C4

Rosamund Ashby POV

Inside the armored vehicle, Stellan leans across the console to kiss me again, but I raise a hand and stop him.

I smooth the collar of my midnight-black leather dress.

“Enough,” I say, all warmth gone from my voice. “I'm not interested in playing along in a car.”

Stellan freezes, his golden eyes narrowing in disbelief.

I've already composed myself, my expression once again cold and unreadable, despite the faint blush lingering on my cheeks. I straighten and tap my communicator, letting my dark hair fall forward to hide the triumphant glint in my eyes.

*Carys must be losing her mind in that penthouse right now. She brought this on herself.*

“Take me back,” I order flatly.

With a frustrated growl, Stellan slams his foot on the accelerator and speeds through the city streets.

Over the next few days, I throw myself into my work, ignoring every message, alert, and insistent pull of our mate bond. In three years together, I've never seen Stellan so desperate for my attention.

Eventually, fed up with the constant buzzing in my hand, I send him a single message.

[You seem to have plenty of free time lately. Why don't we arrange a meeting with the Elder Council to finalize the end of our mate bond? As for your parents, I'll keep up the act at the manor a little longer.]

The moment the message goes through, the stream of notifications stops.

Satisfied, I slip my communicator into my bag and enter the medical wing of the Silvermere territory, ready to perform a specialized acupuncture treatment on my last patient of the day.

An hour later, I pack away my silver needles and walk down the stone corridor, nodding politely to the patient's family. My brief moment of peace ends when a familiar, deep voice carries over from the adjoining courtyard.

“Carys, I need to get back to the Council Tower. Is there anything else you need before I leave?” Stellan asks, his voice filled with a patience and tenderness he rarely shows me.

Carys sits in her mobility chair, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Stellan... I've caused so much trouble for you. I'm ruining things between you and your Luna. It's all my fault!”

I freeze in the shadows, my jaw tightening.

*So Carys knows exactly what she's doing. She's using her helpless act to drive a wedge between a mated couple.*

Stellan takes a clean linen handkerchief from his coat and gently wipes her tears away.

“Don't say that.”

“I know your mate hates me,” Carys sobs. “But being near you is the only thing keeping my wolf going. Your presence is the only comfort I have.”

I watch as Stellan's features soften with genuine tenderness—the very warmth I've spent three years longing for.

My chest tightens, and tears threaten to spill from my eyes.

I turn away and hurry down the corridor before I lose control of my emotions.

The moment my footsteps fade, a faint, satisfied smile crosses Carys's face. She takes out her communicator and shows Stellan a colorful event poster.

“Stellan, there's a major duel exhibition at the arena tonight. Will you take me?”

“A combat exhibition?” He frowns. “I'm not interested in watching people show off with swords.”

Yet as his golden eyes scan the poster, something flickers in his expression.

“Please, Stellan,” Carys pleads, tugging at his sleeve. “I really want to go with you.”

He sighs.

“Fine. I'll reserve a private box.”

Carys smiles to herself, pleased by how easily she can get him to do what she wants.

That evening, Stellan keeps his promise and escorts Carys to the grand arena in Silvermere City.

The official tournament posters displayed throughout the territory show the lead duelists wearing heavy iron masks. According to pack rules, their identities must remain secret until the final clash.

Backstage, in the preparation room, I pull on my fitted crimson combat dress and apply a bold red lipstick.

Ffion Calder stands nearby, leaning heavily on a wooden crutch.

“I could've sworn I saw your Alpha in the VIP box,” she says. “He was there with that woman in the wheelchair. Maybe I was mistaken, though.”

I steal a glance through the heavy velvet curtain. My stomach sinks.

“No. You weren't mistaken. That's him.”

In the private box above us, Carys clings to Stellan's arm, delicately eating the roasted meat he feeds her by hand.

Ffion grips her crutch so tightly her knuckles turn white.

“Are they seriously doing that in public?”

I turn away and take several slow breaths, trying to steady my racing heart. I don't know how much more of this I can take, but tonight, my duty as a warrior comes first.

The arena is packed, with wolves roaring from every tier. Bright crystal lanterns illuminate the central ring as the preliminary fighters leave the sand.

Then the lead duelists step into the light.

I stride into the arena beside my sparring partner, Sayer Whitlock. We both wear ornate steel masks that cover the upper halves of our faces, leaving our confident smiles visible.

Sayer is a renowned swordsman, towering over most men with his powerful build and remarkable speed. He swings his broadsword in a sweeping arc and lifts me effortlessly as I execute a flawless aerial strike.

As the duel intensifies, our movements become a blur of precision and speed. We weave through close-range maneuvers, cross blades, and narrowly evade each other's strikes. The crowd rises to its feet, roaring with excitement.

The war drums thunder as we approach the final clash.

Suddenly, my opponent's blade scrapes past my guard and catches the edge of my steel mask.

**Snap!**

The iron clasp breaks. My mask falls into the sand, revealing my face beneath the dazzling crystal lights.

Up in the VIP box, Stellan's golden eyes widen. His entire body goes rigid as he stares at the woman standing in the center of the ring.

Carys lets out a sharp, horrified gasp.

“How is that possible?!”

Whispers spread through the stands until a man in the front row suddenly shouts.

“Look at her technique! Isn't that the legendary swordswoman, Lady Coral?”

“By the Moon, it is! Coral!”

“She disappeared three years ago when she joined the Valecrest family! She's back in the arena!”

Below, Sayer removes his own mask, revealing his handsome face. The crowd falls silent for a heartbeat before erupting into deafening cheers, assuming the reveal is part of the performance.

Stellan clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. His gaze remains fixed on Sayer's hand resting firmly around my waist.

Beside him, Carys glares down at the arena, panic rising as she watches Stellan stare at me in stunned fascination.

She grabs his leather sleeve.

“Stellan... I'm feeling dizzy. We need to leave. Right now.”

He doesn't respond. His eyes remain fixed on the arena, as though he hasn't heard a word she's said.

Carys bites her lip and suddenly clutches her scarred shoulder, crying out in pain.

“Ah! My scar is burning! Stellan, please take me home!”

Down in the ring, the duel ends with a spectacular final move. I execute a reverse strike and land gracefully in Sayer's strong arms.

The arena erupts in applause, the cheers reverberating through the stone walls.

As the announcer declares the winners, Sayer draws me into a triumphant dip, his breath brushing my ear.

“Brilliant as always, Coral. You're still the best fighter in this arena.”

I give him a polite smile.

“Thank you, Sayer.”

Then I glance up toward the VIP box.

The seats where Stellan and Carys were sitting are empty.

I look away, forcing myself to bury the pain beneath a wall of indifference.

In the rear corridor of the training hall, young initiates chatter excitedly about the match.

“No wonder Ffion brought her in! Her swordsmanship is incredible!”

“Did you see how naturally she moved with Sayer? They looked like they were made for each other!”

“I heard Sayer has been trying to win her over for months!”

I ignore the whispers and head straight for my private dressing room, unaware of the tall figure silently following me through the shadows.

I step inside, but before I can close the door, a heavy hand slams it shut behind me. The iron bolt slides into place.

The familiar scent of pine and winter mint overwhelms my senses.

“Stellan—”

His arm locks around my waist, pulling me against his chest, while his other hand clamps over my mouth. The movement smears my red lipstick across my jaw.

“Quite a performance, Rosamund,” Stellan growls, his voice thick with possessive fury. “Looks like you've forgotten who your mate is.”

I struggle against his grip, but he pulls my head back and forces his mouth against mine in a rough, punishing kiss.

There is no tenderness in it, only anger and possessiveness. I bite down hard on his lower lip, breaking the skin.

Stellan growls, and the metallic taste of his blood fills my mouth. Instead of backing away, he kisses me even more fiercely.

He lifts me off my feet and presses me against the reinforced stone door, resting his forehead against mine.

“Tell me, Lady Coral...” he rasps, his eyes burning like molten gold. “Does that swordsman think he has a claim on you?”

His hands slide down my hips, gripping my thighs through the high slit of my crimson dress.

“Stellan, stop!” I gasp, my voice shaking with anger. “We're in a public building! Someone could walk down this corridor at any moment!”

“You said you had no interest in being kissed in a car,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my neck as a dangerous smile spreads across his face. “So why don't we forget about your precious mate bond and settle this right here?”