Chapter 63
(Siena’s POV)
The morning of the third competition dawns with a quiet tension that settles deep in my bones.
The air feels charged, heavier than usual, carrying the weight of unspoken things. I try to shake it off as I step out onto Windhowl’s training grounds, but the unease lingers, prickling at the edges of my awareness.
Rairity already waiting for me by the strategy table, her arms crossed, eyes sharp and assessing. “You’re up early,” she remarks, though her tone is more curious than surprised.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit, scanning the grounds where my warriors are making their final preparations.
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The third competition is the most grueling–an endurance trial designed to push both the body and mind to their limits. Windhowl is ready. I’ve made sure of that. But no amount of preparation can quiet the storm that’s been brewing inside me.
“Have you heard?” Rairity voice lowers, a conspiratorial edge creeping in.
I glance at her, brow lifting. “What now?”
Her lips press together, a mixture of concern and intrigue dancing in her eyes. “Lila’s not here.”
I freeze.
“What?”
“She’s not by Raiden’s side.” Rairity gaze flits across the grounds, confirming what I hadn’t noticed until now. The usual spectacle of Lila’s presence–cloying, overbearing, impossible to ignore–is conspicuously absent.
My heart gives a traitorous lurch, and I curse the flicker of hope that sparks in my chest. I shouldn’t care.
I don’t care.
“Rumor is…” Rairity hesitates, glancing around before leaning in closer. “Raiden requested her temporary withdrawal from competition activities.”
The words hit me harder than they should. I keep my expression neutral, refusing to let my emotions show, but my pulse quickens, and I feel the bond stir–faint, but undeniable.
I don’t reach for it. I won’t.
“And?” I ask, my tone cool, detached.
Rairity eyes sharpen, reading me too easily. “And… people are talking. They’re saying something happened between them last night.”
“Something?” I can’t keep the question from slipping out.
Rairity lips press into a thin line. “Raiden was drunk. In his study. And whatever happened with Lila… well, he’s not pleased
about it.”
Raiden. Drunk. With Lila.
I picture them together in his study–that dark, book–lined room with the leather chairs that smell like him. My fingers tingle with an odd numbness.
Did she touch his face the way I’ve sometimes imagined?
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Chapter 63
Did she run her hands through that dark hair?
Stop it, Siena. This isn’t helping.
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“Not pleased about it,” I repeat, my voice sounding distant even to my own cars. What does that mean? Did he reject her? Did something happen that he regrets?
The possibilities swirl like autumn leaves caught in a vicious wind.
I shouldn’t ask for details. I shouldn’t want to know. I have no claim on him–he’s made that perfectly clear with his cold stares and cutting remarks. Yet here I am, fighting the urge to grab Rairity’s shoulders and demand she tell me everything.
Instead, I offer a casual shrug that feels like moving mountains. “Sounds like typical Raiden drama.
But it’s not typical. Not to me. The thought of his hands on her sends a sharp pain through my chest. I’ve become pathetic, haven’t I? Pining after a man who looks at me like I’m some irritating puzzle he can’t solve–or worse, doesn’t want to.
Rairity’s eyes haven’t left my face. She sees too much. Always has. I turn away, busying myself with straightening items on the nearby table that don’t need straightening.
“It’s not my business,” I add, the words tasting like lies.
Because it feels like my business. Because despite everything–despite all reason and self–preservation–I keep finding myself drawn to him like a moth to flame, knowing full well I’ll likely burn.
Because when he looks at me, really looks at me, something electric passes between us that makes me forget why I should
stay away.
But he was with Lila last night. And he’s “not pleased about it.”
I need to remember my place here. Remember why I came.
Remember that whatever game Raiden is playing, I can’t afford to be a piece on his board.
Yet even as I think it, I know it’s too late.
I’m already in play.
The words shouldn’t matter. Our divorce is imminent, our bond practically severed. But despite everything, I feel the faintest pulse from what remains of that connection–a flicker of confusion, suspicion… and something else I can’t quite
name.
My wolf stirs, hopeful, but I shove her back, reminding myself that hope is a dangerous thing.
“It’s not our concern,” I mutter, more to myself than to Rairity.
But my traitorous mind won’t let it go.
I find myself reaching–just for a moment–through the fragile threads of our bond. And what I encounter shocks me. There’s no cold detachment, no wall of indifference. Instead, there’s… uncertainty.
A knot tightens in my throat.
What’s happeneign to me? To him?
“Forget it,” I say, forcing the connection closed, severing the brief glimpse of his turmoil. “It doesn’t change anything.”
Rairity watches me carefully, her expression unreadable, but she doesn’t press.
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Chapter 68
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We move through the final preparations, focusing on the task at hand. I force myself to stay rooted in the present, to push thoughts of Raiden and whatever mess he’s tangled in with Lila out of my mind.
Windhowl needs me. And I won’t let them down.
I am their Alpha and I intend to act as such
By the time the opening ceremony begins, I’ve managed to bury the emotions simmering beneath the surface.
I stand tall among my pack, the weight of leadership settling comfortably on my shoulders. The other packs are gathered, their leaders flanking Raiden as he takes his place at the head of the assembly.
I don’t look at him.
Not at first.
But I feel his presence like a shadow at my back–familiar, unwelcome, and impossible to ignore. And then, just as the ceremony begins, I feel it again. The bond, weak and frayed as it is, pulses faintly, drawing my attention to him.
My resolve weakens for a fraction of a second, and when I finally allow myself to glance his way, my breath catches.
Raiden’s eyes are already on me.
Midnight dark, filled with something I can’t decipher.
But there’s a weight there–a heaviness that wasn’t there before.
What have you done? Is this bond so easily severed Raiden?
Before I can look away, he moves.
He strides across the distance between us with purpose, his expression unreadable.
My heart pounds harder with every step he takes, but I force myself to remain still, to meet his gaze without flinching.
“Siena,” he says, his voice lower than usual, rough around the edges. “I need a word.”
I should refuse.
He’s broken his scared oath to me. He deserves no mercy.
I should walk away. But something in his tone–something raw and unguarded–keeps me rooted to the spot.
“Fine,” I reply, my voice cool, controlled. I follow him away from the crowd, toward a secluded alcove where the noise of the ceremony fades to a distant murmur. With every step I know the subjects of our kingdom are watching.
Always watching.
The silence between us stretches taut, thick with unspoken words. I refuse to be the first to break it.
“I need to ask you something,” he says finally, and there’s… uncertainty in his tone. Raiden doesn’t do uncertainty.
I fold my arms, keeping my posture guarded. “What is it?”
For a moment, I think he might back down. But then he speaks, and the words stun me into silence.
“Have you ever felt that Lila was… not what she seems?”
I blink, not sure I heard him correctly. “What?”
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Chapter 63
What game are you playing?
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“You heard me.” His eyes are darker now, the turmoil swirling beneath the surface more evident than he’d like. “Have you ever… suspected something about her?”
Years. Years of dismissing me, of refusing to listen when I tried to warn him. And now–now–he’s asking?
Anger rises like a tide, but I swallow it down, keeping my expression carefully neutral.
“I’ve always sensed something false about her,” I admit quietly. “But you never wanted to hear it.”
I see something flicker in his eyes. Recognition. Maybe even regret. But it’s gone almost as quickly as it appears, replaced by the familiar wall of indifference he always hides behind.
“This doesn’t change anything between us,” he says quickly, as though he’s reminding himself rather than me. His words are clipped, too fast, too defensive.
The unnecessary clarification says more than he realizes.
He’s thought about it.
About us.
About what might have been.
But it doesn’t matter. It never did.
“Of course,” I reply evenly, keeping my voice steady despite the ache forming in my chest. “I never expected otherwise.”
And I didn’t. Not really.
But the pain still slices through me, sharp and unforgiving.
Raiden’s gaze lingers on me for a moment longer, something unreadable flickering in the depths of his eyes. Then, he steps back, the distance between us growing once more.
“Good luck in the competition,” he murmurs, his tone softer than it should be.
I nod, but I don’t respond.
I watch as he turns and walks away, leaving me standing in the quiet, alone with the echoes of words that mean nothing.
My heart pounds painfully in my chest, but I push it down, burying the hurt where it can’t touch me.
This doesn’t change anything.
Our arrangement ends as planned.
Anc
ith my
AD
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