ROVAN’S POV
I couldn’t believe I was thrown out.
Physically escorted off the Lycan palace grounds like some unruly rogue.
The guards didn’t even look me in the eye when they shut the gates behind me. As if I wasn’t once the Luna’s mate. As if I wasn’t born of one of the oldest bloodlines in Blackmaw. As if I didn’t matter.
I’d taken punches before. From rivals. From rogues. From my father during training years ago.
But this?
This one landed different.
I didn’t speak on the way back. I barely heard the thudding hooves of the horses or the crunch of the forest underfoot. My thoughts kept circling the moment Sylra’s eyes found mine, glinting like fire and frost, and then turned away like I wasn’t even worth the effort.
That, and Caelan.
Standing there like a damn shadow stitched to her side.
He was nothing but a snitch and Sylra needed to know that.
When I arrived home, the estate was too quiet.
Too still.
I pushed open the doors and didn’t even make it to the staircase before Elene’s voice cut through the silence.
“Where the hell have you been?”
She was standing at the top of the stairs, arms folded, one foot tapping against the marble like a ticking bomb.
I didn’t answer right away.
Her heels clicked hard as she descended, eyes sharp and narrowed. “I asked you a question, Rovan.”
“I went to the border,” I said flatly. “Had a patrol with my Beta.”
Her expression darkened, and a humorless laugh escaped her throat. “Really? That’s funny.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw your Beta ten minutes ago. In the courtyard. Laughing. With his shirt off.”
I said nothing.
“What were you really doing?” she demanded, voice rising. “Don’t lie again.”
I sighed and started walking past her, toward the hallway.
“Elene, I’m not doing this right now.”
She followed. “You went to see her, didn’t you?”
I stopped.
“You couldn’t help yourself. The moment you found out she was the Lycan King’s daughter, it’s like you lost every ounce of sense in your head. You’re obsessed.”
“I’m not obsessed,” I said, jaw tightening.
“Then what are you?” she snapped. “Because you sure as hell aren’t mine anymore.”
“I never belonged to you.”
Her face fell for a moment, just enough to sting, but then she snapped back, louder.
“You can’t let her go, can you? Even after everything. Even after she rejected you in front of the entire pack!”
I turned and walked away again.
“Don’t walk away from me!” she shouted.
But I did.
Because I couldn’t explain it to her or myself why I felt this way. I couldn’t explain why Sylra’s voice haunted my dreams. Not the way my chest burned like a brand where the bond used to live. Broken, yes—but still echoing, still thrashing in the hollow space it left behind.
I barely made it three steps into the west wing when I saw my mother.
Lady Vela.
Standing in the hallway with a glass of something dark and expensive in her hand, her lips already pulling into that calculating smile I knew too well.
“Rovan,” she said, tilting her head, “how was your… meeting?”
I blew out a breath. “I was thrown out.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I tried to speak with Sylra. I didn’t even get past ten words before the guards dragged me out like a criminal.”
Lady Vela stared at me, stunned for half a heartbeat.
Then her face changed, charged with fury.
“They escorted you out?” she asked coldly. “Publicly?”
I nodded.
“In front of the summit?”
“Yes.”
She laughed once—short and sharp. “Oh, that girl has grown teeth, hasn’t she?”
“I told you,” I muttered, “she’s changed.”
Lady Vela took a sip from her glass, thoughtful now.
“You know,” she said slowly, “this could be… fixed.”
My brows drew together. “Fixed?”
She smiled.
And I immediately didn’t like the way her eyes glinted when she said, “I have a plan.”
I exhaled, wary. “What kind of plan?”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping low. “We kill her.”
The words hit me like ice water.
“What? No,” I said immediately, stepping back. “Absolutely not.”
She laughed, waving her glass like I’d just told a joke.
“I’m serious, Mother.”
“So am I,” she replied, far too calmly. “If we can’t control her, we remove her.”
“She’s the Lycan King’s daughter.”
“All the more reason,” she said. “Do you have any idea what that kind of power means if it falls into the wrong hands? Or worse—stays in hers?”
“She was ours.”
“Not anymore.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that. You want to assassinate her because I was thrown out? What good will that do?”
She shrugged. “It wouldn’t be difficult. She trusts too easily. You just need to be close enough—”
“I said no.”
Her expression hardened. “Nobody humiliates my children and walks away unscathed.”
Her words landed like daggers in my stomach.
I looked away. “If anything happens to Sylra, you will be held responsible.”
I said and walked past her with rage bubbling inside of me.
