Edward: For a long second, neither Harvey nor I spoke. Then— "What the fuck was that?" Harvey’s voice was filled with confusion and anger. I ran a hand over my face, exhaling. "I don’t know." Harvey let out a sharp breath. "You don’t know?" He took a step closer, his frustration rolling off him in waves. "Edward, she has cast a fucking spell on you. And you’re just sitting here, smiling like a goddamn fool while she plays you like a puppet." I frowned. "It’s not—" "Don’t," he cut me off, his voice low, dangerous. "Don’t you dare defend her. You’re better than this." I looked away, my fingers tightening around the box Freya had given me. Harvey scoffed, shaking his head. "You do realize this is exactly how it started with Ethan, right?" I flinched. "Wake up, Edward," Harvey said, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. "Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose everything." Then, without another word, he turned and stormed out, slamm
Lianna: I had never been happier in my entire life. With Edward gone, Freya and I had a silent battle of stares. I didn't tear my gaze away from her. I wasn't afraid. I remained seated, picking at the last bits of my meal, savoring the moment as I lifted my goblet to my lips. The wine tasted sweeter than ever. Freya, on the other hand, was barely holding it together. Her hands trembled at her sides, fingers curling into fists against the tablecloth. She looked torn between fury and fear, her knuckles white as she tried to steady her breath. Good. “You—” Her voice wavered, but she stood anyway, her chair scraping against the marble floor as she shot daggers at me. “You’re lying.” I arched a brow, swirling the wine in my glass. “Am I?” “Yes,” she hissed, her chest rising and falling unevenly. “You’re making all of this up just to turn Edward against me.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but I had seen better performances. “Freya,” I sighed, s
Freya: The moment I slammed the car door shut, my nails dug into the steering wheel. My entire body vibrated with barely contained rage, my breaths coming sharp and ragged. I could still hear Lianna’s voice in my head, smug and triumphant, as she tore apart everything I had built. That traitorous bastard of a driver. That wretched, meddling Lianna. How? How had I been so careless? I threw my head back against the seat, laughing bitterly at my own stupidity. I had let myself slip, drunk on the small victories I had won. I had been so caught up in Edward’s attention shifting toward me, so satisfied with the way the elixir had started to take effect, that I had gotten comfortable. And comfort was a luxury I could never afford. The moment Lianna walked into that dining hall, I had known. The way Edward’s expression darkened when he heard it, it was all unraveling. She had found out. And it was all because of John. My teeth clenched. If I had ended h
Lianna: Edward’s chambers had always been grand, but now, with my things blending into his space, it felt different—warmer, more personal. The room still had its vastness, its dark mahogany furniture and high ceilings, but now there were little touches of me everywhere. A silk scarf draped over the vanity. A novel I’d left open on the bedside table. I let out a slow breath, my fingers trailing along the edge of the velvet chaise near the fireplace. A smile crept onto my lips as I turned to face Edward, who stood by the bed, watching me with an amused expression. His arms were crossed over his chest, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable—something that made my stomach tighten. His grin widened when I finally met his gaze. “So?” he murmured, stepping toward me. “What do you think?” I tilted my head, letting my eyes roam over him, the way his white shirt stretched over his broad chest, the way his sleeves were rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms,
Lianna: I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I glanced at myself in the mirror again, torn between laughing and crying. I had never dressed this way for anyone. Sure, I had worn a dress for Ethan once—on the night of our wedding, when I had slipped into the most sultry, elegant thing I could find, hoping he would actually see me for once. But no. That night, I had been left with the cold, empty space of a different room while he slept somewhere else. I shook my head, shoving that thought away. It wouldn’t help me now. It never had. Edward was different. He wanted this. Told me to wear something sexy for him, and damn it, I was going to. I barely had time to process it, but there I was, standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection in a two-piece bikini. The soft fabric clung to my skin, hugging every curve in a way that made me feel—exposed. But I couldn’t back out now. No way. Edward’s words still rang in my ears. "Wear it for me, Lianna. I want to see you."
Lianna: Adam's arms wrapped around me and he pushed me against the tree closest to us, caging me in with both of his arms on either side of the trunk. He looked down at me, eyes lingering on my lips. "I am the owner of you. I own your body," His fingers grazed down my arm, tracing lines till he got to my waist. "Your soul," He cupped my breasts. "Your everything. It's mine and I get to decide what happens and what doesn't." I planted my foot into the ground and pushed him off, swiftly changing our positions. I stared into his eyes and smirked. "Well, I own you as much as you own me so what are we going to do about that?" My lips moved to his neck and my fangs jutted out, tracing lines down his skin and grazing his ear lobes softly. "Tell me, Edward. Who owns who?" His fingers sank into my skin and he lifted me off the ground and pushed me back into the tree trunk. "Let's see for ourselves." He pushed my panties to the side, muttering how he regretted that he co
Lianna: The morning light spilled through the tall window, warm against my skin, a slow caress that eased me into wakefulness. But the real warmth, the one that made me want to stay exactly where I was, came from Edward. His arms were wrapped around me, holding me as if I belonged nowhere else. For a long moment, I just lay there, letting the feeling of absolute contentment settle over me. I had never thought I could feel this way, so at peace, so—dare I say it—happy. Carefully, I lifted my head, taking in the sight of Edward’s face. In the soft glow of morning, he looked almost unreal. Strong jaw, slightly tousled hair, thick lashes casting shadows against his cheeks. If the gods had ever sculpted a man by hand, I was convinced they had taken their time with this one. A small, ridiculous smile tugged at my lips as I reached up, fingers hovering just over his face. His eyes fluttered open. I barely had a second to react before I was caught in the full fo
Lianna: Her expression didn’t change, but there was something sharper in her gaze now. "Go on." "I believe there’s a spell on him," I said. "Something unnatural, something that… swayed his choices." The priestess leaned forward slightly. "You do not trust his love for you?" I hesitated. "I do. But that doesn’t mean something isn’t at play. I need to know the truth. If there is a spell, I want it broken." She was quiet for a long moment, as if weighing my words in her mind. Then, finally, she nodded. "A wise request. Love, when manipulated, is no love at all." I exhaled, relief curling in my chest. "Thank you." But before I could say more, she spoke again. "There is something else on your mind." I hesitated before nodding. "The pandemic." Her brows lifted. "The one that swept through the kingdom," I clarified. "It disappeared too quickly. Almost… unnaturally so. And I have reason to believe my ex-husband’s wife, Freya, had something to do wit
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