IVAN’S POV
I was still reeling from my eting with Maeve as I returned to the throne room, dispersing the last of the wedding crowd.
At this point, it was clear—there wasn’t going to be a wedding anymore.
The flower arrangents were already being cleared away. The decorations were being pulled down.
Serena was nowhere to be found. Most likely holed up in her chambers, throwing a fit. She had spent weeks planning this wedding—obsessing over every last detail.
I could understand why she’d be upset. But it didn’t change the fact that I had an heir.
Although the DNA results had yet to be revealed, I couldn’t deny the resemblance. The boy was mine.
The test was nothing more than a formality—sothing to silence any opposition that might arise in the future.
I had been around pack politics long enough to know that legitimacy was everything. A single shred of doubt could create fractures that would be impossible to nd.
And the last thing I wanted was for Asha to grow up as a question mark. Or for Maeve to be left vulnerable to the inevitable backlash.
While we waited for the results, I made arrangents for both of them to stay in the Alpha’s wing. Lavish. Spacious. Right across from Mother’s chambers.
It was practical.
Maeve needed easy access to her patient, and I needed her where I could keep an eye on her. Now, all that was left was for her to do what she ca here to do.
By the ti I made it back to my chambers, I was exhausted.
I unfastened my bow tie, tugging it loose as I reached for the decanter of brandy on my dresser. Halfway there, I switched on the lights.
And stopped.
Serena was sprawled across my bed. Still in her wedding dress, sans veil.
Her elaborate updo had fallen into a ss of tangled curls. Mascara streaked down her face, staining her cheeks.
And in her grip, my decanter of brandy. Half-empty.
I narrowed my eyes at the quickly diminishing alcohol stash.
"Well, this is quite the developnt," I muttered, my voice devoid of the passion I had used with Maeve.
At the sound of my voice, Serena’s head jerked off my pillows.
"Ivan. Baby." She blinked sluggishly, struggling to focus. "Where have you been? I’ve been waiting ages for you."
Her voice slurred. She burped, unladylike, unbothered, then tried to climb off the bed. Tried, and failed.
She lost her footing, stumbling toward the floor. I caught her wrist, keeping her upright.
"Phew!" She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "That was close."
"You’re drunk," I said flatly, ripping the bottle from her grip.
"No! I’m barely tipsy," she whined, reaching for the bottle. "After everything that’s happened today, I deserve to be tipsy. Now, hand it over."
She made another grab for it. I held it out of reach, irritation flickering to life in my chest.
"That’s enough," I said, tossing the decanter onto the bed. "You’ve had more than enough, judging by the way you’re acting."
I knew I should be more understanding—given everything that had happened. But I was tired. And pissed.
The last few hours had been a goddamn circus, and the last thing I wanted to do was play babysitter.
"I’m allowed to act however the fuck I want," she snapped, her expression hardening into sothing bitter and accusatory.
Then, just as quickly—her face crumpled. Her eyes welled with tears. Great. Just what I needed.
"I can’t believe how quickly you called off our wedding—all because of her," she wailed, voice climbing toward hysteria. "That bitch is the reason I’m not on my honeymoon right now."
I exhaled sharply.
"I didn’t call off shit," I said evenly. "Maeve caused a scene. She announced Asha as my heir in the middle of the fucking throne room. There was no way we could move forward with the ceremony after that."
"Asha." She sneered, spitting the syllables like they tasted foul. "I see we’re on a first-na basis with the bastard."
My head snapped toward her.
"Watch it." My tone dropped into sothing cold, sothing sharp. "I know you’re upset, but that’s no excuse to talk shit about a child who very well might be mine."
"Nothing has been decided yet," she hissed. "The test results aren’t in."
"Nevertheless," I said, voice firm. "Until everything is settled, our wedding is postponed."
"How can you be so sure she’s not lying?" Serena sneered, her voice twisted with bitterness. "It’s Maeve. She’s always been careless and vindictive. That’s why she lost your heir five years ago. And now, she’s back with a bastard because she knows you’ll be crowned Alpha King soon. She’s trying to stake a claim to what’s mine, and I won’t stand for it."
I sighed with irritation, rolling my neck to release so of the tension clawing at .
"You know, if you put as much effort into producing heirs as you do with running your mouth and making baseless accusations, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now."
Serena’s lips parted slightly, her bloodshot eyes narrowing.
"What the hell is that supposed to an?" She wiped at the angry tears staining her cheeks.
"It ans I gave you every opportunity to provide with pups in Maeve’s stead, and five years later, you’ve yet to do that. You’re in no position to stake a claim to anything."
Her lips curled, her expression twisting with resentnt.
"So, it’s my fault that Maeve waltzed in here with so kid who may or may not be yours?" She let out an ugly, humorless laugh. "And since when did you start defending her?"
"Serena," I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face. "It’s been a long fucking day. Go to your room. We’ll talk in the morning."
"No." She crossed her arms, her body vibrating with fury. "I want to talk about it now. I want to know what happened between you two while you were locked up in that study. Do you still have feelings for her? Is that why you were so quick to call off our wedding? Answer !"
"Enough!"
The sound of my voice ricocheted off the walls, violent and enraged, shaking the foundations from its roar. My nostrils flared as rage coiled inside . I needed an outlet.
The closest thing within reach was my gold-flecked stool. I kicked it with a brutal snap of my foot, sending it flying across the room. It hit the wall and broke into two halves.
Serena flinched violently, sucking in a sharp breath. The silence stretched between us. Even the air was strained. Thick with a suffocating tension.
I pointed a finger at her, my voice low and dangerous.
"Listen closely. You don’t have the right to make demands here. We had an arrangent. You give an heir, and I keep you around. But as it is, you don’t have an heir. You bring nothing to the table. You’re worthless to . Understood?"
Her breath hitched. "Ivan—"
"Get out."
She hesitated, trembling, lips quivering—on the verge of another emotional outburst. I didn’t have the patience for it.
"Get. Out."
The command left no room for defiance. She spun on her heel and stord out, slamming the door behind her so hard the hinges rattled.
The quiet that followed was blissful. I exhaled, soaking it in.
After a mont, I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text to my beta.
’Co to my chambers.’
Then, reclaiming my brandy decanter from the bed, I tilted it back, draining what was left.
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