[Third Person].
Draven let the silence stretch, though it wasn’t accidental.
In fact, it was deliberate—ant to settle, to weigh down on Wanda’s chest until every last excuse collapsed under its own emptiness.
When he finally spoke again, his voice was calm, level, and utterly rciless. "Wanda Fellowes," he said.
Her spine stiffened.
"I have seen enough to know that you are far too old to learn lessons you have repeatedly chosen to ignore." His gaze did not waver.
"From this mont forward, you are banned from entering the Oatrun Estate unless you receive a formal invitation. Any violation of this will be treated as trespassing."
Wanda’s breath hitched, and Draven continued without pause.
"You are also removed from my personal warrior battalion. Effective imdiately." His tone sharpened. "You do not follow orders. You lack discipline. And you lack respect. There is no reason for you to remain under my command."
That broke sothing. Her hands trembled slightly, though she clenched them hard enough to stop it from showing.
"And finally," Draven said, his voice turning colder still, "you will never address my mate by her given na again."
Wanda looked up sharply.
"You will refer to her only by her title," he went on. "She is the Luna of Mystic Furs. And future Queen of Stormveil."
The words landed like a verdict.
"If you ever disrespect her again," Draven finished, "you will be awarded with one hundred strokes of the cane. I will not warn you twice."
Sothing inside Wanda twisted, then snapped. Her eyes burned red, not with tears—she refused to cry—but with sothing darker. Bitter. Corrosive.
The love she had carried for years, warped and obsessive, curdled slowly into sothing else.
’He is too harsh,’ she thought venomously. ’So cruel and unforgivable.’
For the first ti, she did not look at Draven with longing. She looked at him with resentnt.
And redith heard it all: every poisonous thought, every sharp edge of hatred replacing devotion.
redith’s stomach tightened.
She felt it—felt the mont Wanda’s love died, and sothing far more dangerous took its place. This wasn’t infatuation anymore. This was pure intent.
Just then, Valmora’s voice slid into her mind, low and alert. ’Be careful now. She has nothing left to lose.’
redith didn’t look away from Wanda. She couldn’t because she truly understood now. If Wanda ever struck again, she wouldn’t hesitate. She would go all out.
At the sa ti, Wanda rose slowly to her feet. She drew herself up, smoothing her clothes, gathering the shreds of her pride with trembling precision. Then she formally bowed deeply to Draven.
"I accept my punishnt, Alpha," she said in a detached tone, stripped of warmth, stripped of affection. Then, she turned to leave.
"Don’t forget your bag of money," Dennis said flatly.
Wanda paused. She glanced back at him, her eyes cold now. "Thank you for the reminder."
Then, she bent, lifted the heavy bag with one hand, and walked toward the door without another word.
Dennis watched her go with a tight jaw.
"I will excuse myself," he said shortly. "If I don’t see her get into that car and leave, my mind won’t be at rest."
Draven nodded once.
The door closed behind Dennis and Wanda with a final, echoing thud. The storm seed to have passed. redith knew the truth now.
This wasn’t the end. Rather, it was the beginning of sothing far more dangerous.
redith exhaled slowly and leaned back against the sofa. Whatever Wanda planned for the future, she refused to let it occupy her thoughts at the mont. She had given that woman enough space and enough power already.
Instead, sothing else surfaced in her mind.
"You ntioned an ergency earlier," redith said, turning her head toward Draven. "The one that pulled you and Dennis away. What was it?"
"Father called," Draven said. "He said King Alderic collapsed. Passed out suddenly. He wanted to go to the palace imdiately and wanted to see before leaving."
redith’s heart lurched. "The King?" she asked, alarm flashing across her face. "How is he now?"
Draven shook his head slightly. "We don’t know yet. Father hasn’t returned with details."
Her fingers tightened in her lap. "Draven... what if—what if this ti is different?"
He turned fully toward her, voice calm but firm. "This isn’t the first ti Alderic has collapsed. The physicians know what to do. He is being taken care of."
Still, redith couldn’t shake the unease curling in her chest. "I have a bad feeling," she admitted quietly. "What if he doesn’t recover?"
Draven studied her for a mont, then spoke carefully. "If the worst happens... then we may ascend the throne earlier than expected."
The words hung between them. redith didn’t know how to feel about that. Fear, uncertainty, responsibility, all tangled together.
"Do the other Elders know?" she asked after a pause.
"I’m not sure," Draven replied. Then, almost deliberately, he shifted the topic. "redith... I owe you an apology."
She looked at him.
"For the disrespect you have endured from Wanda," he continued.
redith’s gaze sharpened. "That apology," she said evenly, "was sothing you should have demanded from her before you sent her away."
Draven blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I... didn’t think of that."
"That’s the problem," redith replied.
He straightened imdiately. "Then I apologize for that mistake as well."
redith folded her arms. "I don’t need your apology." There was no anger in her voice, just finality.
"I won’t tolerate insolence from anyone again," she added, her tone calm, yet edged with command.
Draven felt the shift. This wasn’t the redith who swallowed slights for peace. This was a Queen who had drawn her line.
Still, he nodded once. "I will wrap this case up quickly."
She studied him briefly, curious about what he ant, but in the end, chose not to ask. "I still have gifts to give," she said, rising to her feet. "The servants worked hard today."
Draven stood as well. "You haven’t eaten. Won’t you have lunch first?"
She waved him off lightly. "You can eat without ." And then she walked away.
Draven remained where he was, watching the doorway long after she disappeared—uncertain whether she was angry, exhausted or already moving several steps ahead of him.
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