Between Duty and Desire

Vane pinned Laila against the wooden door, his large hands gripping the Beta's waist with a force that bordered on raw possessiveness.

Their kiss was a battlefield — no tenderness, just an urgent need to prove he was still the master of his own senses.

Laila let out a moan of triumph, her nails digging into the Alpha's broad shoulders, goading the beast inside him.

For her, this fire was proof the throne was hers.

For Vane, it was a necessary distraction.

Every time Lyra's face surfaced in his mind — those stubborn, human eyes — he drove harder into Laila, inhaling her heavy musk to erase the persistent trail of wildflowers that seemed branded into his soul.

It was a fierce, quick surrender, devoid of the connection a true bond would demand.

When he finally pulled away, Fenris's golden eyes still burned with a dangerous dissatisfaction, as if the wolf were disgusted by the charade.

Laila composed herself, smoothing her clothes with a victorious smile, running her fingers through her hair.

Triumph glittered in her eyes — she believed she'd won the battle for the Alpha's heart.

"The solstice, Vane," she whispered, her voice heavy with a promise he wasn't sure he wanted to keep. "Don't forget. The pack expects a queen worthy of your power."

Vane felt a sudden wave of nausea.

Her touch, which seconds ago had felt like a necessity, now burned like acid.

Fenris's accusatory silence in his mind was deafening.

"Get out." The snarl wasn't just an order — it was a thunderclap that made the windowpanes rattle.

Laila froze, her smile dying instantly.

She tried to touch his arm, one last attempt to maintain control.

"Vane, darling, I just—"

"I SAID GET OUT!" He roared, whipping around with savage fury. His eyes were no longer human — they were Fenris's pure, hungry gold. "Now, before I lose what's left of my patience!"

Startled by the intensity of Fenris's rejection, Laila stumbled back a step, the mask of seduction falling away to reveal fear.

She hurried out, slamming the door behind her, leaving nothing but the suffocating scent of her ambition.

Vane staggered to the desk, bracing his weight on clenched fists.

He hated what he'd just done, hated Laila's satisfaction, and above all, hated how that insolent servant's scent seemed to seep through every crack in his study.

He walked to the window and threw it open, letting the freezing night air pour in.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles went white.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass.

The icy draft wasn't enough to cool the fire racing through his veins — a fire that Laila, with all her effort and skill, hadn't managed to extinguish.

"What's happening to me?" he growled into the void, his voice cracking for the first time.

He rebuked himself mentally.

He'd just had the most desired female in the pack in his arms — a pureblooded Beta — and all he could think about were the stubborn green eyes of a servant who didn't even have a wolf.

He felt a stab of guilt for having forced Fenris to retreat, locking the beast in the depths of his mind so he could touch Laila without the wolf howling in protest.

Fenris was in a punishing silence.

A silence that hurt worse than any snarl.

The wolf knew that what had just happened in the study was a betrayal of what fate had in store.

Vane glanced one last time at the solitary moon.

"At the solstice, I put an end to this," he promised himself, though his heart beat in a rhythm that belied his words. "I make Laila official. And Sangue Negro will be stronger."

He slammed the window shut, but the scent of wildflowers — her scent — seemed to laugh at him, soaked into every crack of that room, into every beat of his heart.

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