The Bargain Of Betrayal

CHAPTER Nineteen: The Bargain of Betrayal

Ronan’s POV

The scent of herbs filled the air—mint, crushed moonleaf, and a hint of lavender bark. I stirred the steaming brew slowly, watching the swirls rise like ghosts from the teacup. Lucien said she hadn’t been sleeping. Said her hands shook when no one was looking.

And she wouldn’t let me near her.

So this… this tea was the only thing I could give her now. A coward’s offering through someone else’s hands.

I poured it into a clay cup, the rim still warm from the fire. My fingers lingered on the handle. I closed my eyes and imagined her taking it—her lips brushing where my hand had been. Maybe it was stupid. Pathetic, even. But it made me feel close to her, even when she wanted nothing to do with me.

“I see you still make tea the same way,” a voice said behind me.

I stiffened. I didn’t have to turn to know it was her.

Sasha.

She stood in the doorway, bold as ever. Her hair fell in long waves down her back, her stance steady—too steady. There was no pain in her eyes. No regret. Only purpose. Cold, calculated, burning purpose.

I finally turned, my jaw tight.

“What do you want, Sasha?”

She walked in slowly, her boots tapping the wooden floor. Her eyes roamed the little room, the flickering candlelight casting sharp shadows against her features.

“I’ve been patient,” she said, casually. “I watched you throw everything away. For her.”

“Selene has nothing to do with this,” I said.

She scoffed. “You’re still protecting her? Even now?”

I turned away from her, grabbing the cup and preparing to leave, but her next words stopped me cold.

“I’ll give her the seat. I’ll walk away from the Alpha title. All she has to do is hear the truth from your lips.”

I turned, confused. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, stepping closer. “Go to her. Tell her she was just a substitute. A warm body. That you never loved her. That she was just a stand-in for me.”

I stared at her, stunned. “Are you insane?”

She didn’t flinch. “I’m being generous.”

“Generous?” I snapped. “You want me to destroy her—for what? For power?”

Her lips curled into a cold smile. “For what I earned. For what I died for. You think Selene fought battles? I gave everything for this pack. I bled for you, Ronan. I died for you.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to—”

“I died,” she said again, her voice sharper now. “And when I came back, I found my mate smiling at someone else. Giving her our home. Giving her my place.”

I shook my head, stepping back. “You’re wrong.”

“No. I was forgotten. That’s worse than death.”

I clenched my fists. “I didn’t forget you.”

Her voice dropped. Softer now, but still burning. “Then prove it. Tell her she meant nothing. Just words, Ronan. Say them. And this fight ends.”

I looked at her. Really looked at her. And for a second—I saw the girl I once knew. The woman I buried. The soul I mourned.

But that wasn’t who stood before me anymore.

“No,” I whispered.

She blinked. “What?”

“I said no. I won’t lie to Selene. Not again.”

Her eyes flashed. “You already did.”

“And I regret it every second,” I said, voice breaking. “But this—what you’re asking—it’s cruel. It’s beneath you.”

She stepped forward again. “I deserve that seat. You think she’ll make a better Alpha? You think she won’t crumble the moment things get hard? I died for this pack. She just stumbled into it.”

“She’s stronger than you know,” I said, my voice like steel. “She earned the pack’s respect—not with words or history—but with heart. With pain. With sacrifice.”

“She’s weak,” Sasha snapped. “She ran when I kissed you. She broke.”

“She loved me,” I said quietly. “And I broke her.”

The silence stretched between us.

“You’ll regret this,” Sasha said, her voice low. “I won’t lose. Not again. And you know me, Ronan. I always get what I want.”

She turned and walked out, her scent trailing behind like smoke after a fire.

I stared at the tea still in my hand.

It was cold now.

And all I could think of was Selene’s face when she saw us.

Her eyes.

Her silence.

Her tears.

And the one thing I hadn’t said to her—the only truth that mattered:

That I would burn the whole damn world just to be hers again.