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RYTHAN BLACKTHORNE — (Wolf: Razhan) We stepped out of Celine's room and pulled the door shut behind us. Zithan walked beside me in complete silence. Which was somehow more terrifying than anything I could have said. I could feel Sylvan — his wolf — brewing in quiet fury beneath that calm exterior. But Zithan being Zithan was holding him in check with that iron composure I had spent twenty eight years failing to replicate. When Zithan went quiet like this, really quiet — it meant someone was about to have a very bad day. Today that someone was Kythan. My own anger wasn't far behind either. How could someone look at a woman like Celine and choose those particular words? How could he sit across from her, deliver them in that flat clinical voice, and just — walk away? She was our mate. She deserved better. And the thing was, none of us had missed it. Not from the very first moment she arrived. All three of us had felt it before we fully understood what it was. Not the mate bond
CELINE The moment I stepped into my room I fell onto the bed and let myself break. My shoulders shook violently. No matter how many times I reminded myself that I had heard those words before ‘wolfless, unattractive’ they kept replaying on a loop. Kythan's voice delivered them with such cold clinical detachment, like he was stating facts rather than detonating grenades. I cried harder than I expected to. Harder than I wanted to. I had genuinely believed his coldness was simply unfamiliarity — that with time, with proximity, something would soften. That he would come around the way people did when they stopped being strangers. Right now I hate him. Slowly, completely, with everything I had. Knock. Knock. I dragged my tear-filled gaze to the door and straightened slightly. "Come in, Father." My voice came out fractured and small. The door opened slowly, and it wasn't my father. Queen Uria stepped inside, her ice blue eyes finding me immediately, and the expression that cross
CELINE I stood in front of the mirror for the tenth time, smoothing the skirt of the blue floral gown I had worn, and told myself to breathe. It wasn't working. The anxiety crawling across my skin refused to be reasoned with. In approximately five minutes I was going to walk downstairs and sit across from my new family, my three mates, my father's new wife. What if she resented my father for having a daughter she hadn't known about? What if she looked at me and saw a problem? And then there was the other thought. The one I kept pushing away and kept coming back to regardless. Kythan. The Ice blue eyes. Cold stare. Would he even come down? Would he sit at the same table and look straight through me the way he always did? I pressed my hand flat against my sternum, exhaled slowly, and walked out of the purple room. I gripped the railing as I made my way downstairs, my steps slow and deliberate, each one bringing me closer to something I wasn't entirely sure I was ready for. T
CELINE After crying my eyes out, my father didn't ask me to explain anything — but I explained everything anyway. How much I had endured. How I had gotten Doland into that situation. Every ugly detail I had been carrying alone for longer than I could properly count. He didn't judge me. Didn't scold me. Just listened with that quiet, patient attention that I had forgotten he was capable of, and when I was done he pulled me close and whispered against my hair. "I'm proud of you, my girl. I'm glad you finally fought back." He led me to a different room after that. The room was large and beautifully decorated, unmistakably feminine in its style. My favorite paintings hung on the walls. The curtains, the bedding, the throw cushions — everything was purple. My favorite colour. Every tiny detail is exactly right. He had prepared this room before I even called him. My throat tightened as I looked around it. He had never stopped waiting for me to come home. Not once. He gently tucked m
CELINE The silence was worse than anything he could have said. My father stood at the bottom of the stairs, his gaze moving slowly, deliberately between me and Rythan — like he was giving himself time to process something his brain was actively refusing to accept. Heavenly Goddess, please Just open the floor and swallow me whole right now. He didn't speak. Didn't shout. Didn't move. Just stood there with that look on his face — the kind of quiet fury that was somehow ten times more terrifying than screaming. This was not the reunion I had imagined on that flight. Not even close. In my head it had been warm. Emotional. He would open the door and see me and something would click back into place between us after all these years of silence. Maybe he would hug me. Maybe I would cry. Maybe it would feel like coming home. Instead he had walked in on his daughter with her shorts around her thighs and a man's hand between her legs on his staircase. Rythan stood beside me, leaning agai
CELINE I rushed downstairs with my bag clutched against my side, eyes glued to my phone as I tried to power it back on. My mind was still clouded, thick with everything that had happened in that room. Everything Alpha Zithan had done to me with his hands and his mouth and that devastating patience of his. The memory kept surfacing in warm vivid flashes that I was doing a terrible job of suppressing. A knowing smile pulled at my lips before I could stop it. I finally knew what it felt like. To be wanted, to be desired. To be handled like something precious and then taken apart so thoroughly that the only coherent sound you could produce was his name. Muize had always made it look like sex was something rough and careless and over quickly. Alpha Zithan had dismantled that belief completely in one single night. Goddess. I was wet again just thinking about it. I shook my head and focused on the stairs. My Father first, then everything else after. I was almost at the bottom when I







