Rhea pov :
For the first thirty days, Alaric contact with me was entirely punitive.
During the day, I was the flawless, untouchable Luna of his court, moving through the stone corridors with my spine straight and my son heavily guarded. But at night, the heavy iron latch on my chamber door would lift, and I became his prisoner.
Every single visit was dressed up as a calculated humiliation. Alaric came to my bed not as a mate, but as a warlord claiming a spoil of war. He was rough, silent, and aggressively detached. He absolutely refused to kiss me. If I turned my face toward him, if my breath even brushed against his jaw, he would violently turn my head away. The moment his beast was satisfied, the moment he spilled his seed into me, he was gone. He didn't linger for a single seco
