Chapter 8 – Where Shadows Begin

                "Ana, let’s go," Romani murmured, his breath warm against my ear, providing a sharp contrast to the icy tension in the room. "This place smells of desperation, damp rot, and exceptionally bad manners. I can't breathe in here."

                He turned me toward the door, his hand firm and possessive on my hip, guiding me away from the wreckage of Silas's pride. We were inches from the threshold when the air shifted.

                Axel seized the moment, before I could breathe, he was on me.

                Fueled by a toxic mix of ego and adrenaline, he lunged forward, his fingers digging like iron claws into my bicep. He jerked me back toward him with such violence that I crashed against his chest, the air bursting out of my lungs in a painful wheeze. Instinctively, my hands flew up to push him away, my nails catching in the fabric of his half-open shirt and dragging downward, leaving a raw, blood-red scratch across his flesh.

                A dangerous, earth-shaking roar filled the foyer, vibrating through the very marrow of my bones. When I turned my head, I saw Romani. He was half-shifted, his face a menacing mask of predatory fury, his eyes fixed with lethal intensity on my hand, which was still pressed against Axel’s chest.

                Even Era shrieked in my mind, her voice frantic as she stared wide-eyed at the Prince. ‘Let go, Ana! Pull your hand away! His Lycan wolf is seeing red, he thinks you’re touching him by choice! Let go! I don’t want a cheap death like this, dying in the arms of this scumbag because a Prince lost his mind!’

                But before I could even process her warning, Romani blurred forward. His clawed hand seized my shoulder, flinging me aside with enough force to send me stumbling. Axel’s restraining arm was instantly caught, bent backward at an impossible angle.

                I heard a sickening pop followed by a wet tear.

                Axel let out a scream like the pathetic beast he was, a high-pitched, agonizing sound that was loud enough to be heard in the furthest reaches of the territory. In the pack mind-link, a wave of pure, unadulterated agony exploded, causing every member of the Moonlight Walkers to gasp in shared pain.

                “Take your filthy hands off my mate!” Romani hissed, his voice no longer human, but a guttural vibration that seemed to command the very earth to still. “The audacity of you to lay your low paw upon the future Queen is a crime punishable by death. I won't tolerate another mishap, especially after I’ve already informed you of our bond.”

He squeezed Axel’s arm, the sound of splintering bone echoing in the silence of the office.

                Romani turned his head slightly toward the Alpha couple. Silas was trembling like a fallen leaf in a gale, his face a mask of absolute horror as he realized his son’s life was hanging by a literal thread. Tears were already streaming down Luna Ruth’s face as she watched her only son writhe in the Prince’s grip.

                “Keep your son in check,” Romani warned, his eyes glowing with a baleful, hellish light. “If you fail to discipline him, you won't have a son to inherit this pile of stone for much longer. My mate is not a tool, a pawn, or someone your pack can play with.”

                With a shove, he released Axel, sending him sprawling across the marble floor, gasping and broken.

                Silas stumbled forward, his Alpha bravado completely extinguished, replaced by the frantic desperation of a father watching his legacy crumble. He dropped his head in a submissive posture that would have been unthinkable ten minutes ago.

                "Please, Prince Romani!" Silas choked out, his voice cracking. "He is young... he is foolish. He acted out of love, nothing more. He has believed Ana was his for years. It was a lapse in judgment born from a broken heart, not a slight against the Crown!"

                Luna Ruth was on her knees before she even realized she had moved, her silk dress pooling on the blood-spattered marble. She reached out a trembling hand, not toward Romani, she wasn't that suicidal, but toward the space between them, as if begging for the air to stop vibrating with the Prince's killing intent.

                "He loves her!" she sobbed, her polished facade shattered. "Everything he did, he did because he couldn't bear to lose her. Please, do not hold a man accountable for the madness of his heart. He is all we have. Spare him, and we will never speak her name again. We will strike her from our records, our history, anything! Just let him live!"

                Romani stood perfectly still, his chest heaving with the effort of leashing his wolf. He looked down at the sobbing Luna with a cold, detached revulsion.

                "Love?" Romani’s voice was a low, mercurial thrum that made the broken glass on the floor rattle. "You call that grab the act of a lover? It was the act of a thief trying to reclaim stolen property. If he loved her, he would have bowed to the bond that chose her. If he loved her, he would have realized he was never worthy of even breathing the same air as a Lycan’s mate."

                He stepped over Axel’s twitching body, his polished boot narrowly avoiding the boy’s head. He didn't look back at the Alpha or the Luna. He simply looked at me, his eyes still swirling with that unearthly red hue, searching my face for any sign of lingering attachment to the pathetic creature on the floor.

                "If I hear that word ‘love’ associated with his filth and my mate again," Romani said, directed at the ceiling but intended for everyone in the packhouse, "I will return to burn this house to the ground with all of you inside it. There is no love in a cage, Silas. There is only ownership. And his ownership ended the moment I claimed her."

                He reached out and took my hand. His grip was firm, almost painfully hot, radiating the sheer volume of adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

                "We are leaving," he commanded. "Now."

                He walked with the slow, arrogant gait of a man who knew no one would dare stop him. He ignored the sputtering fear of Silas and the vacant, agonized glare from Axel, who was still struggling to breathe under the weight of Romani’s aura.

                As we reached the threshold, Romani paused, looking back over his shoulder one last time. His eyes had returned to blue, but the threat remained.

                "Expect the dowry in a week, Silas. It will be more than you deserve, but less than she’s worth. Don't spend it all in one place. You’ll need it to repair your ego and perhaps buy some better guards. These ones are... underwhelming."

                As he led me toward the car, the silence was broken only by Axel’s shallow, ragged wheezing and his mother’s muffled wails. I didn't look back at my parents. I didn't look back at the pack. I followed the Prince into the sunlight, feeling the heavy iron gates of my past finally lock shut behind me.

                It felt like a weight lifted off my chest that I hadn't even known I was carrying. Era was doing mental backflips in my head, howling with a joy that was infectious.

                ‘Landfill Axel just got incinerated!’ she cheered. ‘I think I could get used to being a Princess, Ana. Did you see his face? He looked like he’d swallowed a wasp!’

I climbed into the car, my hands shaking slightly, but my heart full. Romani got in beside me, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he’d just threatened a whole pack.

                "You okay?" he asked, his voice returning to that soft, teasing tone.

                "I've never been better," I admitted, looking at the packhouse in the rearview mirror as we sped away. "But you know they won't let this go, right? Silas is petty. He’ll send someone."

                Romani reached over and squeezed my hand, his palm warm and steady.

                "Let them come. I haven't had a good hunt in weeks."