Chapter 8
Justin POV
The morning sun beat down on the marble steps outside the Royal Study, but it did nothing to warm the sudden chill in my blood. I had been standing in front of the heavy oak doors for an hour. My pristine military uniform felt suffocating, and my Inner Wolf paced restlessly, agitated by the oppressive scent leaking through the crack in the doors.
It was the Alpha King's signature amber and ambergris, but it was thick with an undeniable, suffocating fury.
I adjusted my collar, my jaw tight. I was the kingdom's rising star. Gamma Brenna and I had secured the border, and the King himself had issued the Royal Decree allowing her to be my Co-Luna. I was supposed to be welcomed as a hero today to solidify the paperwork. Why was I being made to wait like a commoner?
Finally, the doors clicked open. Head Beta Alton Marsh stepped out, his face set in a flawless, professional smile. His faint ink scent gave nothing away.
"Alpha Justin," Alton said smoothly, offering a polite nod. "His Majesty is overwhelmed with urgent state matters this morning. He asks that you return on another day."
My brow furrowed. "Another day? Beta Alton, I was summoned. Did the Bloodfang Pack do something to offend the Crown?"
Alton's smile didn't waver, though his weak Inner Wolf remained perfectly guarded. "His Majesty's moods are tied to the kingdom's burdens, Alpha. Have a safe journey home."
He stepped back and shut the heavy doors in my face. My Alpha ego flared with hot, stinging humiliation. I spun on my heel and marched down the corridors, my mind racing. The King's attitude had changed overnight. Why?
By the time I reached the Royal Pack House Gates to retrieve my horse, my frustration was boiling over. I had spent all of yesterday wrapped in Brenna's warm, passionate embrace, completely disconnected from the Pack's trivial matters.
As I grabbed my reins, my enhanced hearing caught the low murmurs of two Royal Guards standing near the iron gates.
"Did you see the Bloodfang Luna yesterday?" one whispered. "Stood in the blazing sun for hours before the King finally let her in."
"Yeah," the other muttered. "Arthur Crawford's daughter. Guess she still has some pull with the Crown."
I froze. The blood roared in my ears.
*Isla.*
My Inner Wolf snarled, piecing it all together. That jealous, petty Omega! While I was celebrating my hard-earned victories with Brenna, Isla had slinked off to the palace. She had used her dead father's name to cry to the Alpha King, begging him to revoke my Royal Decree! That was why the King was furious with me. She had poisoned his mind.
"You manipulative bitch," I hissed under my breath. I vaulted onto my horse and spurred it into a furious gallop toward the Bloodfang estate.
I didn't bother with the front doors when I arrived. I stormed straight through the corridors and violently kicked open the door to The Luna's Suite.
The heavy oak door slammed against the wall. The room instantly filled with my furious scent—my natural cologne heavily mixed with the sharp, spicy scent of Brenna that still clung to my skin.
"Isla!" I roared, letting a wave of my Alpha's Command crash into the room.
Effa Rose, Isla's pathetic wolfless maid, shrieked. She threw herself in front of Isla, her entire body trembling violently under the crushing weight of my aura, but she refused to move.
Isla sat by the window, bathed in the morning light. She didn't flinch. She didn't cower. She just looked at me with those icy blue eyes, her face a mask of absolute, chilling indifference.
"Step aside, Effa," Isla commanded, her voice perfectly steady.
"M-My Lady, no!" Effa sobbed, terrified I was going to strike her.
"I said, step aside," Isla repeated. Effa reluctantly moved, wiping her tears.
I marched forward, my eyes glowing red with Alpha fury. "You went to the King," I spat, pointing a finger at her. "You couldn't handle the truth, so you ran to the palace to cry about your dead father and beg the King to ruin my decree!"
Isla looked at my pointing finger, then up at my face. "I did not ask the King to revoke your decree, Justin."
"Liar!" I snarled, slamming my fist onto the mahogany table. "You are so incredibly fake, Isla. You act like this perfect, submissive Luna, but the second my back is turned, you scheme to destroy my happiness. You will never be half the woman Brenna is. She fights her enemies face-to-face. You just stab me in the back!"
I waited for her to break. I waited for the tears, the desperate apologies, the pathetic pleas for my love.
Instead, the fragile, lingering thread of our mate-bond suddenly went completely dead. She severed her end of the emotional connection so thoroughly it felt like a door slamming shut in my soul.
She just sat there, looking at me as if I were a stranger.
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