Chapter 147
(Raiden’s POV)
The instant Zion utters Siena’s name, something dark and primal explodes to life inside me.
I’m standing by the window of my office, staring out at the twilight shadows creeping slowly across Windhowl, when he casually, confidently announces his intentions–words that slice through me like a blade.
“I’m going to court Siena once she returns,” Zion says, his voice calmly resolute, as if stating a simple fact rather than igniting a spark that could burn everything between us. “She deserves someone who appreciates her.”
My fingers tightened on the window ledge, and my knuckles turned white. Horace snarls deep within me, hackles raised, furious at the mere thought of Siena with another male.
“Who does he think he is?”
Possessiveness coils hot and tight in my chest, sharp and merciless, even as my rational mind fights against it, stubbornly denying the truth.
“Horace, enough.”
I turn slowly, forcing my expression into a practiced neutrality, even as my heart pounds violently beneath my
ribs.
Zion stands calmly at my desk, shoulders squared, meeting my gaze unflinchingly. For a moment, I see the boy from my past–the loyal friend who stood by me through countless battles, triumphs, and losses. Yet now, as I look at him, he appears only as a rival, a threat to the mate I once so carelessly rejected.
Traitor.
“That’s impossible,” I say coldly, my voice dangerously low. “It’s inappropriate. Siena is the former Luna of this pack. Courting her would complicate pack politics unnecessarily.”
Zion’s eyes narrow slightly.
He knows me too well to be fooled by my carefully maintained coldness. “This isn’t about politics, Raiden. It never was. Siena deserves happiness, and you forfeited your right to decide who gives it to her.”
Anger surges hotly through my veins, pride clashing violently with possessiveness.
The growls are getting deeper, fangs bared. “We both know what belongs to us. Why do you hesitate? The path forward is clear- take it! Claim what is rightfully yours!”
“No. Horace, I can’t… I won’t. Even if it means standing alone, my pride won’t let me admit I was wrong.”
Horace circles impatiently. “Your pride? Your pride is nothing but chains you’ve forged yourself. I can smell your desire beneath that facade.
Fists tightening, I’m losing control. “Better these chains than surrender. Some wounds cut too deep to simply forget.”
Horace huffs, “Denial doesn’t change truth. It only prolongs your suffering… and mine.
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Chapter 47
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“This has nothing to do with Siena,” I say through clenched teeth, lying blatantly, unconvincingly. I swallow hard, forcing calm into my voice, even as my heart races with panicked fury. “I’ve already forgotten about her.”
Zion scoffs openly, disbelief etched clearly across his features. “Forgotten her? You lie to yourself, Raiden. But don’t insult me by lying to my face.”
I step forward sharply, closing the distance between us in two strides.
My wolf bristles, urging aggression, violence, dominance–anything to silence the unbearable truth in his words. “Watch yourself, Zion,” I warn quietly, my voice edged with dark promise. “You overstep.”
He doesn’t flinch.
Instead, Zion squares his shoulders, chin raised defiantly. “You don’t intimidate me, Alpha. Not anymore. I stood by while you destroyed the best thing that ever happened to you, but I won’t stay silent anymore. Siena is free, and if she’ll have me, I’m going to court her openly.”
A red haze clouds my vision, and jealousy is blazing hot and savage inside me.
My instinct screams to challenge him, to fight and defeat him, reasserting dominance and ownership. Horace howls wildly, demanding action, demanding blood. I struggle fiercely against the impulse, my heart thundering, and pride battling desperately against the truth I refuse to face.
“You leave me no choice,” I growl softly, voice roughened with suppressed rage.
My hands tremble with the force of my emotions, anger and possessiveness tangling chaotically within me. “I challenge you, Zion. Traditional wolf duel. If you insist on pursuing Siena, you must defeat me first.”
Trail by death.
Shock flickers briefly across his face, quickly replaced by steely resolve. He nods slowly, accepting the gravity of my declaration. “Very well. If this is how we settle things, so be it, oh great Alpha King.”
Even as the words leave my mouth, I feel a sharp pang of regret pierce my chest.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
