Chapter 36
1042 Words
Morgana had always believed time would work in her favor.
She stood now at the edge of the palace training grounds, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the distant balcony where Astrid had been seen earlier. The bond mark on Caspian’s neck still burned in her mind like an insult she couldn’t scrape away.
Mate.
The word tasted bitter.
For years, years… Caspian had belonged to possibility. To maybes. To the quiet understanding that he hadn’t found his mate yet, and until he did, anything could change.
Anything except how he saw her.
Morgana had grown up in this palace. Trained in its yards. Bled on its stones. She was one of the strongest Lycans of their generation, she was fast, lethal, disciplined. Elders had whispered her name more than once when speaking of future Lunas.
She’d believed them.
She remembered the first time she’d noticed Caspian wasn’t just king-in-waiting, but him. She’d been younger then, fresh from her first successful hunt, flushed with pride. He’d congratulated her, ruffled her hair like she was still a cub.
“You did well,” he’d said, smiling.
That smile had stayed with her for years.
After that, she tried, quietly, carefully. She trained harder than anyone. Took assignments no one else wanted. Guarded his flank without being asked. Learned his routines, his preferences, the way he took his tea, the silence he liked after meetings.
She thought if she proved herself indispensable, he’d eventually see her.
But Caspian never noticed the way her gaze lingered. Never questioned why she was always there. Never read meaning into her loyalty.
Because to him, it wasn’t love.
It was family.
The realization had come slowly, painfully. Every time he thanked her with that same fond smile. Every time he spoke to her easily, openly, without tension. Every time he trusted her, trusted her the way one trusted a younger sister.
And Morgana hated herself for wishing it were different.
When Caspian found his mate, it shattered what little hope she hadn’t admitted she was still carrying.
Astrid arrived quietly. Soft spoken. Smaller than Morgana expected. Beautiful in a way that wasn’t loud or sharp, but steady—like she belonged without trying.
That was what enraged her most.
Astrid hadn’t fought for him.
Hadn’t bled for him.
Hadn’t waited.
She had simply existed and been chosen by fate.
Morgana felt the jealousy coil tight in her chest, ugly and hot. Every smile Caspian gave Astrid felt stolen. Every gentle touch felt undeserved.
She doesn’t belong here, Morgana thought bitterly. She hasn’t earned him.
And yet… Caspian looked at Astrid differently than he had ever looked at anyone.
Not with expectation.
Not with assessment.
With certainty.
That was the final wound.
Morgana turned away from the balcony, fists clenched. She told herself she hated Astrid because she was weak. Because she didn’t understand their world. Because she wasn’t Lycan enough.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
She hated Astrid because Astrid was everything Morgana had never been allowed to become.
The one he chose.
The one he loved.
The one who stood at his side without having to prove she deserved the place.
And Morgana, strong, loyal, relentless Morgan was left with nothing but the role she had always played.
The girl he never looked at.
When it was time for dinner that night, Morgana didn’t sit at the table.
She stood where the shadows gathered near the archway, just beyond the reach of the torchlight, nursing a goblet she hadn’t touched. From here, she could see everything, the long table, the laughter, the way Caspian leaned slightly toward Astrid as if the world narrowed when she was near.
It made something twist in Morgana’s chest.
Astrid laughed softly at something one of the children said, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. Caspian’s niece and nephew were perched beside her now, utterly charmed.
Of course they adore her, Morgana thought bitterly. Everyone does.
She watched Caspian closely. The way his attention never truly left Astrid. The way his hand brushed her chair when he moved past, a silent check in. He didn’t even realize he was doing it.
Morgana clenched her jaw.
She had stood beside him for years, through training injuries, border skirmishes, sleepless council nights. She had learned to read his moods before he spoke. Yet he had never looked at her like that.
Not once.
A ripple of quiet admiration moved through the hall.
“She suits him,” someone murmured.
“Yes. Perfect match.”
The words landed like blows.
Morgana drained her goblet in one swallow and set it aside untouched. The jealousy burned hot now, sharp and ugly, and she hated herself for how small it made her feel.
She had believed, She truly believed that strength mattered most. That loyalty would be enough. She was one of the strongest Lycans in the palace. She could nearly match Caspian stride for stride in battle. She had imagined standing at his side, not behind him.
Instead, she stood in the shadows while Astrid sat in the light.
Her gaze flicked to Astrid again, noting every detail she had dismissed before. The softness. The way she listened more than she spoke. The faint shimmer beneath her skin when she smiled.
She doesn’t belong here, Morgan told herself. She’s not one of us.
And yet… the pack was already adjusting. Already accepting. Wolves didn’t lie about bonds. They felt truth in their bones.
That truth made Morgan’s stomach churn.
A sudden burst of laughter drew her attention back to the table. Astrid was blushing now, the children clearly pleased with themselves. Caspian watched her like she was something fragile and fierce all at once.
Something snapped.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Morgana turned away before anyone could notice the fury on her face. She moved deeper into the palace corridors, the warmth of the hall fading behind her.
This isn’t over, she thought.
She had lost the future she’d imagined but she wasn’t ready to accept it quietly. Not when Astrid had walked in and taken everything without even knowing it.
As Morgana disappeared into the shadows, the laughter from the hall echoed faintly behind her unaware, unguarded.
And that, Morgana decided, would have to change.
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