Betrayed By One. Bound To Three-Chapter 33: Killing her Wolf.

Third Person POV:

Silas did not return to his chambers after leaving Selena in the corridor. He did not slow his pace as he crossed the courtyard, nor did he acknowledge the guards who bowed as he passed.

The air felt too tight within the palace walls, too crowded with whispers and watchful eyes. Every servant had seen her return. Every elder had noticed the rogues at her side. Every member of the pack had felt the shift.

He had felt it most of all.

Selena had not resisted him openly, but she had not yielded. She had stepped away with calm precision, and the triplets had watched him as if measuring the distance between them.

He had seen the tension in their shoulders, the possessiveness in their stares. The way she had looked at them — not with obligation, but with ease.

They hovered too close. They stood too comfortably within his halls.

It was not simply irritation that followed him into the forest.

It was the unmistakable awareness that he was losing ground.

The path into the woods was narrow and shadowed, familiar to him despite how rarely he allowed himself to walk it. The trees grew thicker as he moved deeper, the sounds of the pack fading until only the rustling of leaves and the distant cry of night birds remained.

He found her where he always did, near the hollowed clearing where the earth dipped slightly and the air felt unnaturally still.

The witch stood beside a circle of stones, her hands clasped loosely before her as though she had been waiting.

"I was expecting you," she said without turning.

Silas stepped into the clearing, his expression hard. "Selena has returned."

"I know." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"She returned alive," he continued, anger threading through his voice despite his control. "And she brought three rogues with her. Into my pack. Into my halls."

"You should be grateful she lives," the witch replied calmly.

His jaw tightened. "Grateful."

"Yes."

"How can I be grateful," he asked, his voice lowering, "when she chose the very day I was to be crowned king to walk back through those gates."

The witch finally turned toward him, her eyes steady and ancient. "I warned you that forcing fate invites disruption."

"I did not come for warnings," he said sharply. "I came for solutions."

Silence stretched between them.

"Does she know?" he asked at last. "Does Selena know that the bond was false. That it has broken."

The witch’s gaze shifted slightly, as if listening for something beyond the clearing. "I cannot tell."

His brows drew together. "You cannot tell."

"When we first forged the bond," she said slowly, "I summoned her spirit. It responded to me. She was young then. Wolfless. Open. Her essence answered when called."

He remembered the ritual. The smoke. The blood. The certainty.

"After I heard she had returned," the witch continued, "I attempted to summon her spirit again."

"And?"

"It did not answer. It did not even acknowledge the call."

The forest seemed to grow quieter.

Silas felt something cold slide beneath his ribs. "What does that mean."

"It means her spirit is no longer accessible to me."

"Because."

"Possibly because she now has a wolf."

The words struck harder than he expected.

"She was declared wolfless," he said.

"She was," the witch agreed. "But spirits evolve. Bonds break. Power awakens."

The triplets flashed in his mind. Their proximity. Their watchfulness.

"If she has a wolf," he said slowly, "then the false bond would not hold."

"No."

"And she would feel it."

"Yes."

Anger flared hotter now, edged with something closer to urgency. "Then what can be done."

The witch studied him carefully before answering. "Is she still taking the herbs you give her."

He did not hesitate. "Yes. I have ensured it."

"And she believes it strengthens her."

"She does."

The witch nodded once. "Then continue."

His gaze sharpened. "Continue what."

"Ensure she drinks it daily."

"For what purpose."

The witch stepped closer, lowering her voice though no one else was near. "Those herbs were never meant to strengthen her. They were meant to suppress what might grow."

His expression darkened. "Explain."

"The mixture weakens the spiritual tether between wolf and host. In small doses it delays awakening. In continued doses it creates imbalance."

He stared at her.

"There is a sickness among our kind," she continued. "It is called Vermora. It eats slowly at the wolf within. The afflicted grow weaker. It can fracture the mind. Distort instincts. Create volatility. Their connection fades. Eventually the wolf dies."

The word lingered in the clearing like smoke.

"You gave her Vermora," he said quietly.

"I gave her the seed of it," the witch corrected. "Only if continued."

Silas’s mind moved quickly now, calculating consequences. If a wolf had begun to awaken within Selena, the herbs would suffocate it before it matured. If her spirit had strengthened, it would weaken again.

"And if the wolf dies," he asked, "what remains."

"She remains. Human. Powerless. Dependent."

The forest wind shifted faintly through the trees.

"Is there an antidote," he asked.

"Yes."

"Tell me where to find them, so I can destroy them."

"They are rare ingredients. Difficult to gather. Difficult to recognize unless one knows what to look for."

His eyes hardened. "Ensure that no such remedy reaches her."

The witch held his gaze. "You would condemn her wolf to death."

"If a wolf exists," he replied coldly, "it threatens what is mine."

"And if she discovers what you have done."

"She will not."

"You speak with certainty again."

"I speak with preparation."

He turned to leave, decision already settled within him. Control would not be reclaimed through touch or title alone. If choice threatened his position, then choice would quietly narrow.

"Silas."

He stopped but did not face her.

"There are consequences to tampering with awakening," the witch said. "Vermora does not always move predictably. It can scar more than the wolf."

He considered that only briefly.

"She will live," he said.

"Yes," the witch agreed softly. "But she may never be what she might have become."

"That is not your concern."

"No," the witch replied. "It is yours."

Silence stretched again.

"You walk a dangerous path," she continued. "If the rogues suspect. If her spirit strengthens despite this. If fate intervenes again."

"Fate," he said quietly, "has already interfered."

And this time he would not allow it to rewrite what was his.

He stepped out of the clearing, the weight of the forest closing behind him.

Selena had returned stronger than expected.

But strength could be thinned. Quietly. Patiently.

And if something had begun to awaken inside her, he would see to it that it never survived long enough to matter.