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Chapter 179
~Lucy’s POV~
I didn’t know how long I stayed on the floor after Kieran left.
Ten minutes? Fifteen? Twenty minutes.
Maybe more.
When I finally stood, my legs wobbled. My cheek still burned. My ears were full of echoes of whispers, judgnt and that slap.
I didn’t cry again. Sothing colder than tears had taken over.
I picked up the discarded flowers Valerie had thrown and crushed them in my hand without thinking. The thorns pricked . I let them.
They didn’t hurt as much as he did.
My feet moved on their own, guiding back to my dorm. The hallway was rcifully empty now like students had scattered like crows after a fire. No one wanted to look in the eye.
Not like I wanted pity. What I wanted was Kieran’s lo...
No. I didn’t even know anymore.
I slamd the door to my room and leaned back against it, heart pounding like it wanted to escape.
My reflection in the mirror caught my attention. My hair was a ss. My makeup sared. And on my cheek—the imprint of his hand, pink and obvious.
"You begged for him," a voice in my head hissed.
"You humiliated yourself. For what?" my wolf questioned sharply. I had been determined to ignore her, but to what end or gain?
She was telling us the truth, but it did not matter, not even my insides scread for Kieran. To have him kiss like he used to when he fucked , to have him want , like he wished to Valerie, to have him ravish like he does all his playthings...
But that was my body.
My heart wanted sothing else. To be his through and through and have him want as his chosen mate, but I was asking for too much, wasn’t I?
A tear slid down my cheeks at how stupid I was.
"Scold yourself, belittle yourself as much as you want. It won’t change anything if you don’t treat yourself better and demand that he treat you nicely as well. Behave like a bitch, and that’s what you get."
Crystie hissed. My wolf had always been sarcastic toward . She called weak when she could, she did not want to interact most tis and left alone to myself.
I couldn’t bla her, though. I, too, did not like how pathetic I had beco because of my master.
"Why?" I cried, asking her.
"Why what?"
"Why do you treat this way?"
Crystie scoffed. "Maybe when you stand up for yourself and find a guy worthy of you, then I will give you the respect you deserve. If not, then take my voice of reasoning as you please and ignore ."
A scream tore out of .
I grabbed the nearest glass—an old perfu bottle—and hurled it across the room. It shattered into a hundred glittering pieces, like .
Like everything.
I slid down the wall until I was on the floor again, hugging my knees. My breath was jagged. My throat sore.
"He didn’t even look at ," I whispered to no one.
He never had. Not the way he looked at Valerie.
The way he wanted her. Touched her. Fought for her and risked everything for her.
And what was I?
A tool. A delivery girl. A pawn. A fool.
I buried my face in my arms, feeling the sting of rejection deeper than the slap.
After so minutes of crying...sothing darker crept into . A whisper that didn’t sound like mine.
"You were loyal."
I shook my head. It was my mind playing gas on .
"You gave him everything. And now... he’ll provide you with nothing in return."
That wasn’t fair.
And if I had to watch him chase after her again... I didn’t know what I would do next.
"For one at least, make sure Valerie Nightshade suffers for this humiliation."
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~Riven’s POV~
I dropped my bag and sat at the edge of the slab in the old laboratory. My chest still heaved from all the pent-up anger. One I hadn’t planned on letting out or in.
I hadn’t ant to stop.
I was heading to class. Nothing special. Nothing important.
Until I saw them.
Valerie and Kieran.
From where I stood at the far end of the corridor, I had a clear line of sight. My enhanced hearing picked up every word, even though I tried not to listen, even though I tried not to care.
She wasn’t mine. She was Dristan’s mate.
Still, sothing about the way she spoke—calm, fiery, brave—held my attention longer than it should have.
And Kieran... gods, that arrogant, smirking bastard.
I told myself I’d just pass by, that I’d ignore it. That it wasn’t my business. And I had almost succeeded. Almost... I was nearly halfway turned around...
Then I saw it.
His hand caught her wrist. His body caged hers against the wall. Her eyes widened, then narrowed—fighting, resisting.
And just like that, I wasn’t in PSA anymore.
I wasn’t nineteen, the son of a Council Leader. I wasn’t the Vice President of anything.
I was sixteen years old again. Standing in a dark corridor of the main estate. Hearing muffled screams. Slling blood. Feeling powerless.
My mother.
My mother was a damphir—half-human, half-vampire. Not "pure" by their standards. But she was beautiful. Bright and unapologetically so. My father loved her fiercely.
But his enemies didn’t.
They wanted to make an example out of him through her.
So they took her. Six n. Six monsters, two human bastards and vampires alike. They violated her, tortured her, and when they were done, they killed her—and fild the whole process.
Then sent the recording to my father as a warning.
A mockery.
I rember his roar. The way the screen cracked under his aura as it played. I rember the sound of my own screaming when I saw her dead body.
But what ca after?
Retribution.
I hunted down every one of them. I tore them apart. Bone by bone. Claw by claw.
The vampire girl they offered him as a ’replacent’ lady? I gutted her like an animal. Sent her heart back wrapped in silk.
"If my mother cannot sit beside my father in the daylight... then no other woman ever will," I swore.
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