Chapter 5

（Violet's POV）

What is he talking about?

I watched Luc walk away with the man in the suit, my mind swirling with confusion.

"He’s just supposed to be a call boy," I muttered to myself. "Was I wrong about him?"

The photo of that man who looked so much like Luc flashed through my mind again. But I quickly shook my head—there was no way he could be the Lycan King.

For the past three years, I'd often been driven to the brink by the agony of the mate bond, seeking solace in Luc at the house where we... connected.

He had always been there, living in that same place. If he were truly the Lycan King, that would have been impossible.

Maybe his new sugar mommy is some big shot. That would explain his sudden confidence.

I pushed the messy thoughts aside and turned to leave the lounge.

The courtroom was packed again when I reentered. Ronan was seated at the front, posture relaxed, one arm slung across the back of the bench like he was waiting for a latte, not a life-altering ruling.

Elara was next to him.

Somehow, she had slithered her way back in during recess—seated now beside my husband like she’d always belonged there.

My gaze swept over the jury—not a single woman in sight. In this pack, where men were revered and status was everything, it was hardly surprising.

A pang of bitterness twisted inside me, but with it came relief.

...So, maybe Luc was just bluffing.

Elara’s gaze flicked up to me. Then to my lips.

“Smudged...?!”, Elara gasped loudly. "Oh my Goddess, Violet, you—"

But Ronan cut her off sharply. "Lower your voice, Elara. The judge already granted us special permission to appear together. The least we can do is maintain some decorum."

Elara looked indignant. "But—"

Ronan gave her a firm pat on the back. "I know what you’re thinking, but I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. There’s no way it’s true."

Then his gaze turned icy as he stared down at me. "Your sister Violet once got down on her knees and begged me to marry her. The only redeeming quality she had was that she at least loved me."

His voice dripped with condescension. "...So drop this ridiculous divorce nonsense, and I might let you keep the title of being my wife. How’s that, Violet?"

He was clearly waiting for me to beg for mercy, but I just scoffed and ignored him.

Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to treat him this way—Ronan’s face flushed red, his eyes burning with fury as they locked onto mine.

Bang!

The judge’s gavel cracked like a gunshot, snapping everyone to attention.

“Let’s continue, shall we?”

He adjusted his glasses and peered down at the documents stacked in front of him, voice rising with official weight.

"After reviewing the case, this court has determined that Lady Violet Sterling is not entitled to initiate divorce proceedings. Should she persist, she must either forfeit all assets or provide Mr. Sterling with an heir."

"Mr. Sterling, do you object to these terms?"

Ronan noded.“No.”

"Lady Sterling's documents claim that the Sterling family has been surviving solely on her assets... Oh? The total wealth she's accumulated over the years amounts to — ... what?! A Rouge is actually this capable?!"

The judge stared at me in shock, but soon, his expression twisted into disdain. "No matter how capable, you're still just a Rouge. I'm afraid your lawsuit holds no legal ground, madam."

“Lady Violet Sterling, formerly of no noble lineage, stands before this court to request formal dissolution of the fated mate bond and legal divorce from Lord Ronan Sterling.”

I clenched my fists. “I object, Your Honor! This ruling is unjust!”

"—Overruled. I believe this case is adjourned."

Laughter rippled across the courtroom.

My nails dug into my palm.

The judge turned the page and continued like this was routine procedure.

“...In accordance with werewolf union law,” the judge said clearly, “ ..she must relinquish more than ninety percent of her total assets ...or meet at least one condition set forth by the male party.”

Relinquish My wealth.

Or.

Bear an heir.

Was this truly the farce's final act? How can I accept such an ending!?

The judges began cataloging my assets—itemizing every last possession I’d be forced to surrender if I pursued the divorce. They worked with cold efficiency, utterly indifferent to my fury.

Ronan looked smugly satisfied, already feigning boredom now that he’d won. Beside him, Elara smiled like a cat licking cream from its paws.

Then—

The sharp staccato of boots echoed through the courtroom. A soldier skidded to a halt, chest heaving, before snapping to attention.

"—By order of His Majesty!" His voice rang out like a gunshot. "The Lycan King commands this verdict be stayed!"

The soldier spoke for everyone to hear. “The Lycan King has reviewed Lady Violet’s request… and has personally accepted her appeal！”

Even the judge leaned back like the floor had shifted beneath him.

Ronan exclaimed, "How is this possible?!"

Gasps.

Actual gasps.

I was shocked. "W...WHAT?"

But right after that, I felt a surge of excitement. I never imagined that the high and mighty Lycan King would care about my divorce case... but this might be my last chance!

As long as the Lycan King is fair and open to communication, I will do everything I can to earn his support!

The soldier added quickly, “The King has summoned both parties to his private chambers. Immediately.”

Every step echoed as we were led across the marble floor.

Then—

The doors opened.

The throne room was vast.

Lined in banners stitched with runes I couldn’t read, and filled with the scent of polished stone and power. I’d never been in this part of the palace before. Few had.

At the far end of the chamber, framed in columns of onyx, sat the throne.

It looked like it had been carved from the bones of giants—towering and cruel, lined in blood-colored velvet.

We dropped to our knees at the base of the throne. Because this is proper etiquette when facing the king.

“Your Majesty,” the underling at the foot of the steps announced, “we have brought them.”

Silence.

My heart kept racing, unable to stop the nervousness. Is this Lycan King someone who is fair and open to communication?

Was he cruel? Cold? Would he mock me like the others had? ...And, would he help me?

Then — the Lycan King's voice.

“Lift your head up.”

A familiar voice...?!

My head snapped up before I could stop myself.

There, lounging on the throne like it had always belonged to him…

Golden eyes.

Silver hair.

I stared in shock, almost holding my breath, my mind going completely blank.

My call boy Luc, no, the Lycan King Lucian BloodyMoon stared at me. Smirking like he’d been waiting for this moment.

“Uh-huh?” he said.