Whatever it is, she’ll deal with it on her own. She always does.
I step back slightly, the space between us widening. She straightens her spine, her chin lifting just enough to radiate that quiet defiance I’ve come to associate with her.
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Chapter 29
But there’s something in her posture that feels forced, like she’s holding herself together by sheer willpower.
And for some reason, it bothers me.
I watch as she turns away, her steps deliberate, every movement an exercise in control and composure.
Her back is straight, her shoulders squared, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s on the verge of breaking.
My wolf growls low in my mind, restless and unsettled.
You’re missing something, he says, his voice sharp and accusing. Look closer.
But I don’t want to look closer.
I don’t want to see whatever it is that’s hiding behind Siena’s mask, whatever it is that’s dragging her down.
Because if I see it–if I acknowledge it–then I’ll have to do something about it.
And I can’t.
Not now,
Not when everything between us is already so fractured, so broken.
I turn away, my gaze drifting back to the ballroom, but the sight of Lila doesn’t bring the distraction I hoped for.
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Instead, all I can think about is the way Siena’s voice cracked earlier, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly before she shoved them into fists.
Something’s wrong.
I shake my head, dragging a hand through my hair as frustration coils tight in my chest.
It’s not my problem.
It hasn’t been my problem for a long time.
Siena made that clear the moment she agreed to this fake marriage, the moment she decided that protecting Windhowl mattered more than anything else.
And yet…
I can’t shake the image of her walking away, her movements so rigid and controlled, like she’s holding herself together with nothing but stubborn pride.
The memory tugs at something deep inside me, something I’ve spent years trying to bury.
I exhale sharply, forcing the thought away.
This isn’t about Siena.
This is about the competition, about the kingdom, about everything that’s at stake.
Windhowl is prepared. That’s all that matters.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I make my way back into the crowd, slipping into the familiar rhythm of politics and posturing.
But even as I shake hands, exchange pleasantries, and play the part of the dutiful Alpha King, I can’t stop my mind from
Chapter 29
wandering back to her.
Siena.
The wolf who once stood beside me as my equal.
Who once made me feel like I was more than a title, more than a crown.
Now, she’s nothing more than a stranger.
And yet, as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, I can’t escape the nagging feeling that I’ve missed something important.
Something I should have seen.
Something I should have done.
I glance back toward the edge of the ballroom, where Siena disappeared moments ago.
But she’s gone now, swallowed by the crowd, and I’m left with nothing but the faint echo of her absence.
For reasons I can’t explain, it feels heavier than it should.
My wolf growls again, restless and unsatisfied.
I ignore him.
Because whatever this is–whatever’s happening between Siena and me–it doesn’t matter.
It can’t matter.
Not anymore.
