Chapter 8

SIX YEARS LATER

ZANE'S POV

Six years had passed since I tore the crown from Isabella’s head and banished her from the Ashen Pack. The decision had changed more than I had anticipated, though I had spent years refusing to examine the consequences.

I stood by the massive arched windows of the Alpha’s study, staring out over the sprawling stone courtyard. Below, guards moved between the buildings while servants hurried about their duties. The kingdom remained strong, its borders secure and its people prosperous, yet the silence that followed me into my private chambers was something I had never learned to tolerate.

My inner wolf shifted restlessly beneath my skin, his displeasure a constant presence I had long since grown accustomed to ignoring. He had never accepted the severed bond, and neither time nor my efforts to bury the past had persuaded him otherwise.

“Zane! Are you even listening to me?”

Monica's voice cut through my thoughts. I didn't turn around.

“Zane!”

Her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor as she crossed the study. I caught the scent of her perfume before she stopped beside me, but it stirred nothing beyond my impatience.

When the pack elders had insisted that I take another Luna after Isabella's banishment, I had chosen Monica. She was a prominent figure in our social circles, a lifelong acquaintance, and someone I believed would understand the arrangement. Our marriage had secured the position the elders wanted filled, but five years later, we were no closer to being husband and wife in anything but name.

“I am talking to you, Alpha!” Monica snapped.

I turned to face her. Her carefully styled hair fell over her shoulders, but her expression had twisted with frustration.

“How much longer are you going to treat me like a ghost in my own palace?”

“I am listening, Monica. What is it now?”

“What is it?” she repeated with a bitter laugh. “We have been married for five years, yet I am still sleeping in the eastern wing while you lock yourself away in your chambers. You have never touched me. You barely acknowledge me unless you have to, and I'm tired of pretending this arrangement is acceptable.”

“We have spoken about this.” My voice remained controlled, though my patience was wearing thin. “I married you to give the pack a Luna. I gave you the title, the position, and everything that comes with it. Do not demand things from me that I cannot give you.”

“I want a marriage, Zane! I am the Luna of the strongest wolf kingdom, yet I feel like a prisoner.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice as though the walls themselves might be listening. “Do you have any idea what the servants are saying? The omegas, the guards, the maids—they all know our marriage is a sham. They whisper about the cold bed in your chambers and laugh behind my back.”

I said nothing. The rumours were hardly news to me. I had heard enough of them in passing to know what the palace thought of its Alpha, but their opinions had never been important enough to change my decisions.

“They think there is something wrong with me,” Monica continued. “They wonder why my own husband refuses to share a bed with me. Do you understand how humiliating that is?”

“You knew what this marriage was when you agreed to it.”

“I agreed to become your wife, not a decoration you could leave on a shelf!”

Her anger filled the room, but I had no answer that would satisfy her. I had never promised her love, and I would not pretend otherwise simply to make our arrangement easier to bear.

Monica looked away, struggling to contain her frustration. “And now the summit is approaching. The elders expect us to appear together, smile for the visiting Alphas, and pretend we have a perfect marriage. How am I supposed to do that when you treat me like I don't exist?”

“Attend the summit as Luna. That is what the kingdom expects of you.”

“And what about what I expect from you?”

I held her gaze. “I cannot give you what you want.”

For a moment, she looked as though she might say something more, but she eventually turned away with a sharp shake of her head.

“Sometimes I wonder whether you will ever stop punishing everyone around you for what happened six years ago.”

My expression hardened.

“Be careful, Monica.”

She studied me, then gave a humourless laugh. “There it is again. The warning. You can shut everyone out, but you cannot keep expecting the rest of us to live with the consequences.”

She left before I could respond, the sound of her heels fading down the corridor.

I remained by the window until the sound of her footsteps disappeared completely. Monica had no right to speak as though she understood what had happened between Isabella and me. She had not seen what I had seen that day, nor had she stood in my place when the evidence seemed to leave me with only one choice.

Still, I remembered how quickly everything had unfolded. At the time, I had been certain that my decision was justified. I had not allowed myself to question it, and for years, I had found enough work to keep those memories where I wanted them.

I turned away from the window and crossed to my desk. Reports on border security, trade, and the approaching summit covered the polished surface. They were matters I could resolve with facts and decisions, unlike the past, which offered no answers I was willing to face.

I had never sent anyone into the mountains to search for Isabella. I had not asked whether she survived the winter or whether anyone had seen her beyond our territory. I told myself that the matter had ended with her banishment, and that there was nothing to be gained by reopening it.

My wolf disagreed.

A low growl stirred inside me as I picked up the summit schedule. I scanned the list of preparations, making a mental note of the reports that still required my approval. The visiting Alphas would expect a united kingdom and a Luna standing beside its Alpha. Whatever Monica thought of our marriage, she would fulfil her role, and I would ensure the summit proceeded without unnecessary complications.

I signed the first report and moved to the next. The work demanded my attention, and I gave it what I could, but my wolf remained unsettled beneath my skin.

By the time I finished, the courtyard outside had emptied and the last of the light had faded behind the mountains. I closed the final folder and set it aside, satisfied that the preparations were on schedule.

The summit would begin soon. There would be no room for distractions, no patience for old grievances, and certainly no reason to dwell on a woman who had been gone for six years.

I reached for the next document, but my wolf gave another restless growl.

For the first time that evening, I wondered whether the past had truly stayed where I had left it.