Ethan: The moment the door slammed shut behind me, I let out a guttural groan. It echoed off the walls of my quarters, reverberating back to me and making me feel even worse. I was filled with regret. I'd made a mistake by signing those papers after letting Edward threaten me. How could I have been so stupid? So weak? My fist collided with the edge of the table, causing a sharp pain to shoot up my arm, but it was far better than the humiliation. I gritted my teeth as I pushed the papers from my desk off, the documents scattering across the floor like fallen leaves. The ornate vase perched at the center went next, shattering into a thousand pieces. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t how I was supposed to be. Edward’s words still stung. His smug, calculated tone still rang in my head, further enraging me. "Sign it, Ethan. Do it for the Pack. Do it for yourself." He knew exactly how to manipulate me, how to push all the right buttons. I hated him for it. But more than that, I
Edward’s POV Relief coursed through me as I strode into the council hall, the blood contract in my hand. For the first time in years, I felt like things were finally falling into place. My brother—my stubborn, insufferable brother—had done what was necessary. The alliance with the vampires was secured, and with it, the survival of our kind. The elders were already seated, their weathered faces etched with curiosity. They’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had. I walked to the center of the room, the thud of my boots against the stone floor echoing with purpose. “Gentlemen,” I began, my voice steady and commanding, “I have called this meeting to announce a significant victory for the Pack.” With deliberate movements, I slapped the signed contract onto the long oak table in front of them. The crisp parchment unfurled, the blood-red seal catching the candlelight. A murmur rippled through the room, approval clear in their expressions. “It is done,” I said, stepping
*CHAPTER 36* Lianna’s POV As soon as the door slammed shut behind Freya, the room fell into a suffocating silence. I tried to hold myself together, but the weight of her words pressed against my chest, relentless and cruel. My legs gave out, and I sank to the floor, my back against the edge of the bed. Tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t fight them. What was the point? “What did I ever do to deserve this?” I whispered to no one in particular, my voice cracking under the strain of suppressed sobs. Ingrid crouched beside me, her warm hand resting on my shoulder. “Lianna, don’t let her get into your head,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “Freya is nothing but a bitch. She thrives on making people feel small because she has nothing of her own.” I looked up at her, my vision blurred by tears. “But what if she’s right, Ingrid? What if this is all my fault?” My voice trembled, and I could feel the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “If I hadn’t been with Ethan… If I had
Lianna: Dinner with Edward. The thought alone was unnerving. The man had the uncanny ability to make me feel small and significant at the same time. As I adjusted the loose curls framing my face, I couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this outing. Dinner at the palace was routine, predictable even. But tonight? Tonight was different. Edward waited for me at the bottom of the grand staircase, his posture effortlessly regal. He had a small smile on his face. "You look beautiful," he said as his eyes swept over me, lingering for a moment longer than I was comfortable with. "Thank you," I replied, my voice quieter than I intended. "So, where exactly are we going?" He smirked, the corners of his lips tilting in that maddeningly smug way of his. "A restaurant in the heart of the Pack's village. Thought we could use a change of scenery." I frowned slightly. "Why not just have dinner here in the palace? It's more private, less… complicated." Edward chuckled, the sound
Imogen: The room was suffocating. Ornate drapes danced across the walls as the wind blew, but they couldn't hide the rage being poured out beyond the door. My father's voice boomed, deep and sharp, startling me. "Insult after insult! HOW DARE THEY?" I paced from one end of my chambers to the other, fingers gripping the folds of my velvet gown. Each outburst of his fury made my heart race, not from fear of him, but of what his rage would lead to. The letter from the werewolf Pack was, in his eyes, nothing more than a slap in the face. And truthfully, I understood. But some part of me… some selfish, foolish part of me felt they deserved it. The disrespect they had shown my father couldn't be ignored. Still, my head was filled with other thoughts. Ethan. His name was like a bitter taste on my tongue. He had rejected me. Rejected my hand, rejected the union that could have mended this ever-growing rift between our kind. I stopped pacing and sank into the plush chair by the window.
Edward: The atmosphere of the restaurant was welcoming enough, but it did little to soften the icy glares and hushed murmurs that followed us. I noticed the way the people stared at Lianna, disdain etched on their faces, their whispers heavy with judgment. It was infuriating, but I kept my composure. Let them look. Let them murmur. She deserved none of it, and if they couldn’t see her worth, it was their blindness, not hers. Lianna, however, seemed unaffected. She sat across from me, her shoulders straight, her chin lifted just enough to command respect without appearing aloof. When the waiter placed our dishes in front of us, she thanked him with a polite smile. Her poise, her grace—it was undeniable. I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. “Does it bother you?” I asked softly. She raised an eyebrow, her fork hovering over her plate. “Does what bother me?” I nodded toward the room. “The stares. The whispers.” She shrugged, though there was a flash of somethi
Lianna: The silence in the car was suffocating, but I couldn’t bring myself to break it. My hands were clenched in my lap, fingers trembling as the drunken man’s words replayed in my mind. His voice echoed over and over, each vile accusation slicing through me like a jagged blade. Why would anyone think such? While msrried to Ethan, I barely saw the light of the day. I barely went out. My presence was barely shown outside enough for people to know who I really was. Was it Freya? Or had the maids who hated me even while I was treated awfully spread the news? Because that seemed to be the only reason that made sense to me because the hate was becoming too much for me to bear. Edward’s voice broke through my thoughts, calm and steady. “Lianna, don’t let that fool get to you. He was drunk, and his words meant nothing.” I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The weight in my chest was too heavy, pressing down until it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I looked down at my lap and fought b
Edward: I couldn’t keep the thoughts from swirling in my head as I sat there in my chambers, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. The weight of it all pressed down on me—Ethan’s refusal to marry the Vampire Princess, the looming war, and the uncertainty that gnawed at my very soul. Ethan had always been stubborn, but this… this was something else entirely. I’d done everything to try and make him see reason. We had no choice, I kept telling myself. There was too much at stake. But Ethan didn’t seem to care. All he cared about was the throne, and that was something I wasn’t willing to relinquish. He may have been the first to take the throne, but I had worked for this. I had earned this place. I was the first born Alpha King, and nothing, not even Ethan’s refusal to honor his responsibilities, would take that from me. But the people… they feared a war. They would not tolerate it. Every day felt like a countdown to something catastrophic. I could feel it in my bones—t
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
Edward: My journey from the courtroom to my study was a tumultuous one. I fought back tears I hadn't shed in years. Hell, I fought the urge to turn on my feed and go back to the court to change my mind over what I had said concerning Ethan, but that was futile. The judgement had been made and as bad as it made me feel, I had to be rational. I had to embrace reality and see Ethan for who he really was beyond my brother. I slammed the door behind me harder than I meant to. The sound echoed off the tall bookshelves like a gavel dropped by the gods. I’d always found comfort in this room. In its silence and its order, but today it felt more like a cage than a sanctuary. I could easily just step back out and take a walk or even go horse riding, but I knew it wasn't going to take away that terrible misery that was keeping me company right now. Which meant running away from whatever I was feeling wasn't the cure to my pain. I ran a hand through my hair, pacing a
Lianna: The air in the hall was suffocating, tight, pressing against every corner of my skin like the heat of a blacksmith's forge. The walls of the courtroom seemed to close in the moment I stepped in, hand in hand with Edward. I could feel his grip tighten slightly, almost imperceptibly, as our eyes fell on the man seated at the center of the gathering. Ethan. His gaze landed on us and didn’t waver. But I saw it. That subtle shift in his posture. The way his spine straightened, like the presence of our united front had finally forced him to understand that his days of immunity were over. Good. I wanted him to feel that fear. I wanted him to sit with it. We took our seats as murmurs spread through the chamber. Some voices were hushed, others hissed outright with emotion. The elders looked especially tense. Some wwr already whispering amongst themselves, robes rustling as they fidgeted, eyes darting between one another. An elder rose. He was tall and lean, his