The Betrayed Princess Rising (Lylah and Ezra) novel Chapter 434

Chapter 434

3rd Person’s POV

“Who are you?”

Rowan’s voice cut through the street like a sharpened blade. His wolf prowled violently beneath his skin now, agitated by humiliation, betrayal, and the growing scent of deception surrounding his mate.

The disheveled wolf barely seemed to notice.

“Alpha Rowan, hasn’t Cora told you about me?” the man asked drunkenly, swaying slightly where he stood. The stench of cheap alcohol clung to him so heavily that it polluted the cold midnight air. “I’m Erik of Whitepine. Cora and I are cousins.”

He grinned foolishly, exposing yellowed teeth.

“We were close growing up. Slept in the same bed, ran around together…” His eyes gleamed greedily as they shifted toward the luxurious apartment tower behind Rowan. “Now she’s become Luna of a rich Alpha like you, she wouldn’t forget her old family, right?”

Cora’s stomach dropped.

“Erik,” she snapped sharply, shooting him a warning glare.

But Erik either failed to notice-or simply didn’t care.

“And I came to congratulate you!” He continued eagerly. “I saw the mating ceremony on the news. Goddess, it was incredible. The decorations alone must’ve cost a fortune.”

Rowan said nothing.

Yet disgust darkened his expression further with every passing second.

He knew wolves like this.

Low-ranking opportunists who crawled toward power the moment they scented wealth. Wolves who mistook another’s success for an invitation to feed.

And this one parasite…

This one was tied to Cora.

“Alpha Rowan,” Erik said shamelessly, stepping closer despite the suffocating pressure rolling off Rowan’s aura, “you’re an Alpha with endless wealth. Someone like you wouldn’t even notice if a little of it disappeared.” His grin widened greedily. “I’m family after all.”

Family.

The word alone made Rowan’s wolf snarl.

The scent coming from Erik was filthy-stale liquor, sweat, desperation, and weakness.

And suddenly Rowan understood something far worse.

This was where Cora came from before Ironcrest.

Not Ivar’s prestigious legacy.

Not dignity.

This.

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