Chapter 4 — Rhiannon
Who the fuck does he think he is?
I slam the door behind me, nearly breaking the hinges in the process. The guards on duty straighten at my approach, but I wave them off. I need space. Now.
My boots stomp against the stone floor as I storm away from the dungeons. Ethan. Even his name sets my teeth on edge. The absolute nerve of that human. Saying my name like we’re friends. Trying to charm information out of me when I’m the one conducting the interrogation.
Pressing my forehead against the cool stone wall, I let the cold seep in. This isn’t about him. It’s about me. Hardened criminals, enemy pack spies, even rogue Lycans driven half-mad by bloodlust — none of them rattled me like this.
“So, Rhiannon, right?” The memory of his voice uttering my name makes my wolf stir. I growl, shoving her down.
What is wrong with me? I couldn’t even maintain control of the conversation. He kept redirecting, questioning, observing. Those green eyes seeing too much. And that scent. That scent makes my wolf pace beneath my skin.
That’s the reason I haven’t told Xander or Thea about our...
prisoner. I need to understand his pull first. Is it some kind of human trick?
Some sorcery I don’t have a name for? Thea was raised in the Outer Lands too, but she never affected me this way.
She was never this... infuriating. This perplexing.
I roll my shoulders back and smooth my hair. This is ridiculous. I am Commander of the Lycan Guard. I’ve fought in battles that would make that human’s blood freeze in his veins. I will not be undone by some quick-witted man with pretty eyes and a disarming smile.
I can’t delay it any longer. Word travels fast in Kortan. Between the dungeon guards and Olcan’s assistants who examined his wounds, half the compound probably knows we’re holding a human already.
I check my watch. I’m not too late, but close. The longer I wait, the worse it gets. If Xander hears about Ethan from someone else first, I’ll be lucky to keep my rank. Time to get this over with.
My wolf throws herself against the idea of others deciding Ethan’s fate.
He’s not ours to keep.
The oak doors give way under my hands as I step into the courtyard. Polished marble stretches beyond my boots, torchlight glowing on its surface in uneven stripes. The bright scent of beeswax and pine from the fresh torches cut through the sweet rot of perfumed oils.
The sound of feminine laughter echoes off the vaulted stone ceiling. A small group of ladies huddle together near the grand staircase with its ornate wolf carvings. Their heads are bent close, voices hushed but animated, the soft rustle of their silk garments carrying across the cavernous space.
The moment they spot me, the giggles die. They straighten, exchanging meaningful glances before dispersing in different directions like scattered birds.
They were talking about me. I’ve seen that look a thousand times since Xander chose Thea, wondering how his long-time former mate, unworthy of being his Luna, copes with seeing them together. At times, it’s out of pity. Other times, it’s a twisted satisfaction in witnessing someone else’s downfall.
My chin lifts higher as I pass two guards stationed at the corridor entrance. Their conversation halts mid-sentence. They pound their fists to their chests in salute, but their eyes don’t quite meet mine.
“Commander,” they say in unison.
I nod curtly and keep walking. Three steps later, whispers resume behind me, stabbing at my back. My wolf wants to turn and snarl, to assert dominance. I shove her down.
A pack elder crosses my path, bowing slightly. “Commander.” His eyes find the floor rather than my face. “Fine evening.”
“Indeed,” I reply, but he’s already moving past me, as if prolonged conversation might be contagious.
This is my reality now: respected for my rank, avoided for my shame. The almost-Luna, a cautionary tale they whisper to younger wolves about presuming your place.
I remember how different it used to be. Eyes lighting up when I walked in. Conversations that didn’t die the moment I joined them. Now I move through my own home like a ghost. Present, but separate. The loneliness is its own kind of wound.
This weakness, this self-pity, it’s beneath me. I hail from one of Clarion’s ancient noble bloodlines and serve as the Alpha’s second-in-command, which is still an extraordinary position for a female. My worth isn’t measured by who wants me as a mate, or doesn’t.
I’ve got bigger issues to deal with. Today’s idiotic errand has delayed security preparations for the summit.
I knock on the oak door, pausing to gather myself before facing them.
Thea’s voice drifts through the door. “Come in.”
As I walk in, the scent hits me first. Xander’s familiar pine and leather mingles with Thea’s sweet wildflower aroma. The combination used to make my stomach twist with jealousy. Now it’s just...there. A fact of life, like the changing of seasons.
Thea sits cross-legged on the massive bed, surrounded by photos from the box we brought back from the Outer Lands. The one-eyed stuffed bear sits in her lap, and she clutches a small set of photos in her hands.
Her belly has grown noticeably in recent weeks, a perfect round curve beneath her flowing dress. She lifts her gaze, and a smile lights up her face.
“Rhiannon! Thank you so much for getting my things.” She holds up a faded photograph. “I thought I’d never see these again.”
Lingering by the door feels safer than committing to the room. “Just following orders, Luna.”
“Please, come in.” She motions me to draw closer.
Every instinct screams at me to refuse, but I push myself forward. The room has transformed from when I shared it with Xander. His dark furniture remains, but now Thea’s touches are everywhere.
Flowing gauze curtains in a pale shade of blue have replaced the heavy crimson drapes he used to have.
Heady-scented flowers bloom in crystal vases where my polished weapons once stood.
Poetry books crowd the nightstand, their dog-eared pages and soft leather covers in stark contrast to the rough oak beneath.
I used to keep my war history books in the same place.
Everything in this room is a reminder of what I’ll never have with him.
“Good evening, Luna. I’m looking for Xan— Alpha Xander. Is he available?”
“He’s just getting dressed,” she says. “And you don’t have to be so formal in private. I’m just Thea. You know that.”
“Yes, Lu— Thea. If you’re comfortable with that.”
“I am.” She rubs her swollen belly, lost in the photos. “I’m still not used to this whole Luna business, I guess. I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to it.”
Because it was never meant for you. It should have been me. I swallow the words in my mind before they can escape.
“You will. You’re a wonderful Luna.” I’m not lying.
She nods with appreciation.
“This is my cat Ernie’s paw print.” She holds up the ceramic paw print. “He was an orange tabby.” She presents the bear next. “And my mother gave me this to me before I can remember. I want the baby to have it.”
I nod stiffly, unsure what response she wants from me. She isn’t scheming or posturing, just being genuinely, irritatingly good. Her kindness is almost worse than cruelty. Hatred, I know how to fight. This? I don’t.
“I know this must be strange for you.”
My head snaps up. “I don’t know what you mean, Luna.”
“Everything that’s happened with me and Xander,” her eyes are too sympathetic, too kind, “I understand if it’s uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” I lie. “I’m here to serve you and our Alpha.”
“I admire your loyalty and strength, Rhiannon.” She places her hand over her heart. “I hope someday we might be friends. Real friends.”
Her sincerity lands wrong in my chest. How am I supposed to resent someone this earnest?
The door leading to their bedroom opens, and Xander appears.
He looks good tonight. He’s wearing a loose-fitting dark shirt and black pants.
His dark hair is hanging loose over his shoulders.
I catch a shift in his silver-blue eyes.
There’s surprise in them at first, then that specific softness he reserves for her alone.
“My love,” he says, walking over to her and kissing her on the forehead. “Did they find what you were looking for?”
She smiles up at him, and her white-blonde bangs slide away from her face, pale skin catching the light. Her rounded belly presses against the box of photos in her lap. He stands over her, dark hair falling across his eyes, his whole frame angled toward her like a shield.
“Yes, all of it!” Thea says, her hands moving over the photographs. “I was just going through these old photos. It’s funny how I tried so hard to get out of Creek Falls, and now I miss so much of it.”
“I imagine that’s normal,” Xander responds. “At least you now have your most precious memories, thanks to Rhiannon.”
“It was a team effort, My Lord,” I say. “Speaking of which, there was a... complication with the mission.”
A small furrow forms between his brows. “We can speak in my study—” he starts.
Thea’s smile stops him cold. “No, stay here.” She leaves her items on the bed and stands.
“I need to take a walk around the garden anyway. Dr. Olcan says I should be as active as possible if I want this baby to come, and I do want this baby to come.” As she walks past me, she touches my arm.
“Thank you again, Rhiannon. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, Luna,” I lower my head politely.
As Thea’s footsteps fade down the corridor, an uncomfortable silence settles between us. Xander moves to the window, his back to me, hands clasped behind him.
“You weren’t present when the Luna received her things,” he finally says.
I stiffen, but keep my tone neutral. “Yes, My Lord. I had something urgent to attend to.”
“Urgent.” The way he repeats it makes it clear he doesn’t believe me.
My wolf presses hard against my ribs as I straighten up.
He turns, studying me with those penetrating eyes. “Your outburst at the Council Meeting yesterday was unprofessional, Commander.”