ROVAN’S POV
There she was.
Bathed in moonlight and draped in power.
Sylra stood beside the Lycan King like she’d always belonged there, head high, posture regal, eyes steady. Her dark hair had been braided back, woven with silver threads and royal crests, and the dress… Gods. That dress clung to her like vengeance.
High collar, blood-red lining. House Thorne stitched across her shoulder in gold.
Not a trace of the girl I’d once dragged through humiliation remained. She wasn’t the outsider anymore.
She was the center.
And I couldn’t breathe.
My fingers twitched at my sides as I stared at her from across the great hall. All around us, nobles whispered. Eyes flicked from her to me and back again. Some widened in disbelief. Some smirked. But none of them mattered.
All I could think about was the night before.
How I couldn’t find her.
How her room had been emptied out—everything gone but the Luna pendant glinting on the dresser like a silent curse.
I remembered the ceremony. The way Elene smiled beside me, triumphant and polished.
I couldn’t stop myself as I stepped forward.
“Sylra,” I said.
She didn’t even glance at me.
I swallowed hard and took another step. “Sylra, please. Just—just one word.”
Her gaze slid past me like I didn’t exist.
She turned to the King instead. My chest caved in. So I shifted toward him.
“Your Majesty,” I said quietly, “is it true? Is she… is she your daughter?”
The Lycan King didn’t blink. “Yes.”
Sylra moved away and Elene grabbed me. “I think it’s best we leave now.”
Elene said nothing until we were outside the throne room.
“Well. That was dramatic.”
I didn’t respond.
“Oh, come on,” she snapped, letting go of my arm. “Are we seriously going to pretend that this isn’t ridiculous?”
My silence only seemed to provoke her more.
She threw her hands up. “ You’re going to fall apart because she showed up in a fancy dress with a title someone handed her?”
“She didn’t ask for that title,” I muttered.
“She rejected you, remember?”
“I rejected her first.”
“And now what?” Elene laughed coldly. “You want her back because she’s the Lycan King’s heir? Because you think groveling at her feet will restore your pride?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” she snapped. I looked away.
She stepped in front of me, her voice rising. “Say something! Deny it! Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t still want her.”
I stared at the ground.
“You can’t,” she whispered.
I didn’t.
She let out a sound of disgust and stormed ahead, disappearing into the shadows of the walkway.
When I finally stepped through the front doors of the estate, my body felt like it was made of lead.
I didn’t make it five paces before my mother appeared from the side corridor, all polished grace and poisoned sweetness.
“Rovan,” Lady Vela greeted, tilting her head. “How was your meeting with the Lycan King?”
I blinked, still trying to adjust. “I was… dismissed.”
Her eyes widened. “Dismissed?”
She gasped. “What? You? How dare they degrade my son like that.”
I didn’t respond.
She stepped closer. “What happened?”
Before I could answer, Neressa strolled in, sipping wine like nothing in the world mattered.
“Why does Elene look like she just murdered someone with her bare hands?” she asked, then glanced at me. “And why do you look like a ghost?”
I still said nothing.
They exchanged a look.
My mother raised an eyebrow. “Rovan. Speak.”
I took a deep breath.
And then I said it.
“Sylra is not who we thought she was.”
“Exactly,” Neressa said. “Which is why it’s good you’re done with her. She was barely worthy of the Luna title—”
“She’s the Lycan King’s daughter,” I said.
Both women froze.
Neressa lowered her glass. “What?”
Lady Vela blinked. “You’re kidding.”
