The sun rose over Shadow Blade like any other morning, but for me, it felt different. Not freer, just unfamiliar. Like the walls I had once memorized now echoed with too much history. Too much pain.
I dressed quietly. No uniform. No servant’s robe. Just a simple tunic and boots. My own choice. My own steps.
As I made my way through the packhouse, I noticed fewer stares than yesterday. Or maybe I’d stopped caring enough to see them. I wasn’t the slave boy anymore. I have stopped seeing myself as the rejected mate.
I was a man at a crossroads, and I had already chosen my path.
The guards outside the Alpha’s study looked at me and gave way with a bow. That alone would’ve stunned me days ago. Now, I just nodded in return and knocked on the heavy door.
“Come in,” Alpha Rolland’s voice call
