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CHAPTER 32: What Ronan Won't Say

Author: Sunkissed
last update publish date: 2026-09-02 08:56:59

Elira's POV

The formal invitations went out three days later, Ronan handling the correspondence himself rather than delegating it to household staff, a small but noticeable gesture of the care he'd been trying, gradually, to demonstrate since our conversation in the garden. I found myself, more than once that week, catching him rereading his own drafts with more care than the task strictly required, as though each letter carried weight beyond its practical purpose.

I didn't think much more abou
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  • THE LYCAN PRINCESS THEY BURIED    CHAPTER 68

    Selene’s POV I spent two days turning the problem over before I let myself actually act on it. It wasn’t that I hadn’t considered options before — small, half-formed thoughts that I’d dismissed as quickly as they arrived, uncomfortable with what they implied about the kind of person I might be becoming. I’d told myself, more than once, that I wasn’t capable of the kind of deliberate cruelty this household had spent two years accusing Elira of. That distinction had mattered to me, quietly, even when no one else was watching to notice whether it held. But Ronan’s letters kept multiplying on his desk, each one a small, deliberate step toward a future I couldn’t stand behind and watch arrive without doing something to slow it. I’d catch glimpses of them whenever I passed his study — neat stacks, sealed and addressed, evidence of a plan gaining momentum faster than I knew how to stop through honest means alone. I told myself, sitting at my writing desk that evening with a blank s

  • THE LYCAN PRINCESS THEY BURIED    CHAPTER 21: The Turn

    Selene’s POV I spent two days turning the problem over before I let myself actually act on it. It wasn’t that I hadn’t considered options before — small, half-formed thoughts that I’d dismissed as quickly as they arrived, uncomfortable with what they implied about the kind of person I might be becoming. I’d told myself, more than once, that I wasn’t capable of the kind of deliberate cruelty this household had spent two years accusing Elira of. That distinction had mattered to me, quietly, even when no one else was watching to notice whether it held. But Ronan’s letters kept multiplying on his desk, each one a small, deliberate step toward a future I couldn’t stand behind and watch arrive without doing something to slow it. I’d catch glimpses of them whenever I passed his study — neat stacks, sealed and addressed, evidence of a plan gaining momentum faster than I knew how to stop through honest means alone. I told myself, sitting at my writing desk that evening with a blank sheet

  • THE LYCAN PRINCESS THEY BURIED    CHAPTER 22: Cassian’s Evidence

    Elira’s POV Ronan had already shown me the letter two days earlier, quietly, in the privacy of his study, giving me the chance to explain before he decided what to make of it. I’d told him plainly that I hadn’t written it — that the handwriting, close as it was, carried small inconsistencies I recognized immediately as forgery rather than my own hand, the particular slant of certain letters slightly too deliberate, too careful, the way handwriting looks when someone is copying rather than simply writing. The sentiment inside it bore no resemblance to anything I’d actually said or felt, and I told him so plainly, watching his face for whatever reaction might follow. He’d studied the letter for a long moment, then studied me, and something in his expression had suggested he wanted to believe me even before I finished explaining. “I believe you,” he’d said finally, quiet, though something uncertain still lingered beneath the words. “I don’t know who wrote it. But I don’t think it wa

  • THE LYCAN PRINCESS THEY BURIED    CHAPTER 65

    Selene's POV I heard about Theron's letter before I fully understood what it meant, the household's ordinary gossip network carrying fragments of the news faster than anyone bothered confirming the full details with me directly. One of the kitchen staff mentioned it first, in passing, while helping arrange flowers for the evening meal — something about a formal letter Lord Theron had sent to his own father, something about withdrawing consideration of an alliance. I'd nodded along, keeping my expression carefully neutral, and excused myself the moment I could manage it without appearing to rush. He'd written to his father. Formally. Withdrawing any consideration of the alliance our families had spent months quietly, carefully building toward. I sat with the news in my own room, understanding, slowly and with mounting discomfort, exactly what it actually represented. Not a delay. Not careful diplomatic hedging while he sorted through complicated feelings. A complete, deliberate

  • THE LYCAN PRINCESS THEY BURIED    CHAPTER 64

    Selene's POV I heard about Theron's letter before I fully understood what it meant, the household's ordinary gossip network carrying fragments of the news faster than anyone bothered confirming the full details with me directly. One of the kitchen staff mentioned it first, in passing, while helping arrange flowers for the evening meal — something about a formal letter Lord Theron had sent to his own father, something about withdrawing consideration of an alliance. I'd nodded along, keeping my expression carefully neutral, and excused myself the moment I could manage it without appearing to rush. He'd written to his father. Formally. Withdrawing any consideration of the alliance our families had spent months quietly, carefully building toward. I sat with the news in my own room, understanding, slowly and with mounting discomfort, exactly what it actually represented. Not a delay. Not careful diplomatic hedging while he sorted through complicated feelings. A complete, deliberate

  • THE LYCAN PRINCESS THEY BURIED    CHAPTER 63

    Selene's POV I heard about Theron's letter before I fully understood what it meant, the household's ordinary gossip network carrying fragments of the news faster than anyone bothered confirming the full details with me directly. One of the kitchen staff mentioned it first, in passing, while helping arrange flowers for the evening meal — something about a formal letter Lord Theron had sent to his own father, something about withdrawing consideration of an alliance. I'd nodded along, keeping my expression carefully neutral, and excused myself the moment I could manage it without appearing to rush. He'd written to his father. Formally. Withdrawing any consideration of the alliance our families had spent months quietly, carefully building toward. I sat with the news in my own room, understanding, slowly and with mounting discomfort, exactly what it actually represented. Not a delay. Not careful diplomatic hedging while he sorted through complicated feelings. A complete, deliberate

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