My wolf surged beneath my skin, snarling, pacing. I clenched my jaw to keep him down.
Lexa locked eyes with me, cold and unflinching.
“Don’t you dare start preaching to me about traditions, or roles, or whatever sanctified bullshit you Alphas chant to make yourselves feel righteous while you rut through omegas like dogs. You can dress it up in silk and gold, call it sacred, divine, fated—but in the end? It’s still just animals clawing each other in the dirt, pretending their urges are holy so they don’t have to choke on the truth. It's not mating. It's masking.”
The room went still. Even the fire dared not crackle.
Tanya stepped forward, her voice trembling with outrage. “You can’t let her speak like that—she’s not even one of us! She’s filth. Rogue-born—feral trash who—”
Lexa didn’t even look at her. Her gaze stayed fixed on mine.
“You said it yourself,” she said, voice quiet now, but deadly. “I’m not pack. So I don’t bow. Not to you—and sure as hell not to yourLuna.”
The word sliced the air like a blade, sharp and final.
My voice dropped into a growl. “What did you just say?”
Lexa smiled then. Slow. Venomous. I’d seen wolves bare their teeth in warning with more restraint.
“Oh. You didn’t know?” she said, almost sweet. “That’s what she calls herself. When you’re not around. In front of your guards. In front of your Beta.”
My eyes slid to Garrick. He didn’t speak. Didn’t shift. Just nodded. Once. That was all it took. Everything inside me cracked. Heat rose in my chest—burning, blinding, lethal. The fury wasn’t just mine—it belonged to every Alpha who ever ruled with law and blood and iron.
“Everyone. Out.” My voice boomed through the stone walls like a hammer.
The guards left without a word. Garrick followed, eyes heavy on me. Only Tanya remained.
She stepped forward again, shaking, voice rising. “You can’t—Andros, she assaulted me—where’s my apology—”
“Get. The fuck. Out.”
“But..”
“You call yourselfLunaagain,” I hissed, “and I’ll strip your tongue from your skull and mount it on the gates as a reminder of what happens to liars in my court.”
Her face crumbled. Then hardened. She spun and stormed out, the scent of her bleeding pride fouling the air behind her. The door slammed shut behind Tanya like judgment itself. The echo rang down the hall, leaving behind only silence—and Lexa.
She stood there, cuffed in black iron, her chest rising and falling with every breath like she’d just won a battle. And maybe she had. Maybe throwing the truth into the room like a lit match was her victory. But as I turned back toward her, the space between us tightened like a snare, and I felt the shift. The air thickened. Heated. The flames in the hearth danced higher,reflecting in her eyes like molten glass.
I stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until I could see the tension in her shoulders, the tremble just under her skin. Not fear. Not anticipation. It was restraint.
She was holding herself together by threads, and I was about to pull them all.
“What really happened,” I said, voice low, slow, curling like smoke through the space between us. “Not Tanya’s version. Not the guards’ reports. Yours. Tell me what made you snap.”
Her jaw clenched. She looked away for half a breath, then back again, her eyes colder now, harder.
“The rune,” she said.
I raised a brow.
“It broke. It—it messed with my mind. My control.” She bit the inside of her cheek like she hated even saying it. “I lost my temper. That’s all it was.”
I didn’t believe her. Not for a second. But gods, I liked the sound of her scrambling for composure. Then she tilted her head, and her entire expression changed. Her voice dropped into something silken, warm honey over steel.
“My apologies,” she said sweetly, lips curving into something dangerous.“My Alpha.”
The sound of those words in that voice… It punched straight into my gut. My wolf reared, clawing at the inside of my chest like it recognized the tone. That purring, submissive lilt was the kind of music he was bred to obey. To take. To own. I smiled slowly. Darkly. Stepped closer until we were breath to breath.