Chapter 155

I violently shook my head as a scream tore from my throat. "No!"

Rage twisted with unbearable pain, my blood burning like fire as it surged through my veins. My hands trembled as I grabbed my phone, dialing Hadrian’s number with desperate urgency. The endless ringing only fanned the flames of my fury. How could he do this to me? He promised—he swore I would be his queen. He vowed to kill Selene. Was I the only one who had been in love? Had he been playing me this entire time? No. I refused to believe it.

When he didn’t answer, I called again. Straight to voicemail.

"You son of a bitch!" My voice cracked just as I ended the call. "You don’t even have the decency to pick up and say it to my face?!"

The frustration boiled over, raw and unbearable. I didn’t cry—I wouldn’t—but the urge to destroy everything around me threatened to take over. My hands clenched into fists, my breath ragged, my heart a hammer against my ribs.

Then, another message appeared on my screen.

I’m sorry, Thalassa. I can’t bring myself to talk to you. I never meant for this to happen, but it’s the truth.

Goodbye.

"Goodbye?" My jaw locked, my teeth grinding against each other. "Goodbye?!" I shouted at the phone, my rage spiraling into something dark and unrelenting. "You better pray they kill you, Hadrian. Because if they don’t, I will. And I promise, my way will be much worse."

I didn’t bother replying. There weren’t words strong enough to express the storm inside me. My hands shook violently, my breathing uneven. I knew I should call Freya and tell her, but the thought of reliving it—of speaking it aloud—was unbearable. I couldn’t sit in this room any longer. If I did, I would rip it apart, piece by piece, until nothing remained.

I needed a drink.

Descending to the hotel bar, I ordered a glass of wine. As the bartender poured, I changed my mind. "Give me the whole bottle."

With the glass full and the bottle in hand, I settled at the bar. The first drink disappeared in seconds, its burn barely noticeable beneath the fire already coursing through me. Minutes passed, and the alcohol began its slow work, dulling the edges of my fury. I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to breathe, to think.

Perhaps the pain had numbed me. Perhaps my heart, after everything, had grown immune to the sting of betrayal. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even feel broken. What surfaced instead was anger—an exhaustion deeper than heartbreak. Maybe love wasn’t meant for me. Maybe all I was destined for was this endless cycle of lies, deception, and loss.

I gave Hadrian everything—my heart, my soul... my blood. And in return, I was discarded. Replaced. Betrayed.

I barely noticed Kenzo sitting beside me until the weight of his gaze became impossible to ignore. He ordered a scotch, his eyes never leaving my face. I held onto my empty glass, pretending I couldn’t feel him watching me. But when his scrutiny became too much, I snapped.

"What?"

He lifted his hands in mock surrender, a smirk playing at his lips. "I come in peace."

"Kenzo, I am not in the mood. Leave me alone." I turned my attention to the glistening bottles lined along the bar’s back wall, willing him to take the hint.

His smirk faded, but he didn’t move. Instead, he studied me, his silence pressing against my frayed nerves. I poured another glass, drinking deeply. Kenzo sighed, reaching across the bar to still my restless fingers. His grip was firm yet careful, untangling my hand from the wineglass and placing it flat against the bar.

"I heard about Queen Selene," he said quietly. "Her pregnancy."

My breath caught.

He tightened his grip. "It’s confirmed, Thalassa. The child is Hadrian’s."

The words sank like a blade between my ribs. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Without thinking, I grabbed my glass and drained it in several quick gulps, as if the wine could drown the truth. Only when the glass was empty did I find the strength to look at him.

"How do you know?" I asked, my voice hollow.

Kenzo smirked, though it lacked his usual arrogance. "I have my sources in the palace."

"I see." I feigned indifference, but my fingers curled tightly around the stem of my glass.

Kenzo exhaled slowly, shifting on his stool to face me fully. He didn’t let go of my hand. "Thalassa… I know you’re hurting. I can see it. I can feel it. Tell me—what can I do to make it better?"

I narrowed my eyes, studying his face, searching for any trace of deceit. Kenzo was a game player, a master manipulator. But tonight, something about him felt… different. Warmer. Almost sincere.

I scoffed, breaking the tension. "You can get me another bottle."

Kenzo chuckled, shaking his head. "Wine won’t fix this. I have something stronger in my room." He stood, extending his hand.

I hesitated, staring at it.

He tilted his head. "I won’t bite you, Thalassa," he said, a teasing smirk curling at the corner of his lips. "Not that it would change anything between us."

A hundred thoughts warred in my mind. A hundred reasons to walk away. But in the end, I reached for his hand and let him lead me upstairs.

And strangely… I didn’t hate his attention.

As I stepped into Kenzo’s bedroom, I immediately noticed how it dwarfed mine in size. Twice as spacious, it exuded an air of luxury that felt almost suffocating. He guided me to the plush sofa positioned across from his imposing king-size bed before striding toward a sleek bar near his desk. With effortless grace, he poured two glasses of Remy Martin, the amber liquid catching the dim light.

Kneeling before me, he handed me a glass and clinked his own against it.

"To the swift recovery of Thalassa’s heart," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips as he lifted his drink in a toast.

I returned his gesture with a faint smile, accepting the glass. The smooth cognac burned slightly as it slid down my throat, but almost instantly, warmth spread through my limbs, unraveling the tension coiled deep in my muscles. It was as if the invisible walls around my heart thickened, dulling the ache that had been gnawing at me for far too long. With the pain momentarily numbed, clarity replaced the haze of emotion clouding my thoughts.

"Do you think there’s ever a chance you could lose your phone in the middle of a battle? Or that someone could steal it?" I asked, feigning nonchalance.

Kenzo chuckled. "Why? Did someone try to steal yours?"

"No…" I forced a nervous smile, swirling the liquid in my glass. "I just—" I hesitated. "I got some unpleasant messages, and I started wondering… is there even a possibility that someone else wrote them? That maybe…" My voice trailed off.

Kenzo’s gaze sharpened. "Did Hadrian send you something that hurt you?"

I blinked, caught off guard by how effortlessly he read between the lines. A dry, humorless chuckle escaped me. Of course, it had to be obvious—there was only one person capable of reducing me to this state over a few mere words.

"Yeah," I admitted quietly, dropping my gaze to my lap.

Kenzo straightened, settling beside me on the sofa. "If I had to communicate with someone I cared about, I’d kill anyone who so much as breathed near my phone."

His words made me grimace. The stark contrast between his possessiveness and my carelessness struck me like a slap. How many times had I left my phone unattended, vulnerable to prying hands?

"I’d bet my life Hadrian is the same," Kenzo added with a snort, taking a measured sip of his drink. "Anyone touching his phone must have had a damn death wish."

I swallowed hard, the weight of realization pressing down on me. He was right.

I downed another sip, as if the liquor could drown the resurgence of my heartache.

"God… how could I be so stupid?" I muttered through gritted teeth.

Kenzo’s hand brushed over my back in a fleeting touch—gentle, reassuring, but not overstepping. "Love makes fools of us all, Thalassa."

I forced a brittle smile. "Now that Selene is pregnant, the nobles will never let Hadrian divorce her…" The bitterness in my voice was unmistakable, each word a cruel reminder of the inevitable.

Kenzo shook his head. "Not a chance. With his heir growing inside her, she’ll be worshipped. She’ll become the goddess they believe will save their entire race."

I scoffed, tilting my head back. "What’s so special about being pureblooded? Maybe it’s time to give hybrids—or even humans with unique abilities—a real chance." I let out a dry laugh, bringing the glass back to my lips. "I happen to have abilities that could be worth something…" But despite my efforts, my voice cracked, betraying me. The liquor in my veins could only do so much to dull the pain clawing at my insides.

Kenzo didn’t hesitate. He pulled me into his arms, resting my head against his shoulder, his warmth seeping into my skin. "You," he murmured, his voice a low promise, "are the most extraordinary being on this earth. Let Selene have her throne among the bloodsuckers. You… you could be the embodiment of the wolves’ goddess herself."

I lifted my gaze to meet his, his unwavering presence anchoring me. Slowly, he cradled the back of my head, guiding me to face him.

"Let me show you what a mate’s love truly feels like," he purred, his lips claiming mine in a kiss that threatened to unmake me.