IVAN’S POV
"You bastard!" she shrieked as she stord up to . "How could you do this to ? You were about to marry , Ivan! Marry ! And I walk in to see you almost fucking your rejected mate like—"
I ignored her. I needed sothing stronger than her screeching. I crossed the room, grabbed the nearest bottle of wine from the table, and ripped the cork out with my teeth.
The liquid burned down my throat, drowning out the sound of her hysteria.
"Are you even listening to ?!" she followed .
"No," I said flatly, pulling out a glass now and pouring, just to down it in one swallow.
"You humiliated in front of our people when you postponed our wedding, and now you’re eating right out of her fucking palms! Don’t you see how she has poisoned you? She has you bewitched! She intentionally made sure the rejection ritual failed! You should be pissed, Ivan! Yet you grind her like an animal with the whole pack right outside the door!" she screeched, louder by the second, each syllable a stab to the temple.
When I still said nothing, she stalked up until she was in my face, heaving.
"Ivan! I am talking to you!"
Her hand flew through the air, aiming for my face, but I caught her wrist mid-swing, twisting it and yanking her dangerously close. My grip was steel.
"Don’t," I gritted, voice low and lethal. "Don’t fucking try right now."
She ripped her hand free, shaking with rage.
"I should be the one saying that! Have you even bothered to think of how this affects ? I’m hurting! And that is not fair, Ivan! I was there for you five years ago—when that sa woman killed your son! I was the one who held you when you sobbed and drowned yourself in wine. I was the one who showed you the truth about your wife, even when it ant betraying my own best friend!" Her chest rose and fell violently. "Do you even understand how it feels to constantly be undermined by the person who broke your trust and cost you your heir? How can you even bear to be in the sa room with her—much less kiss her? Does your dead son an nothing to you?!"
Her voice pierced like a needle to the ear—but worse than that, it hit sothing darker. That night. The blood. The emptiness. The loss I still carried in the pit of my soul. The nightmares. The guilt.
Serena had been there. She’d said all the right things. Held when I was too far gone to stand. Brought herbs to keep from collapsing under my own grief.
She had comforted —because I had let her. Because I had been too fucked up to do the only thing that mattered: stand by my mate.
And that... was unforgivable.
I took another long drink. Let it burn.
Then said, flatly, "You’re getting nauseating, Serena. And exhausting. Maeve is my mate. It’s as simple—and as complicated—as that. You could wear her crown, her robes, bathe in her fucking scent, and you’d still only be what you are." I turned to face her, eyes hard. "A failed breeder. Don’t confuse the two."
Her face drained of color. Then turned blotchy, red and raw with humiliation.
"You absolute son of a bitch," she hissed, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. "Five years ago, you promised —"
"I promised a marriage of convenience," I cut in coldly, stepping closer so she couldn’t look away from the truth. "I never promised love. Or loyalty. Or even honesty. I wanted a child. And you were willing to spread your legs to give it to ."
Her breath caught like she’d been punched.
"Don’t insult my intelligence, Serena. You never wanted . You wanted a title. You wanted to be Luna so fucking bad you would’ve laid down for your best friend’s mate if it ant getting a taste of power. Don’t lecture on betrayal when you are the epito of it." My voice dropped, quiet and cruel. "And you don’t deserve a single shred of my love. Or my loyalty. Not when Maeve still breathes."
Her eyes were wide now, a deep frown settling on her face as she stuttered through her next words, flabbergasted.
"B-But she cost you your heir! Goddess knows how she got this new boy she’s passing off as yours, but—you must not forget, Ivan—that she destroyed your family, a-and you still want her?!"
I let out a low sound of amusent.
"Funny, really, how easily you weaponize the darkest mont of both our lives when it suits you," I said, tilting my head. "Maeve says she never had a drinking problem. And now... that’s interesting. Because a certain soone claid she did. A certain soone provided pictures... a story... a doctor’s report. Proof, right?" I leaned in, my voice cold. "But I’m inclined to believe there’s been so foul play. It’s embarrassing that it took five years to get here, but if that’s true—then the picture you showed was doctored."
Her eyes went round, panic starting to pool behind them, and she stumbled back.
"W-What? H-How can you say that? Y-You don’t really believe that, do you?"
I shrugged, stiff. "I don’t know what to believe anymore. But the more I think about it, the less I see the Maeve I knew ever risking our pup’s life."
Serena’s voice sharpened, striking like a wounded serpent.
"Really? So she sinks her claws back into you, spreads her legs, and now you’re ready to forget she’s the fucking villain she’s always been?"
"I’m not saying I believe her," I said evenly, my tone dangerously calm. "I’m saying I should have looked at the situation objectively from the beginning." I set the wine bottle down, stepped forward, and locked eyes with her. "So let’s do that now." A beat of a second. "How the fuck did you get that picture, Serena?"
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