(Violet’s POV)
“She’s my mate, Elara. We’re married. Whether you want to recognize it or not.”
Ronan’s voice held that familiar weight—measured, regal, persuasive. It was the tone he used at council meetings, the tone that made allies bow their heads and adversaries hesitate.
The same tone I used to believe in.
“And if this news spreads—if people think our union is unstable—it reflects on all of us. On our bloodline. Our pack. Do you really want to see your name dragged through scandal?”
It sounded like Elara crying.
“No—don’t lie. I can see it! Why else would you keep defending her?”
“You don’t love me. You never did. I destroyed my sister for you—I gave you everything, and I still don’t have you.”
The door creaked as I opened it, letting the scene snap into reality like a trap.
