The screaming didn't stop when they carried him out of the Great Hall. It echoed down the long corridors of the pack house, all the way to the healer's ward.
I didn't follow them immediately. I gave them thirty minutes. That was enough time for the initial chaos to settle into a grim reality. I stood in my guest room, listening to the frantic footsteps fading away. Then, I picked up my thick manila folder, rested my free hand gently over my flat stomach to shield my pup, and walked downstairs to the clinic.
The ward smelled like burnt flesh, vomit, and pure panic.
Desmond lay on the main sterile bed under bright, harsh lights. His skin was a nasty shade of gray. Dark, angry purple veins pulsed along his neck and jawline where the wolfsbane was literally burning his insides. He was sweating profusely, his chest heaving as he fought for every breath.
"Do something!" Seraphina shrieked.
She was standing in the far corner of the room, pressing a silk handkerchief over her nose. She refused to get anywhere near the bed. She wouldn't even look at the blood or the sick bowl on the floor."He's dying! Fix him! Give him an antidote!"
Dr. Whitfield ignored her. He was frantically pushing an IV needle into Desmond's arm. Three pack elders stood near the door. They watched Seraphina with cold, hard eyes. A Luna was supposed to be the pack's mother. She was supposed to be steady in a crisis, holding her Alpha's hand, projecting strength and calm. Instead, Seraphina looked like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum because her favorite toy was broken.
I stepped into the room. My footsteps were quiet, but the elders noticed me immediately. They quickly parted ways to let me through, their faces tight with shame.
"Harper!" Seraphina gasped, her eyes going wide."Tell them to fix him! Tell them what herbs to use! You know this stuff!"
I didn't look at her. I walked straight to the edge of Desmond's bed.
Desmond's eyelids fluttered open. He looked up at me. His breathing was shallow and ragged. For a split second, a flicker of profound relief washed over his pale face. He thought I was there to save him. He thought I was there to manage the crisis, fix his mistakes, and wipe his forehead, just like I had for the last three years.
I didn't reach for his hand. I didn't check his vitals.
I opened my folder. I pulled out a thick stack of papers and dropped them directly onto his chest.
"What... is this?" Desmond rasped. His voice sounded like crushed glass.
"The formal rejection paperwork," I said. My voice was perfectly flat. Completely empty."And the severance agreement. It outlines the division of assets. Five million dollars, transferred from the pack accounts, as compensation for my three years of uncredited labor as your substitute Luna."
Desmond stared at me. His chest heaved with a wet, rattling sound."I'm... dying... and you..."
"You're not dying," I said calmly."Dr. Whitfield gave you the neutralizer. You will be in agonizing pain for the next week, and your inner wolf will be severely weakened, but you will survive." I tapped the top of the papers with my index finger."Sign these by tomorrow morning. I want my name off this pack registry before I leave."
Desmond's eyes widened. The Alpha arrogance was completely gone, replaced by a deep, unsettling fear. He finally realized I wasn't playing a game. I wasn't trying to make him jealous. I was simply done. Maren didn't even whimper inside my mind. She just watched him burn.
"Harper, please," Beta Julian whispered from the doorway. He looked exhausted."Not now."
"Now," I said firmly.
Before Julian could argue, the air in the room changed.
It didn't just change. It vanished.
A crushing, heavy pressure slammed into my chest. The temperature in the clinic plummeted. My knees felt weak, but not from grief. It was an instinctual, primal reaction to pure, ancient power.
Behind me, the three elders hit the floor. Their knees slammed into the tiles with a sharp crack. Dr. Whitfield dropped his clipboard and bowed his head, his hands shaking violently. Even Desmond, weak and poisoned, let out a choked gasp as his inner wolf was forced into immediate, painful submission. Seraphina whimpered, sliding down the wall until she was curled in a pathetic ball on the floor.
I turned around slowly.
A man stood in the doorway.
He was tall. Broader and much more muscular than Desmond. He wore a dark, tailored suit that looked incredibly expensive, but he didn't look like a businessman. He looked like a predator squeezed into human clothes. His dark hair was slightly messy, and his golden eyes glowed with an unnerving, predatory light.
A Lycan. Not just any Lycan. The raw, suffocating aura rolling off him meant only one thing: Royalty.
He didn't look at the elders groveling at his feet. He didn't look at the Alpha writhing in the bed. He didn't even glance at Seraphina sobbing in the corner.
He looked only at me.
He stepped into the room. The heavy pressure in the air eased just a fraction around me, giving me room to breathe while keeping everyone else pinned down. He stopped inches away from me. I had to tilt my head back to look into his glowing eyes.
He leaned down slightly. His nose brushed past my jawline, hovering right over my unmarked scent gland. I froze. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
He inhaled deeply. A slow, shuddering breath.
"Wild jasmine," he murmured. His voice was a deep, rumbling vibration that sent a shockwave straight down to my toes."And rain."
Desmond let out a weak, angry growl from the bed. His pride was trying to fight the Lycan's aura."Who... who are you? Get away from her."
The Lycan didn't even turn his head. He kept his golden eyes locked on mine. A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.
"I am Prince River Lewis," he said softly, though the whole room heard him perfectly."And I go exactly where I please."
He reached up. His large, warm hand gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. The casual intimacy of the touch made Desmond choke on another futile growl.
"Hello, Harper," River whispered. His eyes softened, filled with an emotion so deep and intense it made my breath catch.
I didn't know him. I had never seen this man in my life. But deep inside my mind, Maren didn't bare her teeth. She didn't growl or tell me to run.
Instead, for the first time since my rejection, my inner wolf let out a soft, desperate purr.
