my jaw.
"I didn't tell them."She replied still not meeting my gaze"They overheard?"
She sighed. "You're getting too involved."
"I'm doing exactly what you brought me here for."
"She's not ready, Leon."
"She will be."
Her eyes found mine, sharper now.
"And what about you? Are you ready?"
I stared at the fire, jaw tight.
"She hates me," I said. "But I can't stop thinking about her."
Valen went still.
"That's dangerous."
I stepped forward, shadowed in flickering flame.
"So am I."
[TO BE CONTINUED…]