Chapter 237: Bed her

The air between them was thick enough to choke. Clara’s question still rang in the chamber, slicing through the silence:"Who is she?"

Jared had turned, his back rigid, one hand gripping the carved banister with such force the wood groaned. He did not answer. The golden gleam of his eyes flickered dangerously in the torchlight, but his mouth remained a hard, unyielding line.

Clara took a step toward him, her gown whispering against the stone floor. "Say it," she pressed. "If you have found your mate, then admit it."

"There is no one," Jared bit out, his voice cold, flat, final.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, low and sharp. "You lie, Jared. And you expect me to swallow it like a fool. Do not insult me. I know why you spurn me. I know why you refuse the very duty you forced upon me."

He spun then, eyes blazing molten gold. "Enough." The single word cracked like a whip.

But Clara did not flinch. She lifted her chin, her voice steady though her chest burned with fury. "You had my mate killed—slaughtered before my eyes. You told me it was for my sake. For duty. So that I could serve you, belong to you, give you children. You shackled me to this cage of a title, stripped me of choice. And now you deny me the very thing you demanded of me."

Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out, her gaze hard as steel. "You are a hypocrite, Jared."

He stepped toward her, each stride deliberate, the weight of his aura pressing on her chest like a boulder. But still, she did not back away.

"You want me to believe you?" she continued, her voice ringing in the chamber. "Then prove it. Prove there is no mate. Prove that your Luna is not beneath you. Bed me now."

The silence that followed was deafening. Jared’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. His golden eyes burned holes into her, but his silence—his silence told her everything.

Clara’s lips curved into a cold smile. "You cannot, can you?" she whispered.

Her voice grew louder, sharper. "Fine. If you will not, then I will make you."

She pivoted sharply, her gown swirling about her ankles as she strode to the chamber doors. She yanked them open with a force that startled the two servants passing in the corridor. Both froze—one with a tray of bread, the other carrying folded linens. Clara’s eyes swept them and landed on the girl.

"You," Clara commanded, pointing a slender finger at her. "Come here."

The young servant hesitated, her eyes going wide. She was no more than twenty, her dark hair bound in a simple braid, her plain dress rumpled from work. She glanced nervously at Jared, who stood like a storm contained, and then back to Clara.

"L-Luna?" she stammered, her voice trembling.

Clara’s expression hardened. "Did you not hear me? Come."

The girl obeyed at once, setting the linens aside and stepping hesitantly into the chamber. She bowed her head low, hands clasped tightly in front of her. "Yes, Luna."

The door shut behind her with a heavy thud, leaving only the three of them.

Clara gestured sharply to Jared. Her voice was clear, commanding. "Take her, Jared. If you will not have me, then bed her. Right here, before me. Show me you are not bound by some mate. Show me you are still an Alpha who honors his Luna’s will."

The servant gasped softly, her head snapping up. Her eyes darted between them, wide with shock. "L-Luna, I—"

"Silence," Clara cut her off. She stepped closer, her blue eyes blazing. "You will obey me. If I command it, you will spread your legs for your Alpha and do your duty. Do you understand?"

The girl swallowed hard, her face flushing crimson. She bowed quickly, lowering her head again. "Y-yes, Luna..."

Inside, her heart raced, pounding so loudly she thought it might burst. She could scarcely believe what she was hearing—what she was being asked. Rumors had long swirled through the keep: that the Luna was barren, cursed, unfit to give the Alpha an heir. That Jared would take his pleasure in taverns, in hunting camps, but never with his wife. And now, here she was, offering her to him. Her.


Excitement flickered hot and sharp in the pit of her stomach. To be touched by the Alpha—chosen, even if only by command—was something the other servants whispered of with envy. But she dared not show it. Her face remained a mask of meek obedience, though her lips trembled with barely concealed anticipation.

Jared’s fury detonated.

His palm slammed down onto the table beside him, rattling goblets and scattering parchment. His voice roared, sharp as thunder. "Clara!"

Clara did not move, did not waver. "Do it," she demanded. "If you will not have me, then prove to me—prove to all of us—that you are not bound. Or admit the truth and name her."

The servant stood frozen, trembling visibly, her breath caught in her throat. She dared not lift her head, though heat rushed through her veins, her knees weak with a cocktail of terror and illicit desire.

Jared’s chest heaved, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack bone. He took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between him and the trembling girl. She stiffened, breath hitching as his golden gaze bore down upon her. For a heartbeat, she thought he might actually obey, that Clara’s will might compel him.

But then his hand shot out—not in desire, but in wrath.

His fingers clamped around the girl’s arm, yanking her forward before shoving her aside towards the door with a force that sent her stumbling into the wall. She let out a small cry, clutching her arm, her heart plummeting with bitter disappointment even as fear rooted her in place.

Jared turned on Clara, his eyes blazing like molten suns. "Do you think me a whore? Do you think I would rut before you like a beast, with a servant no less?" His voice thundered through the chamber, vibrating in the very stone.

Clara’s eyes flashed, her voice sharp as a blade. "I think you are a coward! You killed my mate for duty, and yet you deny yours now. You cannot bed me, you will not bed her, because you are already bound. Your silence damns you, Jared!"

The servant pressed herself against the wall, trembling, wishing she could vanish. But her ears rang with every word, her blood still hot with the thrill of being chosen, if only for a moment. She lowered her head, hiding the glimmer of disappointment that she had not been touched.

Jared’s growl filled the chamber, a rumbling snarl that shook the torches in their sconces. His aura swelled, heavy, suffocating. The servant whimpered, her knees buckling beneath its crushing weight. Clara, though, stood firm, her spine straight, her chin high despite the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes.

"You want to test me?" Jared roared, stepping closer. "You want to drive me to shame before my own? Then hear me, Clara: enough!"

His hand lifted, palm hovering over her brow.

Clara froze, her breath catching. "No," she whispered, realization dawning. "You would not..."

But he did.

His dominance surged into her, raw and overwhelming, an Alpha’s command that sank like claws into her mind. Clara gasped, staggering, her knees buckling beneath the crushing wave of will. The world narrowed to his voice, echoing inside her skull.

Leave.

Her tears spilled over, hot and furious. "Jared, please—"

Leave.

Her body moved against her will, her feet dragging her toward the door. She fought, every muscle screaming in resistance, but the command gripped her like chains. She sobbed, her voice breaking. "You swore—you would never use this against me. Not me. Not your Luna!"

LEAVE!

The word thundered in her skull, absolute, unrelenting. With a strangled cry, Clara stumbled to the door, flung it open, and fled into the corridor. The heavy wood slammed shut behind her with a sound like finality.

For a long moment, she stood there, trembling, tears streaming down her face. Her chest heaved, her hands shook, her whole body wracked with the humiliation of it. He had cast her out. He had used his dominance against her—something no Alpha should ever do to his Luna.

Her tears burned away, replaced with ice. Slowly, she straightened, her blue eyes hardening, her jaw setting.

If Jared would not admit it, she would find the truth herself. She would uncover the woman who had stolen what was rightfully hers.

And when she did—she would do to Jared’s mate exactly what Jared had done to hers.

Her footsteps were loud and angry as she headed down the stairs straight to her own rooms since Jared insisted that they have separate chambers.

But even after she got to her room she didn’t feel at ease. Her mind too distracted to notice the slight scent of blood that clung to her personal maid even as she scurried around the room.