166

166
I had been assured that Kenzo would recover within a day.

The wound Hadrian inflicted was deep, deliberately so, but it wasn’t meant to be fatal—just enough to take him out of the fight. A wound like that would have been a death sentence for an ordinary wolf, but Kenzo wasn’t just any wolf. He was a strong Alpha, and his accelerated healing had already begun the moment his flesh was torn.

Even in defeat, Kenzo remained in his position. Hadrian had no interest in leading the werewolves, and it was doubtful they would have sworn full allegiance to him anyway. That didn’t make things any easier for Kenzo, though. His ambitions of ruling as king would have to be put on hold for now.

Still, the Blue Moon Pack was destined to rule both the North and South, and by default, that made Kenzo the leader of all werewolves.

For now, the truth about Alpha Cassius Marwood’s death—how he had fallen to some unknown creature—was kept a closely guarded secret. Only a handful of us knew: Hadrian, Gareth, Beta Ronan, and me. Until we had complete control of the territory, revealing that information would have only led to unnecessary panic. If word got out that a rogue monster was still lurking in the area, it could send the packs spiraling into chaos. Stability was our priority.

Time was working against us. There were countless bodies to bury, and in mere hours, we had to establish order. Fortunately, the wolves from the Southern Moon Pack—those who had surrendered or willingly defected—proved useful in securing key locations and spreading the word about the shift in leadership. For reasons I didn’t fully understand, they obeyed me without hesitation. Perhaps it was because they knew my bloodline. I was the daughter of Alpha Cassius and Alpha Calliope, a lineage they respected.

It was just a shame that I had to storm into my father’s pack with an army, fight them into submission, and leave them no choice but to acknowledge my existence.

Their unexpected deference to me put me in the center of dealing with the South’s crisis. And with that, I found myself seated among the Blue Moon Pack’s leadership.

It was an awkward, irritating experience.

Ronan and Alistair avoided my gaze the entire time. I noticed they were more comfortable conversing with Hadrian—the same man who had just beaten their Alpha senseless—than speaking a single word to me. Their silence was infuriating.

The moment the meeting ended, I intercepted Ronan before he could leave.

"You knew, didn’t you?" I demanded, my glare sharp.

He sighed, finally meeting my eyes. "Yes… but I was against deceiving you."

"And yet, you did it anyway," I hissed.

"Kenzo is my Alpha."

"How convenient," I scoffed. "Did the whole pack know I wasn’t his mate?"

"Only the inner circle," he admitted reluctantly. "It was never made public. After Jade—Jetta’s sister—died, their bond had barely formed. Kenzo was young, forced to take up the Alpha mantle overnight. He blamed himself for failing to protect his mate."

"And how does that justify manipulating me?!" My voice rose, anger seething through me.

"Thalassa, please…" Ronan lowered his head. "He lost his father, then lost the woman who was supposed to be his Luna. When your father offered you to him, at first, he saw you as a key to his revenge. But then… you became something else. A way to fill the void."

"Void, my ass," I snarled. "Do you have any idea what he put me through? He made me believe I was special to him. That I mattered. And worst of all, he made me feel guilty—guilty for not loving him, for not feeling what I was supposed to feel. He convinced me something was wrong with me."

"I’m sorry, Thalassa," Ronan burst out. "I don’t know what else you want me to say!"

"Now? I don’t want you to say anything," I said coldly. "You had one job—to tell your Alpha that his plan was a terrible one. But you didn’t have the guts to do it. Maybe one day, you’ll grow a pair."

With that, I turned on my heel and strode out, leaving Ronan standing there, dumbstruck by my words.

As I stepped into the hallway, I immediately noticed Gareth leaning casually against the wall, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. He had been listening. Every word.

"I like the new you," he remarked, his gaze raking over me.

"You think I’ve changed?" I arched a brow.

"Not physically… though you do look a little thinner. But you’re bolder." He nodded approvingly. "Keep that same fire when you talk to the King. Something tells me you two have a lot to discuss."

Gareth chuckled, clapped me on the shoulder, and walked away.

I watched him go, unsure whether his words were meant as a compliment or a taunt.

Either way, he wasn’t wrong.

Hadrian and I were about to have the conversation. The one I had been dreading. The one that would force me to rip open old wounds I wasn’t sure had ever truly healed.

At the far end of the corridor, Hadrian stood speaking with Icarus and two Royal Army soldiers. His posture was relaxed, exuding power and confidence—an allure that was impossible to ignore. There was something devastatingly magnetic about him, a darkness in his presence that made him even more dangerous.

I couldn’t help but stare as I walked toward him, completely transfixed.

Then, as if sensing my gaze, Hadrian turned to look at me.

My breath hitched.

I gasped, nearly tripping over my own feet, but quickly caught myself. When I looked up again, I found his expression had shifted.

And I wasn’t sure how to interpret it.

His eyes lit up, warmth spilling into his gaze as if my mere presence eased something deep within him. His features softened, his entire demeanor shifting as I approached. But while he looked at peace, I felt the opposite—tension coiled inside me, uncertainty gnawing at the edges of my resolve. What would come of this conversation? How would it end?

Before I could dwell on my doubts, Hadrian reached for me, his hand tugging me closer with quiet urgency. I managed a nervous smile, though my heart pounded in my chest. Without a word, he dismissed those around us and led me down a corridor that opened into a breathtaking orangery.

Sunlight poured through massive glass panes, illuminating the room in a golden embrace. Lush greenery spilled from every corner, vines climbing high to weave intricate patterns along the windowed walls, while blossoms bloomed in a kaleidoscope of color. At the center, a delicate white table and two matching chairs stood, an intimate oasis amidst the riot of nature. It was, without a doubt, the most romantic setting I had ever stepped into.

Hadrian pulled out a chair for me, his silent invitation impossible to refuse. As I settled in, he stepped away briefly, only to return with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Placing one before me, he poured a deep crimson stream of Pinot Noir, its scent rich and intoxicating.

"You’re doing this on purpose," I accused, narrowing my eyes as my fingers began tapping an anxious rhythm on the table’s surface.

He reached for my hand, stilling my restless movements as he leaned in, his voice like silk against my skin. "I just want you to relax."

A shiver coursed through me at his nearness, a thrill running down my spine. I exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze as I lifted the glass and drank until not a drop remained.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with something dark and enticing. He refilled my glass, then took his seat across from me.

I placed the glass down with a quiet clink and met his eyes. "This won’t work," I stated with more confidence than I felt. "I don’t get drunk as easily as before, and even if I did, wine won’t erase what happened. I’m still hurt by the way you treated me."

His lips curled into a wry smile. "I never expected it to."

I drew in a breath, pushing forward before I lost my nerve. "And you have no right to hate me for being with Kenzo."

His expression didn’t shift. "I could never hate you."

I blinked, caught off guard by the quiet conviction in his voice. "That’s not what I—" I stopped, the weight of his words sinking in. "Why?"

"Because you had every reason to choose him," he admitted, swirling the wine in his glass as if the motion steadied him.

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands. "I didn’t do it to hurt you," I confessed. "I did it because I didn’t want to suffer."

His jaw tensed. "Ouch," he muttered, wincing. "That actually hurts."

I shrugged. "It’s the truth."

Hadrian exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to the table. "I know I hurt you… more than I can ever make up for. I—"

"You were a complete asshole," I cut in.

He smirked faintly. "Yeah… But I had my reasons. I needed Selene out of our lives. She’s been obsessed with me for decades, and I thought if I played along, if I gave her just enough attention, she’d slip up and reveal the truth. But I was wrong." His hands clenched into fists, his frustration palpable.

"You shut me out," I accused, my voice rising with pent-up emotion. "I tried to help you, Hadrian. Varen and I risked everything to decode those notes, to prove that Selene was behind it all."

His eyes darkened. "You don’t understand," he said, his voice low. "When you brought me those notes, I was terrified." He leaned forward, gripping my hands. "Gareth discovered that Selene had allies—spies inside the palace. I didn’t know who to trust, how to protect you. The only solution I saw was to keep you as far from me as possible."

"You should have told me," I snapped. "I would have understood!"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I thought the less you knew, the safer you’d be… but I never expected to lose you because of it." His voice cracked, raw with regret, and my heart ached at the sound.

"You have no idea what seeing you kiss her did to me," I whispered, barely able to force the words out.

Hadrian pushed back his chair and dropped to his knees before me. His hands reached for mine, his grip firm, desperate. "I will regret those choices for eternity," he vowed. "But if you let me, I will spend every day making it up to you."

A thousand emotions surged inside me, overwhelming in their intensity. Maybe I was foolish, maybe I was too willing to believe him. But I loved him. And as I gazed into his eyes, I saw no deceit, no manipulation—only the raw, desperate sincerity of a man who had torn down every wall for me.

Tears burned behind my eyes as I cupped his face, trying to smile through the storm of emotions. Then, without hesitation, I leaned down, brushing my lips against his.

"I love you," I breathed against his mouth, a heartbeat before he took over, his kiss devouring me whole.

He rose to his feet without breaking our embrace, pulling me into him. I could feel his need, his hunger—not just for my body, but for me. The real me. He didn’t ask for my blood. He didn’t demand anything but my presence. And that made me love him even more.

His hands traced slow, reverent paths along my back as his kiss deepened, stealing the very breath from my lungs. Heat coiled low in my stomach, desire igniting between us, a force neither of us could deny.

"Sorry to interrupt!"

Gareth’s voice shattered the moment, hitting with the force of a hurricane.

Hadrian tore his lips from mine, his expression darkening as he turned toward the intrusion. The glare he sent Gareth’s way was lethal, promising consequences. But Gareth’s grim demeanor remained unchanged.

His next words sent an icy chill through the air.

"The army of degenerates has besieged Crimsonville."