Betrayed By One. Bound To Three-Chapter 27: jealous?

Selena.

The moment I closed the door to my chamber, the silence pressed in heavier than the ceremony grounds had just moments before.

It was strange how quickly celebration could twist into tension, how a coronation meant to replace my father’s legacy could dissolve into whispers the moment I walked in alive.

I leaned against the door for a heartbeat, letting myself breathe, though my thoughts refused to settle into anything resembling calm.

So much had happened in a single morning that it felt as though time itself had bent unnaturally. I had stopped a coronation that was never meant to happen without me.

I had faced elders whose eyes carried accusation rather than celebration. I had watched Loretta collapse into tears so quickly that it almost would have been convincing, had her gaze not flickered toward the crowd first, measuring their reaction before deepening her sobs.

Her tears had been too careful, meant to fool me, only if she knew.

I walked slowly toward the center of my room, my fingers grazing the familiar furniture, though even the familiarity felt distant.

This had once been my space when I was younger, before responsibilities grew heavier and expectations sharper. Yet now it felt borrowed, like something temporarily returned to me rather than something I truly possessed. Everything felt misplaced.

Silas had looked shocked when he saw me, though he had hidden it quickly beneath that composed exterior he wore so effortlessly before the pack. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He had expected me to be dead—and yet I was here.

That knowledge made his expression, half-hidden as it was, far more unsettling than any anger could have been.

Beneath his calm, something tense strained to break free—and I could feel it.

I exhaled slowly, realizing that remaining inside these four walls would only allow my thoughts to spiral further.

If I were to stay here, if I were to reclaim my place in this pack, then hiding inside a guest-like chamber would not do. This was my home long before it was ever meant to be Silas’s kingdom.

And there was one room that truly mattered.

My father’s chamber.

The king’s chamber.

If I were to stand before the pack as his daughter, then I would do so fully. I would not shrink myself to make others comfortable.

With that resolve steadying me, I straightened and moved out of my door, closing it with quiet determination.

The corridor beyond was quiet, though footsteps echoed from the far end. I had barely taken two steps when I saw him approaching.

Silas.

He slowed when he noticed me emerging, and though his posture remained relaxed, there was something watchful in his gaze that sharpened as he drew closer.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his tone light but edged with curiosity.

"I am," I replied evenly, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "I have decided that I will begin using my late father’s chamber instead."

For a brief moment, something flickered across his face that I could not quite decipher. It was not anger exactly, but it was not approval either. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly before he smoothed his expression again.

"That is a big decision," he said carefully. "You have only just returned."

"This was my home long before today," I answered. "If I am to remain here, I see no reason to stay confined to my room."

His eyes searched mine, and I could sense the questions he didn’t voice.

"If that is what you want," he said smoothly, "then you shall have it."

There was something about the ease of his agreement that unsettled me more than resistance would have. Silas was not a man who surrendered control lightly, and yet he did not challenge me.

As we began walking down the corridor together, he added almost casually, "Since the lower floor is now filled with guests who arrived for the coronation, I had to rearrange some accommodations. The rogues who accompanied you have been given rooms upstairs, near the king’s chamber."

I glanced at him. "That is perfectly fine."

He studied me for a second longer than necessary, and then a faint, almost teasing smile touched his lips. "You are not concerned for your safety?"

I tilted my head slightly. "Why would I be?"

He gave a soft, almost amused exhale. "The problem with you, Selena, is that you have always been naive. You see only the good in people and assume it is all that exists."

You mean, like I saw in you, stupid.

"I do not believe that makes me naive," I replied calmly. "It makes me hopeful."

"A beautiful woman choosing to sleep on the same floor as rogues should at least pretend to feel cautious," he said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "They are not pack-bound. They answer to no one."

His choice of words lingered in my mind. There was no overt insult in them, yet there was something beneath, something almost probing.

"Are you jealous?" I asked softly.

He stopped walking for half a second before continuing, and when he answered, his voice was smooth but lower than before, it carried a quiet possessiveness I had always wanted to see.

"Yes," he said simply.

The directness of his admission surprised me more than the statement itself. I searched his face for mockery but found none.

What a great actor.

"You are my mate, after all," he continued. "It would be foolish of me not to care who shares your proximity."

I considered his words carefully before responding. "If truly you are my mate and you believe that," I said gently, "then you should have nothing to fear."

He looked at me then, truly looked at me, as though trying to decipher whether my calm was ignorance or confidence. There was a long pause where neither of us spoke, the corridor stretching quiet around us.

Finally, he gave a small nod, the faintest curve of a smile touching his lips once more.

"I suppose that depends," he murmured.

"On what?" I asked.

"On whether the world sees you the way I do," he replied.

There was something in his tone that I could not quite grasp, something layered beneath the surface of possessiveness. It should have felt protective, perhaps even flattering, yet instead it left a subtle chill tracing down my spine.

Still, I refused to show discomfort.

"This is my home," I said steadily as we resumed walking. "And I will not live in it as though I am afraid."

Silas said nothing to that, though I felt his gaze linger on me for several steps more than necessary.