Chapter 81
Damon
The rogue sat chained to the iron chair, arms draped like he was lounging at a tavern instead of bleeding in a locked interrogation chamber.
He was cocky. Smug. The kind of wolf who mistook survival for power. The guards flanked him
split, one eye swollen, and still–he smiled.
I hated him on principle. But then he spoke.
on
either side, but he barely seemed to notice. His lip was
“You don’t even know what you’ve got, do you?” he said, teeth flashing as he spat blood onto the floor. “She used to scream my name. You think you’re
the first to claim her?”
I didn’t react. Not yet. I stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, every muscle in my body drawn tight. Ronan stood beside me, silent, unreadable.
“She’s good at pretending. Always was,” the rogue continued. “Sweet little whore. Did she tell you? We were meant to be. Fate–marked. I was her first And she threw it all away.”
I felt Zane stir with a warning.
The rogue leaned forward against the chains. “She killed our child.”
Ronan’s jaw twitched. Mine didn’t move, but my knuckles cracked.
“She didn’t want it,” the rogue said. “Said it was a mistake. Said I was a mistake. And now she’s got you–big, bad Lycan King. Doesn’t change what she
is.”
That’s when I stepped forward. The guards moved to intercept, but I raised a hand.
“Clear the room.”
“Your Majesty-”
“Now.”
No one argued. Even Ronan hesitated only a beat before nodding and ushering the others out. The door shut behind them with a heavy click.
The Rogue looked up, amused. “Hit a nerve, did I?”
apsem
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. I crossed the room and stood over him, staring down at the kind of male who thought cruelty was clever.
He grinned wider. “You’re not the first. You won’t be the last. That girl’s been broken since before you even laid eyes on her.”
I crouched low, leveled my voice, and said, “What’s your name?”
He blinked.
“I said what’s your name.”
“…Liam.”
I stood up slowly. My hands were shaking. Then I turned and walked out of the room.
Thirty minutes later, I closed the door to the infirmary room and watched my mate shuffling towards the chairs by the hearth.
She wore a healer’s robe over her recovery clothes, her steps slow, steady, chin lifted despite the lingering bruises along her throat. The mark I’d left on her neck stood out against pale skin.
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Chapter 81
I liked the look of it. The look of her alive and mending.
And asked, “Is it true you were with a man named Liam?”
She flinched like I’d slapped her. “Yes.”
I sat down heavily in the chair beside the hearth, feeling the room tilt. She remained standing.
Her voice was quiet. Measured. Too calm for what she said
next.
My mate stepped forward, slow and doing her best to hide the pain she was in. “I’m not Elena,” she said quietly. “I never was.”
“I know that now,” I said.
Her lips twitched–bitterness, maybe. Or relief. “I should’ve told you sooner. I know that too.”
I said nothing. Not because I was angry. Because I didn’t trust what would come out if I opened my mouth.
She drew a long breath and settled into the chair for what I sensed was a long story.
“My father–Henry–arranged for Elena to be part of the selection. She was his ticket to the council. His prized daughter. But… Elena got pregnant. With Liam’s child.”
I stiffened. So Liam didn’t know that the Elena in the palace wasn’t his ex.
“I found a pregnancy test and assumed it was hers. Liam and I… he pretended to love me, strung me along while he played a cruel joke to impress Elena. The one he actually loved.”
Her voice was too even; in the way I’d seen soldiers get to make it through the worst of things.
“My father couldn’t bear the scandal of pulling her out of this selection due to pregnancy. Or at least that’s what I assume. So I was his only option to not breaking the agreement. Send Lila, the bastard daughter.”
I felt the shape of the truth forming.
“He sent you instead,” I said.
Lila nodded, eyes glistening. “He told me if I didn’t go–if I didn’t take her place–he would cut off my mother’s care. Said she was already dying slowly. This would only make it faster.”
My breath left me in a slow, controlled exhale.
“He gave me her name. Her dresses. Her file. Told me to smile when it was needed and keep my mouth shut when it wasn’t. Pretend to be more polished more charming. Less me.”
-She gave a small, humorless laugh. “And it worked. For a while. I was afraid, but I was good at hiding it. I’d spent my whole life being told to stay small so
Elena could shine.”
My jaw clenched.
“I didn’t lie because I wanted to,” she added, softer now. “I lied because I didn’t know how to push back without losing my moth
I closed the distance slowly. Lila didn’t flinch. She just looked… exhausted.
“You should’ve never been in that position,” I said. “None of it. Not the lie. Not the silence. Not your father’s cruelty.”
She looked down. “It was easier for him. I was the daughter he could discard without anyone noticing.”
My hand reached out, gently lifting her chin. Her eyes met mine again, full of something raw and unguarded.
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Chapter 81
“You’re not disposable,” I said. “And you don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”
A beat passed. “What happens now?”
I exhaled. “Whatever you choose.”
She blinked.
“I’m not going to hold you here. Not with a bond. Not with guilt. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I’ll have your name cleared, your truth made official, your mother cared for–whatever you need.”
Her breath caught.
“But I’ll ask you to stay,” I added, voice low. “Not because you belong to me. But because I want you to.”
When she didn’t walk away immediately, I let myself hope. She didn’t need to answer. Not right away. And I didn’t rush her.
We sat in silence, the space between us thick with everything unsaid–grief, guilt, possibility. The fire had burned down to low embers behind me, casting our shadows across the polished floor. She stared into them, like she was trying to find herself inside the flicker.
My hand twitched on the armrest, wanting to reach for her again–but I held back. This had to be hers choice. All of it.
Zane was calm now. Quieter than I’d felt him in months. Not because he didn’t care–but because he trusted her to decide.
Her fingers curled around the edge of her robe, knuckles white.
“I don’t know what I want yet,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded. “You don’t have to.”
“I need time.”
“I’ll give you as much as you
need.”
Her eyes lifted to mine. Still wary. Still guarded. But not running. That was enough.
She stood slowly. I rose with her, instinct more than ceremony. When she reached the bed, she paused, fingers brushing the blanket.
“I don’t know if I can forgive any of this,” she said. “Not yet.”
My throat tightened. “I’m not asking you to.“–
She gave a small, tired nod, and then–she dismissed me. And I let her.
The door clicked shut behind me like the softest ending. I stood there at her closed door long after, realizing for the first time that I knew her name.
My mate’s name is Lila.
AD
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