12
The halls of Ashmoor Castle had never felt so cold.
Rylan moved like a shadow through the west wing, jaw clenched tight, steps sharp on marble floors. His wolf was pacing beneath his skin—restless, protective, furious.
He’d sat in that council room for over an hour.
Listening.
Calculating.
Nobles he’d fought beside. Families his father once trusted. They spoke as if Lyra were an inconvenience. A loose thread to be trimmed.
They didn’t say it outright, of course.
They called it “preserving the line.”
“Clarifying succession.”
“Ensuring the kingdom’s stability.”
But Rylan knew what they meant.
Evanna was waiting when he entered the guest room, her satchel already on the bed.
She didn’t even look at him.
“You heard,” she said flatly.
“I did.”
“And?”
He closed the door behind him. “They think she’s a risk. That you’re a threat. That if I keep you here, I’m opening the gates to civil unrest.”
She scoffed. “Then say the word and we’ll be gone.”
“No.”
Evanna’s eyes flashed, a mix of fear and fury. “Rylan—”
“No,” he said again, quieter this time, but firm. “I will not let them run you out of this place. I invited you here. You’re mine to protect.”
Evanna stepped forward, chin lifted. “Then protect us. Because right now, all I see are wolves sharpening their teeth.”
“I’m trying,” he growled. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I enjoy watching people I once trusted turn their backs the moment I show weakness?”
Her voice cracked. “Lyra isn’t your weakness.”
“I know that,” he snapped. “She’s the only thing keeping me sane.”
Silence rang out between them, sharp as glass.
He took a step closer. Then another.
“I’ve spent my life choosing duty. Crown. Kingdom. I never chose myself. Until you.”
Evanna swallowed hard. “Then choose us again. Not just behind closed doors. Out there. Where it matters.”
Rylan studied her—every freckle, every scar time had softened but not erased. The woman who left without a word. The woman who raised his daughter with fire in her spine and the moon in her eyes.
The woman he never stopped loving.
“I will,” he said. “I’ll call a formal council. Tomorrow at dawn. I’ll make it known to all of them that Lyra is mine. And that you are not a threat, but my mate.”
Evanna’s breath caught.
“I don’t care if it splits the court,” he continued. “If they challenge me, let them. I’ve fought worse battles. But I will not hide you. Or her.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. “And what if they try to take her anyway?”
“Then they’ll face the wrath of the Alpha King.”
Rylan reached for her hand, this time without hesitation.
And this time… she didn’t pull away.
That night, he stood in Lyra’s doorway and watched her sleep—one arm tucked under her cheek, the other clutching her fox like a sword.
She looked so peaceful.
So unaware of how many people wanted to erase her.
He would not let them.
Because she wasn’t just his heir.