CHAPTER 4

ASHINA’S POV

Farkas was already there when I passed through the doors, his imposing figure stationed in the grand hall like he had been expecting me.

He stood with his arms crossed over his wide chest, exuding an air of confidence that stirred irritation through me.

His sharp blue eyes gleamed with something unmistakable—triumph, amusement, the self-assuredness of a man who believed he had already emerged victorious.

The corners of his lips curled into a slow, familiar smirk, as if he were indulging in some private joke at my expense.

Everything about his posture, from the way he carried himself to the condescending tilt of his chin, radiated arrogance. He didn’t speak right away, simply watching me with the patience of a predator who had already trapped its prey.

The tension in the room was thick, crackling like a storm on the verge of breaking. Even without words, his message was clear—he thought he had won, that whatever fight I had left in me had been extinguished.

But he was wrong.

I kept my expression carefully composed, unwilling to let him see the storm raging inside me. My stomach twisted with disgust, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how deeply his presence unsettled me.

Instead, I stood tall, my chin lifted ever so slightly, meeting his gaze with unyielding determination.

Tac!

Farkas marched forward, the heavy thud of his boots striking the polished floor echoing in the vast chamber.

The space around us suddenly felt smaller, the air more dense with unspoken words and barely restrained tension.

He was enjoying this—this twisted little game where he believed he held all the power.

“So,” he drawled, “you ran straight to King Dragor!”

I didn’t respond, only stared at him. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.

His smirk spread wider, a cruel twist of satisfaction that only served to fuel the fire inside me. And then, in that moment of clarity, it hit me—how could I have ever found myself drawn to someone like him? To this kind of creature; so arrogant, so vile, so utterly beneath any form of respect or admiration. The realisation churned my stomach, and with it, a searing anger that only intensified the more I thought about it.

The idea of having ever been remotely attracted to him seemed almost sickening now, and that disgust only boiled my blood further, sprinting the determination that this would be the last time he would have any power over me.

“I knew it,” he said, voice heavy with amusement. “You must have gone to beg him not to dissolve our marriage, didn’t you?”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if the idea itself was entertaining.

“How pathetic.”

My nails dug once more, painfully into the soft flesh of my palms as my hands balled into tight fists at my sides.

The sharp sting was nothing compared to the storm of emotions building within me. My body shook with the effort of holding back, of not letting the fury that raged inside break free.

However, I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose control. Every muscle in my body screamed for release, but I remained still, focused, the pressure in my fists a reminder of the restraint I was forcing upon myself.

Farkas stepped closer, his blue eyes flickering with something sharp and condescending.

“You really will go to any lengths to avoid this divorce, won’t you?” He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head. “Esther would never do something so demeaning. She has pride.”

Honestly, that stung.

Not because I cared what he thought, but because once, I had believed he respected me. Once, I had believed I mattered to him.

I inhaled , forcing myself to remain calm.

“Is that so?” My voice was steady, devoid of emotion. “Then tell me, Farkas—do you really want this divorce? Do you truly wish to be with this Esther?”

His expression changed into something even more self-satisfied, his posture growing rigid with self-importance. He radiated that same hollow pride he always wore when he convinced himself he was invincible.

“Of course,” he said proudly. “She and I are fated mates, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. No one can go against the Goddess’ will... What, didn’t you know about it?”

I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

I had been his wife for a year, had sacrificed for him, had been there for his family, had played the role of the loyal, dutiful partner. Yet, the moment his so-called fated mate appeared, I was suddenly nothing to him.

However, I didn’t let my emotions show.

Instead, I hummed softly, as if considering his words. As if they held any weight.

Farkas took my silence as agreement and continued, his voice dripping with self-importance.

“Since you’ve been so loyal to my parents all these years, I won’t cast you out.”

I furrowed a brow.

“You can stay here after the divorce,” he continued, as if granting me some grand mercy. “I’ll support you, just like before.”

A slow-burning, insidious anger turned and tightened deep within my chest, winding itself around my ribs like a narrow vine. It spread through me, hot and relentless, fuelled by the sheer audacity of the man before me.

Farkas stepped closer, lowering his voice. “And if you feel lonely…”

His fingers brushed against my wrist, his touch unwelcome, his scent suddenly suffocating.

“I’ll still be here for you. I can still warm your bed.”

I swallowed back the saliva rising in my throat.

My body tensed, muscles locking in place, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I stood my ground, my eyes still as I stared up at him, my eyes revealing nothing.

Inside, a storm of emotions rose. I wanted to laugh, not out of amusement but because the absurdity of what he was suggesting was almost entertaining.

The urge to slap him surged within me, the desire to leave a mark on him that would somehow convey the disgust I felt for his words, for his impertinence. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him how revolting and horrid he was for even daring to make such a suggestion.

Fortunately, instead of giving in to the chaos inside, I remained silent, my face an impassive mask hiding the fury that simmered beneath the surface.

Instead, I smiled.

A curl, as if his words had truly touched me. As if I was genuinely considering his offer.

“Farkas,” I murmured, tilting my head slightly.

“You really are… generous.”

His grin widened.

“So,” I continued, voice light, almost affectionate, “you’ll marry Esther, and I’ll just… step aside?”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Yes. You’re finally seeing sense.”

I let out a soft sigh, pressing a hand to my chest as if truly moved by his kindness.

“Then of course, I’ll step aside.”

Farkas exhaled in relief, his entire posture shifting. His arrogance had been rewarded, his delusion confirmed.

“I knew you would understand,” he said, voice brimming with satisfaction. “You’re smarter than I thought.”

He underestimated me, believing I was as naive as he thought. If only he knew the truth. If only he could see the wheels turning behind my calm exterior.

I kept the smile in place, soft and sincere, as though I had resigned myself to whatever fate he thought he had chosen for me. I acted the part—quiet, compliant, nothing more than a pawn in his game.

Nevertheless inside, my mind was already plotting, already mapping out every move that would bring about his downfall.

He would never see it coming. He would never realise that the one he thought he had under his control was the very one who would be the instrument of his undoing.