C3

Stellan Valecrest POV

I straighten in my chair and glance at my mother before pulling out my communicator. A slow, infuriating smirk spreads across my face.

“Yes,” I reply, my voice smooth and gravelly. “And what about it?”

Maud's eyes flash with fury.

“You ungrateful brat! Your Luna is sitting right beside you! Have some respect for the Valecrest name!”

In the past, whenever my mother lost her temper during a feast, Rosamund would step in immediately, soothing her pride and doing whatever she could to keep the peace. Tonight, she doesn't even look up. She continues cutting her roasted meat in complete silence, leaving me to deal with my mother's anger alone.

The rest of the meal passes in strained silence.

When dinner ends, Maud insists that we spend the night at the manor. I don't bother arguing.

Inside the master suite, Rosamund stops beside the stone hearth and frowns.

“Your parents are staying in the guest wing. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Here. In bed with me.” I shrug off my heavy leather coat.

Rosamund stares at me, clearly taken aback.

“Our mate bond hasn't been severed yet,” I remind her, a mocking smile tugging at my lips. “Or have you forgotten?”

In three years, I have rarely shared a bed with her. Yet now I act as though having her in mine is my unquestionable right as her Alpha.

Before she can respond, my communicator buzzes on the nightstand. One pack alert after another floods the screen, followed by a string of incoming calls.

I poke my head out of the washroom, steam still clinging to my skin.

“Hand me my communicator.”

“It's on the bed,” Rosamund snaps coldly. “Get it yourself.”

My golden eyes gleam with amusement.

“Suit yourself.”

I step out of the washroom without a stitch of clothing on, water trickling down my shoulders and chest.

Rosamund lets out a startled gasp and quickly turns toward the arched window, a deep blush spreading up her neck.

I chuckle, leaving wet footprints across the stone floor as I retrieve the vibrating device from the bed.

“Pervert,” she mutters through clenched teeth, clutching her tunic.

A few minutes later, I emerge from the dressing alcove fully dressed in my dark leather riding gear, my blade strapped to my hip.

I'm not going to bed. I'm leaving.

“The bed is all yours, little wolf,” I tell her as I head for the door.

Rosamund immediately gets to her feet and follows me into the corridor, her boots clicking against the stone floor. She knows my parents are still downstairs, and there's no way I'm slipping out without causing a scene.

Just as I reach the grand staircase, my mother's sharp voice cuts through the silence.

“Where do you think you're going at this hour?”

“To Carys's apartment,” I answer without hesitation.

“You're not going anywhere!” Maud orders.

“Her wounds are infected,” I reply, my easy smile disappearing. “She's getting worse, and her wolf is losing the will to fight. I'm going.”

Maud looks past me and spots Rosamund standing at the top of the stairs.

“Then take your Luna with you! Don't forget your responsibilities to this pack!”

I turn slowly, my golden eyes settling on Rosamund as a bitter smile crosses my face.

“Well, my dear Luna, would you like to accompany your Alpha?”

Rosamund blinks, her expression going blank.

The last thing she wants is to watch another woman play the helpless victim to keep my attention. But with Maud standing below us and insisting that she fulfill her role, refusing would only give the family another reason to criticize her.

“Fine,” Rosamund murmurs as she descends the stairs. “I'll go with you.”

I sneer and turn toward the heavy iron gates.

Before Rosamund can follow, Maud catches her by the wrist and pulls her into the shadows beneath the archway.

“You foolish girl! You have everything a woman could ask for, yet you refuse to stand up for yourself. Stop indulging his reckless behavior!”

“I understand,” Rosamund replies quietly.

Maud frowns, lowering her voice.

“That girl from the lower territory is trouble. Don't underestimate her just because her wolf is weak. She knows how to use Stellan's guilt against him. You saw how he behaved at the table. Stand your ground, do you hear me?”

Beneath Maud's harsh words lies genuine concern. For all her faults, she is trying to protect Rosamund—not just as her daughter-in-law, but as the Luna of the pack.

“I understand,” Rosamund repeats with a weary sigh.

A few moments later, she climbs into the passenger seat of my armored vehicle, and we speed out of the gates into the dark territory.

I glance at her, my jaw tightening.

“You jump every time my mother snaps her fingers. If she told you to throw yourself to a pack of rogue wolves, would you do that too?”

Rosamund exhales slowly.

“I respect her because of her position in this pack. Once the mate bond is officially severed, I won't have to deal with any of this anymore.”

When we stop at a traffic light, I lean across the console and study her pale face.

“Since when did you learn to bite back?”

Rosamund turns toward the window, letting out a bitter, humorless laugh.

We arrive at a high-rise tower in the upper district of Silvermere City.

I make my way through the stone corridors with practiced ease, enter the access code, and open the apartment door as though I own the place.

Rosamund follows me inside, feeling like an unwanted ghost. The ease with which I move through the apartment makes her chest ache. She has never known this side of my life.

A soft mechanical whir comes from down the corridor.

A frail woman with delicate features rolls toward us in a mobility chair, tears glistening on her pale cheeks.

“Stellan... you finally came,” Carys Cennox whispers, her voice trembling.

I immediately approach her, pull a clean handkerchief from my coat, and gently wipe her tears away. My expression softens, and my touch becomes almost painfully tender.

Rosamund feels a tight knot forming in her throat. Her wolf lets out a faint, distressed whine inside her chest.

Carys unfastens the top buttons of her silk tunic, exposing one shoulder. Horrific burn scars stretch across her fair skin, red and raw, with signs of infection.

My expression darkens.

“Carys, the infection is spreading. You need to be admitted to the central clinic. I'll take you there myself tomorrow morning.”

Carys turns her tear-streaked face toward Rosamund, who stands silently near the doorway.

“Stellan... who is she?”

“My Luna,” I answer without hesitation.

For a fleeting moment, something spiteful flashes in Carys's eyes before her expression crumples into its usual fragile innocence.

“Stellan, my wolf is so tired,” she whispers. “Will you take me to bed?”

Rosamund opens her mouth, but I interrupt her.

“I'll take you to your room.”

I grip the handles of Carys's chair and wheel her down the corridor. As we pass through the doorway, Carys glances back at Rosamund with a smug little smile.

Rosamund remains motionless, her expression unreadable as I push Carys into the bedroom and leave the door slightly ajar.

Low murmurs drift out from the dimly lit room.

Rosamund takes out her communicator and searches the pack network for the property's ownership records.

Her stomach sinks.

The penthouse is registered solely in my name. It's a private residence she never even knew existed throughout their three years together.

Exhaustion finally overwhelms her. She sinks onto the leather sofa in the living room, draws her legs beneath her dress, and closes her eyes.

Before long, sleep takes over.

Some time later, the bedroom door clicks shut.

I return to the dim living room and find Rosamund curled up on the sofa. Her breathing is slow and steady, and her pale face looks remarkably peaceful.

Something dark and primal stirs inside me.

I lower myself beside the sofa and lean over her, pressing my lips to hers.

Rosamund gasps and opens her eyes, startled to find my face inches from hers. Before she can push me away, I deepen the kiss, refusing to give her a moment to collect herself.

A soft sigh escapes her lips. For a moment, her body responds to the familiarity between us. One arm slips around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair, while her other hand rests against my chest.

Her legs curl around my waist, drawing me closer.

I growl softly and trail kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck.

As she tilts her head back, Rosamund catches a faint glint near the ceiling molding.

A surveillance camera.

It's pointed directly at the living room.

A cold, calculating smile touches her lips.

She slowly reaches for the front of her black leather dress, which has slipped from one shoulder, and deliberately adjusts it while keeping her eyes on me.

Then she grips my hair and gently pulls my head back, interrupting the kiss.

“Can we leave now, my Alpha?” she asks with an exaggerated yawn. “I'm exhausted, and I want to sleep in a proper bed.”

Her voice drops to a low, teasing whisper. The sudden change in her attitude catches me off guard.

I brush my lips against her ear.

“Why don't we take this conversation to the vehicle?”

Rosamund smiles, deliberately shifting her gaze toward the surveillance camera before running her tongue over her lips.

“Whatever you want, darling.”

My thoughts scatter.

I slide my arms beneath her and lift her from the sofa, carrying her toward the door.

It slams shut behind us.

The moment the latch clicks into place, frantic shrieks and furious screams erupt from Carys's bedroom, followed by the unmistakable crash of shattering glass.