He left before she could respond, the doors closing with a soft click that somehow sounded like a cell locking.
Aria stood alone in her beautiful prison, surrounded by the tools she'd need to prove both their theories or destroy them, and tried not to think about the fact that she'd just seen vulnerability in the Alpha King's eyes.
Tried not to think about how, for one traitorous moment, she'd wanted to comfort him.
The bond suppressants were still working. She felt nothing.
So why did her chest ache?
A knock at the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts. Lyric entered, carrying a tablet and wearing that perpetual sunshine smile.
"Dr. Thorne! His Majesty said you'd want to begin work immediately. I've prepared an inventory of available materials and—oh my goodness, are you crying?"
"No." Aria wiped at her eyes angrily. Exhaustion. Stress. Definitely not grief for a mother she barely remembered, or fear that she might be wrong about everything, or the creeping suspicion that Kael Silvercrest wasn't the enemy she needed him to be.
"It's okay to be overwhelmed," Lyric said gently, setting down the tablet and approaching with the caution usually reserved for spooked animals. "This is all happening so fast. The bond, the palace, the pressure. Anyone would struggle."
"I don't feel the bond," Aria said flatly. "I can't. I've been suppressing it for years."
Lyric's eyes widened. "You... what? But that's... why would you—"
"Because I watched what fated bonds do to wolves. The obsession, the violence, the complete loss of autonomy." Aria moved to the nearest computer terminal, powering it on with more force than necessary. "I chose to study the bond objectively, and you can't do that while drowning in it."
"But the bond is beautiful," Lyric protested. "My mate and I—"
"Are the exception, not the rule." Aria pulled up a blank document, fingers flying across the keyboard. "I've documented forty-seven cases of bond-related violence in the past three years alone. Forty-seven omegas hospitalized or killed by their fated mates. And those are just the reported ones."
Lyric was quiet for a long moment. "What do you need me to do?"
Aria glanced at her, surprised. "You're not going to argue? Try to convince me the bond is sacred?"
"You're going to do the research either way," Lyric said pragmatically. "I might as well help and see if you're right. My mate always says I'm too quick to accept what I'm told without questioning."
Despite everything, Aria felt a flicker of respect. "Smart wolf, your mate."
"The smartest." Lyric's smile returned, smaller but genuine. "So. Where do we start?"
Aria turned back to the computer, pulling up her mental list of experiments she'd been dying to run if she ever had proper equipment.
"Blood samples," she said. "I need to analyze the biochemical composition of active mate bonds versus unbonded wolves. We'll need volunteers—bonded pairs, rejected bonds, and controls."
"I can arrange that. What else?"
"Neural imaging. I want to see what the bond does to brain structure over time. Does it create new neural pathways or hijack existing ones? Is the damage permanent?"
Lyric nodded, taking notes on her tablet. "The Royal Physician has an MRI suite. I'll schedule time."
"And I need access to historical records. Every documented case of bond-rage, rejection sickness, forced bondings—everything the Council has tried to bury."
"That might be harder. Those archives are restricted."
"Then unrestrict them. I'm the Alpha King's mate now, right? Surely that comes with some privileges."
"I'll see what I can do." Lyric hesitated. "Dr. Thorne... if you prove the bond is parasitic, what happens then? To all the bonded pairs? To the entire foundation of our society?"
Aria met her eyes. "Freedom. Choice. The chance to love someone because we want to, not because biology demands it."
"And the wolves who are happy in their bonds?"
"They can choose to keep them. Real love survives choice. Parasitic compulsion doesn't."
The door opened again without warning. Both women turned as a man entered—tall, lean, wearing the nondescript uniform of palace staff. Something about him nagged at Aria's memory, but she couldn't place it.
"Pardon the interruption," he said quietly, his voice rough like gravel. "I'm Dane. I've been assigned to laboratory services. If you need anything—supplies, equipment, assistance—you let me know."
Aria studied him. Grey eyes that didn't quite meet hers. Ash-brown hair falling over his forehead. Hollow cheeks that spoke of hardship. And scars, barely visible at his collar, the kind that came from claws.
"Have we met?" she asked.
"No, Doctor. I'd remember." He busied himself organizing the chemical cabinet, movements efficient but nervous. "I'll just be here if you need me. Don't mind me at all."
But Aria couldn't shake the feeling that she knew him from somewhere. The way he moved. The cadence of his speech. Something—
"Dr. Thorne?" Lyric was watching her with concern. "Are you alright?"
"Fine." Aria shook off the feeling. Probably just stress-induced paranoia. "Let's get started. We're wasting daylight."
For the next several hours, Aria lost herself in work. Real work, with real equipment, making real progress. She and Lyric established baseline protocols, organized the laboratory into a functional workflow, and began compiling a list of volunteers for the initial study.
Dane—if that was even his real name—worked quietly in the background, staying out of the way but somehow always available when they needed something. He moved with the ease of someone familiar with laboratories, despite his staff uniform.
Another mystery. Aria was collecting them like trading cards.
By the time the light through the windows shifted to late afternoon gold, Aria had the framework for six months of research mapped out. It felt almost normal. Like she was back in graduate school, chasing theories and scientific truth, before everything became about revolution and revenge.
"You're smiling," Lyric observed.
Aria touched her face, surprised to find it was true. "I forgot what this felt like. Just... science. Discovery. No politics or danger or—"
"His Majesty requests your presence for dinner," a guard announced from the doorway.
The moment shattered. Right. She wasn't a free scientist. She was the Alpha King's captive mate, playing a role, living a lie.
"Tell His Majesty I'm busy," Aria said.
"It wasn't a request, Doctor."
Of course it wasn't.
Aria saved her work and stood, every muscle protesting. She'd been hunched over the computer for hours. "Fine. Give me five minutes to change."
"No need," Kael's voice came from behind the guard. He stepped into the laboratory, still in his earlier clothes but with a jacket added. "You look fine as you are."
Aria glanced down at herself. She'd finally surrendered to wearing one of the provided outfits—simple slacks and a blouse, at least, instead of the dress Lyric had tried to force on her. But she was rumpled, probably had coffee stains somewhere, and her hair was doing that thing where it escaped its bun in every direction.
"I look like I've been working," she said.
"Exactly." Kael's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "It suits you. Come on. We're eating in my private dining room, not the formal hall. No need to impress anyone."
The private dining room was smaller than she expected—intimate, even. A table set for two by a window overlooking the palace gardens. Simple food, no servers hovering.
Just the two of them.
Aria sat warily. "Where's the Council? The audience? I thought everything was supposed to be public and convincing."
"Not everything." Kael poured wine—red, expensive-smelling—and slid a glass toward her. "Even bonded mates are allowed private moments. Especially newly bonded ones."
"We're not bonded."
"They don't know that." He raised his glass in a mock toast. "To successful deception."
Aria didn't touch her wine. "What do you want, Kael?"
The use of his first name seemed to surprise him. "Can't a wolf have dinner with his mate?"
"I'm not your mate. I'm your prisoner."
"You're both." He set down his glass. "And I want to know what progress you made today. In the laboratory."
"Why? So you can report it to the Council?"
"So I can understand what I'm protecting you from." Kael leaned forward, elbows on the table, ice-blue eyes intense. "Elder Thaddeus requested an emergency session this evening. He's calling for your immediate execution, claiming you're too dangerous to keep alive even as my bonded mate. I need ammunition to shut him down."
Aria's blood chilled. "When is this session?"
"In two hours."
"And you're just telling me now?"
"I'm telling you over dinner like a civilized wolf instead of throwing you in a cell to keep you out of the way." Kael's jaw tightened. "Help me help you, Aria. What did you find today that I can use?"