Se connecterAric’s POVFor a moment, I sat completely still, the phone heavy in my palm, the world spinning far too fast around me.The car felt tighter, smaller, as though the leather seats were closing in around me. My pulse beat against my skull. My lungs struggled to decide whether to breathe or seize.Then something inside me snapped.I hurled the phone onto the seat beside me.The sound cracked through the car like a whip.The driver flinched violently, the car jerking a little before he steadied it. “My Prince, apologies—”“It wasn’t you,” I muttered, voice low, clenched.It was him. The King.Always him.For years, he had manoeuvred my life like a chessboard—pieces arranged, sacrifices demanded, strategies enforced.None of them mine.Every significant choice stolen from me. Every path paved with consequences if I dared to step aside.Tonight’s stunt was one of his most ruthless.Cornering me beside the Longman heiress.Before the entire country. Before foreign dignitaries.Before Selene.
Aric’s POVThe night air felt colder than usual.Or maybe it was simply the hollow rage settling beneath my ribs as the car sped through the capital, the city lights streaming past the windows like shards of broken gold. Everything blurred outside, but inside me there was only clarity—sharp, merciless, suffocating clarity.Every breath tasted metallic.Every heartbeat felt like it scraped against bone.I dialled Diana again.No answer. I tried once more. Still nothing.My jaw clenched as the ringing echoed in my ear, each tone sinking deeper into the place where panic and fury intertwined. I could picture the palace—the tall stone walls, the serpentine corridors, the guarded doors—and Selene somewhere inside it, watching the broadcast that was never meant to reach her eyes.The broadcast of that woman standing beside me.The broadcast of my father’s trap.My hands curled into fists so tight the leather seat creaked beneath them.He did it perfectly. Too perfectly.Cornered me. Humiliat
Selene’s POV“It will be a huge downgrade, my lady. You know this court. They’ll call you names. They’ll treat you like you’re nothing. Competing with Nala Longman? Being compared publicly? Constantly? It will break you,” Diana said.Her words felt like blunt blows landing one after the other. Each one hurt, but each one was true. And the truth was always an unforgiving weapon in this palace.More tears gathered.Hot. Heavy.Exhausting.“And besides,” Diana continued, rubbing my shoulder gently, “you know the King. He will not allow you to marry Aric. Ever. Even if you’re free. Aric is his favourite, and to the King you are tainted. The court won’t allow it either. Not after the scandal. You know how they think.”“I know,” I whispered.The words tasted like blood. Like something inside me was severing itself to make space for this acceptance.“Even if you leave Damon,” she went on, her voice soft but mercilessly rational, “Aric will have to marry Nala. Eventually. And even if he loves
Selene’s POVI knew about the gala. Of course I did.Every servant whispered about it.Every guard polished their boots with unusual urgency.Every corridor hummed with the kind of tension that only surfaced when the palace needed to pretend everything was perfect.Even the flowers around the fountain in the east courtyard looked unnaturally bright, like someone had dragged sunlight across their petals and forced them to bloom faster just to uphold the illusion of grandeur.Eldenwald was always best at illusions.But I wasn’t invited.And for the first time in my life, being excluded from a royal event felt like mercy.I didn’t want makeup painted over my sadness. I didn’t want jewels hanging at my throat like the weight of expectation.I didn’t want eyes crawling over me like insects, dissecting my humiliation between sips of wine and artificial laughter.I didn’t want to face anyone.Not after everything. Not while my heart still felt cracked open with a hammer.So I remained in my r
Aric’s POVThe King stood nearby, his approving nods fueling the ministers’ enthusiasm. They looked at him the way desperate men look at a torch in the dark, not because it offers warmth, but because it offers survival. To them, tonight was a triumph.They saw a saviour in me.A prince securing an alliance with Belmonte strong enough to keep Eldenwald from collapsing under the weight of drought and political decay.A prince choosing duty over desire.They cheered for me.Cheered for a future I never chose. Cheered for a lie choreographed behind silk curtains.And all I could think was:Selene. Selene. Selene.Her face.Her voice trembling against the static of Diana’s phone.Her breath hitching as she whispered my name.The quiet fear threaded through her question—the fear she tried to hide even from herself.“Aric… is there something you want to tell me?”I had never hated a room more in my life.The lights, the music, the applause, the watching eyes—all of it blurred into a nauseating
Aric’s POVThe announcement struck the room like a blade drawn slowly across glass, soft at first, then sharp enough to cut through the air and leave the echoes bleeding.“Lady Nala Longman, and her uncle, Kent Longman!”My stomach tightened.Of course.Of course this was why the King insisted on my presence. Why he demanded I attend. Why he dressed the invitation in urgency and importance. It had never been about diplomacy or unity or celebration.He had lured me here.Fed me praise.Paraded me beneath chandeliers and cameras.Positioned me on a pedestal for the entire kingdom to watch.All so he could box me into a corner.Blindside me.Force my hand using the throne as leverage and the press as chains.The crowd shifted. The murmurs grew louder, like the tensions beneath Eldenwald’s marble foundations had suddenly found their voices. Damon lowered his head slightly, his posture bending beneath the weight of something only he understood. Ivana’s smirk widened, not gracefully, but cr
Selene’s POVFour moons.That was how long I’d been gone from the packhouse. Four moons since I’d walked out of the Alpha’s wing and left behind the life everyone believed I would crawl back to.And for those four nights, my communicator crystal hadn’t stopped pulsing.Damon called at dawn, dusk, m
Selene’s POVThe moment I stepped into the Bloodmoon Throne Hall, the air shifted.Conversations died mid-sentence. Music stumbled. Wolves who had spent their lives mastering composure forgot how to breathe.For a heartbeat, the entire room—the nobles, the Elders, the ranked wolves, the courtiers—s
Selene’s POVLuna Ivana never broke her promises.And that was the problem. Her promises were never gifts, they were traps, wrapped in silk and sealed with poison.The next morning, she summoned my parents.They arrived with stiff backs and tighter expressions, every step echoing their shame. My f
Selene’s POVThe engine’s low hum filled the night, steady and hollow like a heartbeat in a crypt.“Where to, Luna?” the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. His tone was careful—deferential—but I caught the flicker of pity in his eyes.Where to?For the first time in my life,







