IVAN’S POV
My chest twisted. A bitter laugh scraped my throat.
"She doesn’t want that—that is why we keep trying the severance."
"And what makes you think that when the severance works, she won’t just leave with her son?"
That made pause.
"She... she wouldn’t. We are working toward joint parenting." Lies. But it was one I intended to make true.
"Oh, I see." He nodded, approval slick in his eyes. "Seems you have everything figured out. I trust you, Ivan. You are your father’s son. And between the both of us, I don’t think a rabid wolf is such a bad thing. Having that much strength, that taste for carnage at your fingertips—it’s power."
His eyes glinted.
"Well, I don’t want to be known for that. I want to be Ivan Cross before whatever rabid bullshit."
"Of course, of course." He nodded deeply in agreent. "Though... I just have to say one more thing—think about your next moves strategically, my boy. The joining of the Cross household with the Montrose will be undefeated. You’d have connections to my trade routes, and my treasury would be yours. The wedding will be all on if you go ahead. You know as well as I do—now, more than ever, the pack needs to see their Alpha as a stable family man."
My wolf roared in defiance to his words.
"Actually, Vance, I already intend on breaking things—"
"Elder Vance!" Francis’s loud, cheerful voice cut through mine as he approached, though the warning in his eyes, directed at , was sharp as steel.
Two simple lines: shut up.
"Ah, Francis. It has been too long." Vance returned the enthusiasm.
"Not long enough, really," Francis laughed, strained. "Do you mind if I steal the Alpha away? The crown cos with too many responsibilities."
"Of course—he is the man of the throne, after all." Vance turned his grin to , hand extended for a shake. I took it, his grip tightening. "I can’t wait to be part of the family. Think about it, my boy."
"Thank you, Vance. We’ll speak." I faked a smile.
"Soon, I hope," Vance replied. "Ash Creek loves a big wedding." He sing-songed it, but by then Francis was already pushing away.
We kept our rigid walk until we were out of the public halls and down an empty corridor.
The palace was alive around us—midday ant the world was awake and loud. Servants moved through the main passageways, arms loaded with trays and als.
Guards shifted at their posts, so lost in conversations, but stiffened into perfect forms when we walked by. A few were more eager to trade gazes and pleasantries with Francis than they were with .
Finally, when the walls narrowed and the noise fell away, we found ourselves swallowed by an emptier wing—all stone floors and sunlight filtering in through a tall arch, the air blessedly still for once.
It was only then that I stopped, spun on him sharply, and faced him fully with a glare.
"Why did you stop ? He should hear it from . Serena and I are not happening—I already intend to send the notice to her."
"And why is that? Because Maeve is back in the picture?" Francis’s tone hardened. "With all due respect, Ivan, have you gone insane? Did you hear nothing in that council chamber? I hate those old bastards, but right now, the pack doesn’t need more instability. They need to believe in sothing—even if that’s you and Serena."
"That is not happening! I can barely stand her."
"Well, suck it up, champ. We need n like Vance Montrose on your side when you take that throne. He might be smooth-talking and kind now, but he won’t be so favorable if you make him your enemy. And do you know the best way to do that? By rejecting his only precious daughter."
"So what do you expect to do?" I growled.
"I expect you to keep Serena, even if it’s just a union made of paper. Kill that delusion that Maeve could be yours again, because the woman has made it clear she never will be. In fact..." Francis’s voice dropped, hardened with warning, "I don’t even think she can be trusted. Her own assistant testified against you—that says sothing. Maeve might be in on—"
"She has no reason to be," I snarled, my glare cutting through him.
"Look, I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers," Francis admitted, exhaling hard. "But I do have your best interest at heart. And because I know you, Ivan. Sowhere in there, you’re still hoping Maeve will be your Luna."
I opened my mouth. Closed it. The truth was worse than wolfsbane. The kind that burns in your veins until you can’t tell where the pain ends and your own bones begin.
I didn’t just want my heir back—I wanted my family. Not the borrowed one Vance kept dangling in front of like scraps tossed to a starving hound.
I wanted the one that was mine. The one the Moon Goddess had already written for .
I wanted Maeve. I wanted Asha. I wanted the nights that should have been ours, the mornings that should have begun with their laughter instead of my own misery.
I wanted the future that I had once destroyed and replaced with this miserable ss.
I wanted all of it.
"You can’t stake Ash Creek on that fragile hope, man. You lost a good woman." His tone softened, almost sympathetic. "It’s ti to let her go now."
"I can’t."
"Then what if the third severance works? Because believe , she will ask for it."
I dragged a hand through my hair, my chest aching. "Even if the mate bond is gone, it’d only be to appease her. I want Maeve beyond so flimsy permit from the Goddess."
Francis sighed, frustration threading his words. "Fine. Maybe you can have her—but not now. Not when things are already in so much chaos. We don’t need Maeve and her bag of drama right now."
He fixed with a steady stare. "Survive the thirty days. Pass the final test. Get back the pack’s trust. Then choose."
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