The Betrayed Princess Rising (Lylah and Ezra) novel Chapter 320

Chapter 320

3rd Person’s POV

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e Finished

Today marked the official announcement of the best paper, and most of the participating students had invited their families. After escorting her parents into the conference hall, Cora stepped out onto the snow-dusted parking lawn. The cold bit against her skin, but it did little to cool the heat simmering beneath it.

A sleek white Maybach door opened just ahead, and Rowan Blackfang stepped out.

“Cora?” His brow furrowed the moment he saw her expression-the rigid set of her shoulders, the fire burning behind her eyes.

“Before you go inside, we need to talk. Now.” Her voice was low, but edged with a growl. “About that night when you brought up my connection with Commander Ivar in front of my parents.”

She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering.

“Now they think I’ve been hiding it, that I was saving it as leverage.” Her jaw tightened. “You know how my father is when it comes to power.”

Rowan exhaled slowly, his expression smoothing into something deceptively calm. “Relax, it wasn’t that serious,” he said, his tone easy-dismissive. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

The lie slipped from him effortlessly.

In truth, irritation had driven him-irritation at her constant deflection, at the way she kept denying him access to that connection ever since the day Ivar had turned them away at his

estate.

“I don’t want you doing that again,” Cora pressed. “I’ve reserved that privilege for you, for Blackfang. But if you cross the line for the second time, I’ll offer it to my father instead. To Ironcrest.”

Rowan’s eyes flickered.

He understood the weight of that perfectly.

Which was exactly why he needed her tethered-to him, not them.

“Alright, I won’t do it again,” he said at last, stepping closer. His voice dipping into something warmer, more intimate. “I’m sorry, Cora.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

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“Forgive me… my Luna.”

Her wolf responded instantly.

The tension in her body eased, the sharp edges of her anger dulling beneath the familiar pull o his presence. Rowan’s lips curved, satisfaction settling deep in his gaze.

He didn’t just know her.

He had studied her.

Every weakness. Every trigger. Every fragile place where her strength could be bent beneath his touch.

And he used it. Effortlessly.

Elsewhere, behind a closed door in a dimly lit study, the atmosphere felt far heavier.

Damon sat behind the desk, his posture rigid, though the storm beneath his composure churned relentlessly. Across from him stood a hotel clerk-nervous, though trying not to show it.

“This is all I could recover. Beta,” the man said. holding out a sealed bag. Inside lay torn fragments of fabric-once part of a hotel sheet. “Lady Ashcroft destroyed it herself. She cut it apart and discarded the rest in the sewer.”

Damon’s gaze darkened as he took it.

“She left Lunaris this morning,” the clerk added carefully. “She’s already returned to Blackfang.

“Already?” Damon murmured.

His wolf stirred, restless-displeased.

Two weeks. She had been here for two weeks, and now she was gone without a word.

The clerk offered a knowing smile, the kind that bordered on dangerous. “You know the old saying-true wolves don’t wait; they hunt what they desire. Perhaps, Beta, it’s time you should

“Let her go,” Damon cut in, his voice sharp enough to silence him instantly. “Her presence here was disruptive enough.”

The words were cold, but they didn’t reach his eyes.

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Chapter 320

His

gaze

had already dropped to the torn remnants in his hand.

That night.

Finished

It returned in fragments-fever-warm and dangerously vivid. Heat coiled through the memory, tangled with slipping restraint, with the heady pull of something he should have resisted… but hadn’t.

His breath left him in a rough exhale. He dragged a hand through his hair, as if he could shake the memory loose.

‘Damn it. I was a fool.

The thought burned with frustration, but not regret.

Because beneath the risk, beneath the consequences he refused to name, something far more dangerous lingered.

Her scent-soft, intoxicating—had seeped into his senses until it became impossible to ignore. Her warmth, pressed against him, alive and real. The way she had undone him so effortlessly for the second time, slipping past his control like smoke through clenched fists.

It clung to him.

Like a phantom touch, his wolf refused to forget no matter how much he tried.

“Did she bring anyone else to her room?” he asked suddenly. “Any man?”

The clerk shook his head. “No, Beta. Only you.”

908

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The Betrayed Princess Rising