Lianna: The long oak table was adorned with delicacies that could tempt even the most stoic appetite. I toyed with my fork, my thoughts clouded with indecision. Should I tell Edward about Ethan? Every instinct screamed that I should. But then again, why should I? I wasn’t a damsel in distress. I could handle Ethan on my own, couldn’t I? I glanced toward the large arched window, watching the trees sway lazily in the wind. The scent of roasted lamb and spiced wine lingered in the air, mingling with the faint floral aroma of fresh lilies adorning the table. My stomach twisted—not with hunger but with anxiety. When Edward entered, his presence immediately dominated the room. His broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, and the way he carried himself with effortless authority always had a way of calming me, even if I wouldn’t admit it aloud. “Welcome back,” I said softly, my lips curling into a smile. Edward raised a brow, clearly surprised when I stepped toward him. Befo
Edward: Harvey tossed a kerchief at me and I wiped the blood off my hand against the material, heaving a sigh before I let it drop to the ground and walked out of the warehouse. Harvey was beside me as I walked out of the warehouse. I was angry as hell. This was the second time in a row since we had a rogue attack and it was starting to feel like it was planned. I'd just dealt with the rogue Werewolves I found stealing from me. They were wolves without a Pack owing to the fact that they'd either been thrown out of their respective packs or had ran away for rebellion's cause. Though they gave most Packs problems, they had never chosen to mess me with me as they weren't ready to meet their deaths just yet. I didn't really bother myself over them because over the decades, they had stayed away from the Pack but seeing that they had done this to tear down sort of luck and had chosen to steal from me, I decided to sh
Lianna: My skin prickled with an insane sense of awareness as I sat in my bed, my legs curled into each other as I stared at the book in my hand. I'd been staring down at one page for the past one hour, words blurring in and out as I stared blankly into the pages. The words were all jumbled up and not making sense to me. Letting the book drop to the bed, I sat back before raking my fingers through my hair and letting out a sigh. A tiny headache was starting to bud up behind my head, pounding away like a blacksmith hitting away at his metal weapons. I couldn't stop thinking about last night with Edward. We had crossed boundaries. We had been crossing it from the onset but I didn't realise until now and now, it seemed kind of too late. And the fact that Ethan was slowly finding a way to crawl back into my life even made things worse. I soon picked the book up, thankful it was the last page and hurriedly reading it
Lianna: My breath was still ragged, my heart still hammering violently in my chest as I pressed myself against the tall bookshelf, my fingers clutching the fabric of my dress as though it could anchor me. The spot where Ethan had grabbed me throbbed, his touch lingering like a stain I couldn't scrub away. And now, in front of me, Edward stood before Ethan in unrestrained fury. His fists rained down on Ethan, each punch sending a sharp crack through the silence of the library. Ethan grunted, struggling to fight back, but Edward was relentless. There was no hesitation in his movements, no pause for breath. Just pure, unbridled rage. I swallowed hard, the coppery scent of blood thick in the air as Ethan’s head snapped back from another blow. His lip was split, blood trickling down his chin, but he only smirked, his breath shallow, his eyes filled with something sickeningly smug. Edward’s voice was low, menacing. “You’ll stay the hell away from her, Ethan. You already
*CHAPTER 77* I sat by my the window, staring out at the vast stretch of land beyond the palace, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of the untouched teacup in front of me. The sun had begun to set, casting a golden hue across the sky, but I found no comfort in its beauty. My mind was still reeling from what had happened in the library. Even when I heard the distant sound of raised voices—Edward and Ethan’s unmistakable tones clashing like swords—I didn’t move. I had no strength. A sharp knock on my door broke the stillness, and before I could say a word, Ingrid pushed it open. She stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room before landing on me. I could see the concern etched into her face, the tightness in her jaw. “Lianna.” Her voice was softer than usual, but there was an edge to it, a restrained urgency. “What’s wrong?” I opened my mouth, then closed it. What could I even say? I swallowed, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “He ambushed me,” I said
CHAPTER 78 Edward: Harvey stood before me, arms folded, his sharp eyes scanning my face. His expression was unreadable, but the weight in his voice made my jaw clench. “So, what are you going to do about him?” he asked. “Because at this rate, Ethan won’t stop. He’s using the mate bond as leverage, and Lianna…” He exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Edward, he’s relentless. He wants her back.” I stiffened at the words, my grip tightening around the documents on my desk. I had been trying—trying so damn hard—to focus on pack matters, to get through this mountain of responsibilities without losing my temper. But how could I, when the problem I was trying to push aside was being shoved right in my face? Ethan. Ethan and his obsession with Lianna. I let out a slow breath, my fingers flexing before I placed the documents down carefully, deliberately. “He will not take her back.” My voice was steady, but even I could hear the restrained fury beneath it. “He
CHAPTER 79 Lianna: Edward’s words stayed with me, settling deep in my chest like an anchor I couldn’t shake off. "I will do everything in my power to make sure he never takes you from me." I wanted to trust in that promise. But fear was an insidious thing, creeping through the cracks of my resolve, whispering doubts in my ear. Ethan wasn’t the kind of man to let go. He had never been. And now, with the bond still lingering between us, no matter how much I tried to sever it, I knew he wouldn’t stop. The mere thought of him made my stomach tighten. Once, I had given him everything—my love, my devotion, my future. When I learned he was my mate, I thought it was fate rewarding me, sealing our love in the most sacred way possible. I had seen a lifetime with him. A home, children, happiness. I had been naive. Loving Ethan had cost me everything—my dignity, my happiness, my sense of self. I had spent months trying to rebuild what he had broken, and even now, I
*CHAPTER 80* Lianna: The moment I stepped out of the North Wing, my eyes landed on Edward. He was pacing near the stone archway leading to the training grounds, his hands clenched at his sides, his entire body wound tight with tension. The fading sunlight caught in his dark hair, making it look almost bronze in the dim glow, but there was nothing warm about the way he moved—sharp, rigid steps, jaw locked in frustration. Then he saw me. His shoulders dropped slightly, relief flashing across his face for a fleeting second before something else took over—something darker. He was angry. I barely had time to take another step before he was striding toward me. “Why were you in Ethan’s wing?” His voice was tight, controlled, but I could hear the fury simmering just beneath the surface. I shrugged, unwilling to feed into whatever argument he was ready to start. “I went to speak to him.” H
Lianna: I woke him with a kiss. It was gentle and slow, the kind that lingered on his lips like sunlight brushing the edge of dawn. His skin was warm beneath mine, soft and familiar. He stirred slowly, lashes fluttering like leaves catching the breeze before his eyes opened, that drowsy gray haze still clinging to them. “Is it time?” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with sleep. It was the kind of voice that made it feel like the world was still paused for us. I nodded, fingers brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Yeah. It's time.” He sighed, sitting up reluctantly. I could tell his body felt heavier than usual—grief had a weight all on its own. Still, he moved, slow but sure, like he owed it to himself to keep going. I slid off the bed to help him, but the rug betrayed me. My heel caught on the edge and I pitched forward with a sharp gasp. And just b
Lianna: The Palace was too quiet. That kind of quiet that sat thick on the skin like humidity before a storm, smothering and heavy, as if the very walls were mourning. The corridors were dimly lit, the sun long gone, and I could hear the distant creak of wooden beams settling overhead, slow and reluctant, like the house itself didn’t want to exist in this version of our reality. Edward hadn’t said a word in hours. He lay curled on his side, one arm slung carelessly over the edge of the bed, his knuckles pale against the white linen. His lashes fluttered occasionally like he was trapped somewhere between sleep and waking. Sometimes he’d blink open his eyes and just stare blankly at the ceiling, unmoving, unblinking, lost in a place I couldn’t reach. I sat behind him, cross-legged, one hand tracing slow circles along his back. His shirt had ridden up, exposing the bare slope of his waist. The skin there was cool, soft beneath my fingertips, marred only by the faint scar
Lianna: The morning light was shy, barely bleeding through the velvet curtains when I cracked my eyes open. I didn’t need a clock to know what day it was. My chest already felt like it was caving in. The air hung heavy, saturated with that stale chill that often preceded sorrow. A mourning fog rolled outside our window like some prophetic omen, brushing ghostlike tendrils across the glass. Edward hadn’t moved beside me. His breath rose and fell in shallow waves, his hand still loosely curled around mine like he feared I’d disappear in my sleep. I shifted slowly, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. We were going to banish his brother. I sat up and pulled the duvet around me, the fabric swishing softly against my bare skin. My toes hit the floor with a shiver, the marble tiles beneath me as merciless as the decisions we had to make today. My robe hung at the edge of the armchair, still draped from the night before. I sl
Freya: The night felt too loud for how quiet it was. Crickets whined in the grass like tiny, angry violins, and the wind kept slipping through the cracked wooden shutters, brushing cool air against my bare arms like an unwelcome ghost. I was lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers I’d been chasing in circles. My bed creaked with the slightest shift, the old mattress groaning beneath the weight of my body. I shouldn't have come back here. I shouldn’t have returned to this house. I shouldn’t have ever listened to her. My chest ached. That tight, slow burn of regret that started somewhere beneath my ribs and dragged itself up to my throat like it had claws. I reached up and rubbed the heel of my palm against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that had already found their way to my pillow. My face was warm, wet. I could taste salt. My breath shuddered on the exhale. “I didn’t want this,” I whispered into the room, voice barely audible over
Edward: The eggs Tarantino made were, as he warned me, an absolute disaster. But the bread was warm, and it was good enough to make me forget about the burnt rubber taste of the eggs. We ate in silence, only the scraping of silverware and the occasional sip of coffee filling the air. My mind wasn’t exactly on the food anyway; it was stuck on the conversation we’d had earlier. Tarantino was right, of course. Everything happens for a reason. I could hear the words repeating in my head, like a stubborn echo bouncing off the walls. But as much as I wanted to believe him, that sentiment did nothing to ease the weight in my chest. Nothing could change the fact that I was sending my brother into exile, to a life without the Pack, without me, without any of the privileges that came with being a royal. But I couldn’t just let the sorrow flood over me, not in front of Tarantino. Not in front of the only person who still seemed to see me for more than just my title. So I swallowe
Edward: The drive was long, and Harvey wouldn’t stop humming that off-key tune under his breath like he was trying to win some invisible award for irritation. I didn’t say anything because well, silence stretching between us felt safer than opening my mouth and letting all the tangled thoughts spill out. My jaw ached from clenching it too tight. My nails had dug half-moons into my palm by the time we pulled into the small, quiet Pack territory that felt like the world had forgotten it. “I remember this place being a dusty excuse of a town,” I muttered, eyes flicking over the paved roads and fresh buildings. “Now look at it. They have actual sidewalks. I should’ve sent Ethan here for humility training.” Harvey chuckled but didn’t comment. Smart choice. It’d been years since I last came here. I was just a boy, clinging to my father’s hand while he laughed and pointed at the bakery with the awful scones and the house with the broken weather vane that somehow never got
Lianna: The palace had never been this quiet. Not even during the former Alpha's father’s funeral, when the halls were draped in black silk and everyone spoke in whispers like mourning had a volume limit. No. This silence was different. It hung in the air like a mist, curling around the columns, sliding under doors, seeping into my skin like cold. I sat on the balcony, elbows on the marble balustrade, chin resting against the back of my hand. My eyes drifted somewhere beyond the courtyard, past the rustling hedges and the guards stationed like statues, to a place I couldn’t name. The sky was pale and slow today, the clouds dragging their feet like even they couldn’t be bothered to hurry. A soft breeze combed through my hair, lifting strands across my face, and I didn’t bother to tuck them behind my ear. Ingrid was beside me, her legs propped up on the ornate table, scrolling through her phone like it held the cure to this numbness
Ethan: The moment Edward’s footsteps faded from the dungeon, I felt my chest constrict. I was alone. And not in the usual way where I sought solitude; this time, I felt like I was suffocating. I collapsed to my knees, the cold, damp floor seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My tears came in torrents, hot and bitter, an unforgiving reminder of everything I had lost, everything I had thrown away. There was no one left to blame but myself. I didn’t even care how pathetic I looked at this moment. All I wanted was the sting of reality to fade, even if only for a second so I could catch a sense of monetary relief. The memories of my life before all this pain before Freya, before Lianna, before the twisted path I had walked flashed through my mind like a parade of ghosts. I remembered how everything had been so simple back then. It was supposed to be me and Lianna, always. We had a bond, a bond that nothing could break, or so
Edward: The echo of my boots against the marble hallway was all I could hear as I stepped out of the study, my hand still clenched from how tightly I’d been gripping the edge of the desk moments ago. My jaw ached from how tightly I was clenching it, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not now. I told myself I wasn’t going to interfere. I promised Lianna I wouldn’t. But promises made in the eye of a storm rarely stand when the wind changes. And gods, it changed. The moment the elders started screaming over each other like a pack of senile hounds, all clamoring for blood, I had to shut them up. I didn’t even remember raising my voice until the silence hit. Until they all turned to me, and I, like a damn fool, spoke the decree. Now my baby brother would be banished to the Drekavac Hollow, and somehow, my voice had sealed it. The air grew colder the deeper I went, but I barely noticed. My fingers brushed the stone walls out of