Chapter 154

Ronan

The garden alcove was one of the few quiet corners left in the palace. Hidden behind high hedges and pale trellises, it was meant for peace. A place for Lunas to sip tea, read letters, maybe breathe in silence for a while.

But when I found Lila there, it didn’t look like she’d found any peace at all.

She sat on the stone bench, hunched forward. The shawl draped around her shoulders had slipped halfway down her arms, pooling in her lap as if she no longer cared whether it kept her warm.

Her fingers trembled against the rough edge of the bench, pale knuckles stark against the weathered stone.

Two guards stood a few paces away, posted just inside the garden arch; silent, still, but watchful. Their presence was supposed to protect her. All it did was remind me, and Lila, she was a prisoner here.

I approached slowly, boots crunching against the gravel path. Lila’s gaze was fixed on the rosebush opposite her: thorned and bare, winter having stripped it of any blooms.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” I said quietly.

She didn’t answer at first. Only blinked, slow and heavy, as if dragging herself back from somewhere far away.

“I’m not alone,” she murmured finally, voice hoarse. Her eyes flicked toward the guards, then back to the roses. “Am I?”

There was no bitterness in her tone, just exhaustion. The bone-deep kind that settled in. I’d seen this type of exhaustion in warriors after battle, who had given up hope.

I moved closer, careful not to startle her, and lowered myself onto the bench beside her. The stone was cold even through the leather of my trousers.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The faint wind stirred the branches above us, carrying the distant sound of clashing steel from the training yard.

Lila’s hands tightened in her lap.

“Do you believe he loves me?” she asked suddenly.

The question caught me off guard. My mouth opened, closed again.

“Damon,” she clarified, barely more than a whisper. “Do you believe he… loves me?”

I studied her profile: the hollow of her cheeks, the faint shadows beneath her eyes, the way her lips trembled though she tried to keep them still.

She looked younger like this. Fragile, almost. But I knew better. Lila wasn’t fragile. She was breaking, and no one was helping her put the pieces back together.

“I think he…” I hesitated, searching for words that wouldn’t wound her further. “I think he’s trying.”

Her laugh was soft, bitter. “Trying isn’t the same as loving.”

The wind tugged at a loose strand of her hair, catching it against the dampness on her cheek. I wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears. She didn’t seem to notice either way.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she admitted, voice cracking. “My mother’s gone. My wolf’s gone. I can’t… I can’t even tell if I’m angry at him or just… tired.”

I wanted to tell her she had every right to be both. That she deserved more than half-truths and locked doors. That she deserved someone who would choose her fully, openly, every day.

Instead, I reached out slowly and covered her trembling hands with mine. Her fingers were cold, almost clammy. She flinched at the touch, startled, but didn’t pull away.

“You’re still you,” I said quietly. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

Her breath shuddered out, uneven. For a long moment, she stared at our joined hands — her smaller, thinner fingers swallowed by mine. Then she closed her eyes.

“I just want to feel free,” she whispered.

The words pierced straight through me.

Behind us, the guards shifted, murmuring quietly to one another before falling silent again. I ignored them.

Let them watch. Let them report back to Damon or the council or whoever else was listening. None of that mattered right now.

Right now, Lila needed someone.

I squeezed her hands gently, silently making a promise I didn’t dare speak aloud: I’ll get you free, one way or another.

Her fingers twitched faintly under mine, as if part of her wanted to pull away but another part, the part that still believed in something, kept her there.

The faint tremor in her hands eased, just barely, and I let my thumb brush along her knuckles in slow, steady passes. I could feel her pulse there, quick and fragile, like the beat of a bird’s wings against my palm.

The urge to tell her everything, what I suspected, what Damon was doing, burned at the back of my throat. But I swallowed it. She’d been dealt enough blows for a lifetime, and it wasn’t my place.

For now, I would be the warmth she could still reach for, even if she didn’t know how much of myself I was placing in her hands.

When she opened her eyes again, they glistened with a kind of weary gratitude.

And for the first time in days, she didn’t look entirely alone.

Damon

From the balcony above the gardens, I’d come looking for a moment to think without council whispers clawing at my ears. Instead, I found them.

Ronan sat beside Lila on the stone bench in the alcove below. It was hidden from most angles, but from here I saw everything: the slant of Lila’s shoulders, the way she leaned toward him, his hands covering hers in comfort.

The sight slapped me in the face. Zane reacted first, snarling low in my chest, claws raking for release. He touches what’s ours.

I gripped the balcony’s railing until my knuckles whitened. The edges dug into my palms, grounding me, barely keeping the wolf from tearing free.

Every instinct screamed at me to leap the railing, to drag Ronan away from her, to remind them both what she was.

Mine.

But my body locked in place as I watched her head dip toward him, lips parting on words I couldn’t hear. Whatever she said, it made Ronan hold her hands tighter.

Zane’s growl deepened. He’s taking her from us. You’re letting her get away.

I forced my jaw shut against the roar building in my throat. Logic tried to reason… Ronan had always been loyal, had always protected her when I couldn’t.

But reason drowned under jealousy’s tide. All I saw was closeness I hadn’t earned lately. All I saw was betrayal from my best friend.

The guards stationed nearby stood silent, oblivious to the storm brewing above them. To them, this was nothing more than the King’s Beta offering comfort to their Luna. But to me… to me it was a knife twisting deeper in my chest.

She’d turned to him instead of me.

I tore my gaze away before I shattered the railing under my hands. My boots struck the floor as I turned from the balcony, steps quick and sharp. The corridor walls closed in on me with every stride.

Ronan’s loyalty had always been unquestionable. Mine had always been to my mate. And now, I questioned if either of those things were true anymore.

By the time I reached the training grounds, my thoughts were a snarl of jealousy, guilt, longing, all knotted so tightly I couldn’t untangle them.

We’re losing her, Zane hissed. Do something.

You think I’m doing nothing? We’re trying to save her.

I tried to let that thought soothe the raging emotions threatening to take over. But I couldn’t shake the dread that started to sink in.

The worst part wasn’t watching Ronan hold my mate’s hands. The worst part was knowing I’d driven her into his.