MAEVE’S POV
I followed Francis behind the group of tall trees, my gaze darting back toward the clearing in the faint hope of catching sight of Ivan’s wolf.
No such luck.
"Is this about what just happened back there?" I asked. "Because I have a lot of questions, Francis—starting with what in the goddess’s na I just witnessed."
He stopped and turned to face , arms crossing over his chest as he took a slow, asured breath. But he didn’t speak right away. His silence only made my pulse thud harder in my ears.
"Francis." I stepped closer, unwilling to let him stall. "I’m not standing out here all night waiting for you to gather your thoughts. The ritual failed, Ivan nearly ripped your priest in half, and you dragged out here—so start talking."
For a mont, he just looked at , as if weighing whether he should even say what was on his mind. Then, finally—
"I called you out here, Maeve, because I want to talk to you about Ivan’s wolf."
My chest tightened, the priest’s earlier words about the tempering spell still echoing in my head. That wasn’t the kind of magic you just threw around.
Slowly, I forced the words out, my voice low.
"What about it?"
Francis’s jaw flexed, and he blew out a sharp breath.
"The thing is..." He hesitated, raking a hand through his hair. "Shit. Ivan’s definitely going to kill for telling you this, but I’ll take my chances."
His wariness was starting to rub off on , the worst of possibilities playing out in my head, turning my curiosity into unease. The longer he drew this out, the more I hated the suspense.
"What?" I glowered, irritation seeping into my voice. "How much longer are you going to drag this out?"
"Ivan’s wolf is unstable," Francis said at last, lowering his voice to a whisper. He cast a quick look around, as though he expected to see the elder or the priest eavesdropping.
My heart dropped like a stone. The words confird the sinking suspicion I hadn’t wanted to na. Unstable.
That single word felt both too big and too vague to an anything, yet it chilled to my core.
"Unstable how?" I pressed, forcing his gaze back to mine.
He swallowed hard before continuing.
"For the last five years, his wolf has been prone to aggressive, uncontrolled shifts, and outbursts where his wolf takes the seat. The first few tis it happened, he destroyed half the kitchen and injured several guards. Eventually, we got better at managing the episodes with the tempering spell. Now, whenever it happens, Ivan leaves the pack house imdiately and runs deep into the woods until it passes. But this might be the most abrupt I’ve witnessed so far. The most vocal, too."
The words hit like a physical blow, a cold rush shooting through my veins. My stomach sank, the forest suddenly feeling smaller, tighter. This was worse than I thought. Much worse.
"So that’s what tonight was?" I asked, mostly to myself. Sowhere out there, Ivan was still running wild because of his wolf’s instability.
My brows pulled together.
"You said this started five years ago," I added, the question slipping out before I could stop it. "That’s unusual. Instability like that doesn’t just appear out of nowhere in a wolf’s lifeti—there are almost always signs in childhood. So what could possibly trigger sudden, violent outbursts in a wolf as strong as him?"
"You," Francis said flatly, catching completely off guard.
"What? ?" I stiffened, heat rising in my chest. "How is any of this my fault?"
"The outbursts started shortly after you left." He gave a pointed look. "Don’t you get it, Maeve? He beca like this because of you. The bond you share is destined—stronger and far more valuable than either of you realize. Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on between you two right now—"
"There’s nothing going on between us," I snapped, my scowl deepening.
"Right." He cleared his throat but didn’t argue. "Nevertheless, I’m asking you to hold off on a third ritual—at least until we’re certain that severing the mate bond won’t cause more damage than we’re already dealing with."
"That’s a lot to ask of , Francis."
"It’s not, when you consider what’s at stake," he countered. "The alpha throne. The coronation. Ivan’s heir. All of that could be jeopardized if the severance ritual makes things worse. After what happened tonight, there’s a real chance he could completely lose control if the rejection actually works."
"I can’t think about that right now, Francis. Do you even realize what you’re asking of ?" I asked, flabbergasted. "Goddess. I can’t spend my entire life tethered to him! All I know is that I need this bond gone. The longer it’s there, the more it drags everything out—him, , this whole ss. If there are risks, then we deal with them when they co, but I’m not living like this for another full moon."
"For fuck’s sake, Maeve." His tone sharpened. "I’ve seen the way Ivan looks at you. And when you’re not around, you’re all he talks about. He wants you to give him a second chance to fix the past."
A sharp, humorless laugh tore from my throat.
"Did he pay you to say all this? Or do you just enjoy playing ssenger for him?" I stepped closer, tone dropping to a lethal whisper. "You don’t have the faintest clue what it ans to be mated to Ivan Cross. He might be your perfect Alpha, but he was the worst thing that ever happened to . And I’m not—" I shook my head, firmly. "I’m not subjecting myself to that again. I’m going ahead with the third ritual. Whatever second chance he thinks he wants—it’s not happening."
"But the ritual has already failed twice," Francis shot back, his voice rising with frustration. "Why do you think a third will be any different? Have you even stopped to think about why you two keep resisting the pull of the separation ritual?"
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