Things were finally settling down in the palace, but the air between Zev and Thalia was colder than ever. They hadn’t spoken since that day in the woods. Zev had reverted to his usual rude self, but this time it was different—he treated Thalia like she was nothing more than a servant, far beneath him. The few glances he cast her way were sharp and filled with disdain, and he spoke to her only when absolutely necessary, barking orders as if she were one of the maids.
The royal family gathered around the long dining table for their evening meal. The room was bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers, but the atmosphere was anything but welcoming. Alpha Damian sat at the head, his posture rigid, eyes scanning his sons. Zev, Orion, and Jarl sat in silence, the clinking of cutlery the only sound
