"I’ve never seen a love so deep among men." Vladimir’s voice cracked as a tear slid down his weathered cheek. He didn’t bother to wipe it away, didn’t hide the emotion that gripped him. "I only thought such love could only exist between a man and a woman." His gaze swept across the auditorium, meeting the eyes of those who understood.
Heads nodded in agreement, a slow, solemn movement that rippled through the crowd. "This kind of love is so rare," another added, his voice thick with emotion.
Ravyn’s eyes were red, his jaw tight with the effort of holding himself together. He and Voren had been so close, but even he did not think they had ever reached this level.
The depth of sacrifice, the willingness to give up everything for another’s elevation was beyond comprehension.
He’d been there. He’d seen how hard Corvine worked for that crown, the blood and sweat and near-death moments. Ravyn had thought it was all for Liah, for the woman he loved. But now that he thought of it critically, Corvine did it all for Voren.
Had it been just for Liah, indeed, he would have just married her in France and made her a member of the Grimroot pack. With the Grimroot pack on her side, Jaron would not dare to cause trouble.
The crown would have been unnecessary. But Corvine had gone through the fire not for power, not for a throne, but to place it on the head of the man he called brother.
Now, the mega question sat heavy on Ravyn’s chest, a weight that pressed down on his lungs. Would he have been kind enough to give up a crown after working so hard for it? The answer shamed him. He knew it with a certainty that burned.
For the first time, he wasn’t jealous. But neither did he know what he felt—a strange, complicated mixture of admiration, regret, and something that felt almost like hope.
He’d known both Corvine and Voren for decades, and yet Voren and Corvine only become close for a short while. And yet, the bond formed between them was so great, so unshakeable, that it defied logic.
Ravyn could only sigh in the emotionally tense, luxurious hall. Yeah, there were unhappy people, those whose greed burned behind forced smiles, those who would have snatched the crown for themselves without a second thought.
But so were they undeserving of anyone’s attention. They were irrelevant, their jealousy a pathetic echo of something they could never understand.
Suddenly, a soft voice cut through the emotional atmosphere, light and teasing. "Can you two move away from the speaker?"
Corvine chuckled at the sound of Liah’s voice, the tension in his shoulders melting away. He quickly moved away from the speaker with Voren, their shoulders brushing, their smiles conspiratorial. Liah walked over to it, pulling Seraphine along with her.
Just like everyone, Seraphine had been so dazed by everything that happened. Her mind was still spinning, trying to catch up with the reality that had unfolded before her.
Athaliah had stepped into her life as a threat, a princess, a rival, a woman who bathed royalty, beauty and sophistication. But she had become her greatest comfort instead.
Once upon a time, Seraphine had a few Lunas she trusted enough to allow into her life as comfort. But they turned out to be her greatest threat and regret. Now, she was dazed as she watched Athaliah speak into the microphone, her voice clear and warm.


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