The Lycan Prince Ended His Betrothal for Me

I gasped, my lungs pulling in the sharp, pine-scented air. My hands slammed onto the wooden edge of a banquet table, my fingers digging into the white linen. I blinked against the sudden, blinding glare of the bonfire.

Wait. A second ago, I was dying.

My mind violently pulled me back to the dark. The damp stone of the Silvercrest cellar pressing into my back. The metallic, bitter taste of wolfsbane on my tongue. The agonizing stillness of my poisoned blood. And above all, the cold, disgusted look in Lycan Prince Logan Bennett's eyes as he turned his back on my broken body and walked away.

But now... music thumped in my ears. Wolves laughed and danced under the string lights. A low, powerful growl rumbled in my chest. I froze. My inner wolf. She wasn't starved. She wasn't silenced. She was awake, whole, and burning with a fierce, wild life I hadn't felt in years.

I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of my heart. I was back. I was reborn on the exact night of the Silvercrest Come of Age Ceremony. The night my nightmare truly began.

Across the roaring fire, I spotted her. Keyla. My adopted sister wore a stunning, backless crimson gown. She held a champagne flute, laughing brightly as she soaked up the pack's admiration. She looked like a queen already. She was waiting for the grand announcement. Uncle Arthur had brokered a political alliance with the Blackveil Lycan Court. Tonight, the Lycan Prince was supposed to announce their betrothal.

I watched her smile, and the ghost of her cruel laughter echoed in my ears, bouncing off the cellar walls. My pulse didn't race with panic. It slowed. A thick, heavy ice settled in my veins. I didn't want to run anymore. I wanted to burn them all to the ground.

Then, the scent hit me.

Dark cedar and smoke. It was intoxicating, heavy, and unmistakable. It bypassed my human senses and sank straight into my wolf's bones.

I turned my head. Logan Bennett stood at the edge of the banquet hall with his Beta, Finn. Logan's Lycan aura was so dense and commanding that the wolves standing near him instinctively ducked their heads, baring their necks in submission. He was magnificent. Tall, broad-shouldered, radiating absolute power.

But he wasn't looking at Keyla. He was staring right at me.

His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. His stillness was terrifying—the predatory freeze of a wolf about to strike. In my past life, I had been terrified of that stare. I had hidden from the overwhelming pull of our mate bond because I was weak and broken.

Not this time. This time, I wouldn't hide. I would use it. I would use him.

I pushed away from the table and walked into the crowd. I moved with slow, deliberate steps, charting a path that brought me dangerously close to the Lycan Prince. As I brushed