"Just hand the girl and let’s get done with the business," Arjan said with impatience.
Rion’s eyes snapped to him in an instant. The shift was subtle, but I sensed how he turned serious, his gaze full of authority.
"You don’t get to command , Arjan." His tone was soft, asured, but it carried the faintest ripple of warning, like the growl of a wolf right before the lunge.
Arjan flinched. Barely. But I saw it.
And made flinch too, not because of his reaction, but because it reminded of what a villain Rion was. Arjan was no weakling, I was sure. I’d already marked him as dangerous: tall, scarred, a man who bore himself like one accustod to cruelty.
A rogue, yes, but one who carried himself with the weight of power and intelligence. Yet even he shrank beneath Rion’s gaze.
"Co now, you’re far too serious," Arjan forced a chuckle, as though to mask the slip. "You’ve never shown interest in won before. And now you want Finn’s little prize? I suppose this is just to spite him? I don’t think you’d carry such deep grudges for him when you barely know each other."
Rion’s mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile, it was the faint twist of a blade sliding free from its sheath.
"I don’t think my intentions are yours to weigh." He didn’t raise his voice but his words were sharp. "You should know better than to pry into matters that don’t concern you."
Arjan’s eyes narrowed, his expression flickering between irritation and wariness.
"I ant no harm. It’s just my curiousity speaking. But I tell you, you might find that pride makes poor company when you’ve run out of allies."
"Fortunately for ," Rion drawled, tilting his head slightly, "I’ve never needed allies." His eyes glinted, dark and amused.
When Rion turned back to , the storm in his eyes vanished as though it had never been there.
His features softened, playful now, lips quirking as if this was all a ga and I was his favorite piece.
"So," he drawled, one brow lifting. "What’s your decision, lovely Vivien? Would you rather go back to Finn?"
My breath caught sharply, and I clenched my fists at my sides to steady myself. I hated him.
Gods, I hated him.
I hated his lands, the walls of stone that seed alive with whispers. I hated the bustling Undercity and the shadows that curled like loyal beasts around their Alpha.
But most of all, I hated the way Rion twisted everything, pulling the strings so that the choice I made looped back to him. He had told I had months to decide, had promised ti. And now here he was, cornering , pressing against the wall until my only options were the ones he handed .
I forced myself to et his eyes, even as my chest tightened. "You said I had ti."
His smirk widened. "I did. But ti is a luxury, little wolf. And luxuries are rarely free."
"I should have known," I muttered bitterly.
"Known what?" His eyes glead.
"I thought you were genuine when you said I have months to think about it," I snapped, anger spilling despite myself.
He leaned forward, studying . "Genuine? Vivien, I am many things, but never naive enough to be genuine. I deal in bargains, not fairy tales."
I wanted to scream on his face. To hurl the words I kept swallowing, the curses that burned at the back of my throat. But the weight of his stare pressed them all back down.
Instead, I forced a harsh laugh. "Of course... of course it was my fault for believing your empty words. I was a big fool, and you are an asshole."
"Careful," he murmured.
"Or what?" I spat. "You’ll add to the soil of your flowers?"
The silence that followed was sharp, cutting. Even Arjan shifted, his hand twitching at his side.
But then Rion’s lips curved again, humorless. "You have claws, Vivien. I’ll give you that."
"And I’ll use them if I have to," I said, though my voice trembled.
He chuckled, low, dark, and leaned back once more, as though nothing in this exchange had rattled him.
I hated him more for it.
The tension stretched, too taut, until I could barely breathe. My pulse hamred in my ears, drowning out everything else.
And then, desperate, reckless, I said the words that would change everything.
"Give to him, then."
The smirk on his face faltered, vanishing like smoke.
The shift was imdiate. His eyes darkened, the sea-green swallowed by shadow, his expression carved in stone. The weight of his gaze slamd into so hard my breath hitched.
It was anger, pure and unfiltered—not loud, not explosive, but quiet and cold, an unforgiving intensity that made tremble.
"I’d rather go back," I added, my voice hoarse, forcing the words through clenched teeth.
"Vien," Leika’s voice rippled inside , a warning low and urgent. "Think carefully."
But I didn’t answer her.
I couldn’t.
My mind spun through desperate calculations. The north to Levian lands was a long journey. Long enough, perhaps, to find a chance. To slip past the Arthien wolves, to trick them, to carve out a sliver of freedom.
And if not, if I failed and found myself back in Finn’s grasp, then I would use it to strike.
Finn would punish for sure. He’d get close. Too close, drunk on his claim, on his need to possess. And in that closeness lay opportunity.
I only needed a mont. I already have my wolf. I may not be as strong as the Alphas, but I was stronger than before. I could strike when he least expected it, after I’d made him believe I was weak and harmless. I’d prepare for it.
I could kill him.
I would die afterward, of course. There was no escaping a pack after killing its Alpha. But death didn’t frighten half as much as the thought of living on as soone’s puppet.
My mother deserved vengeance. If I had to carve it from my own blood, so be it.
I lifted my chin, forcing my voice through the quake in my chest.
"Yes, you are right. I don’t intend to stay as your mate. I never will."
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