I’m checking the saddle straps on the horse the King provided when his scent hits me. Smoked pine and earth and something darker. Alpha. Mate.

Ex-mate, I remind myself savagely. Rejected mate.

But my traitorous body doesn’t care about semantics. My wolf perks up, ears forward, before I can shove her back down. Mira whines softly, confused by the pull that shouldn’t exist anymore.

“Going somewhere?” Theron’s voice comes from behind me, rough and edged with something dangerous.

I don’t turn around. “The Lycan court. You knew that.”

“Without saying goodbye?” He’s closer now. I can feel the heat of him at my back, the way the air changes when he’s near.

“We said everything that needed saying.” I yank the strap tighter than necessary. “You rejected me. I rejected you. We’re done.”

“Are we?”

The question makes my hands still on the leather. Slowly, I turn to face him.

He looks terrible. His hair is disheveled, dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. His jaw is shadowed with stubble, and there’s something wild in his eyes that makes my pulse jump.

“Yes,” I say, forcing the word out steady. “We are.”

He laughs, but it’s a broken sound. “Then why does my wolf claw at me every goddamn second, demanding I find you?” He takes a step forward. “Why do I want to rip apart every male who looks at you?”

“Not my problem.”

I turn back to the horse, but his hand shoots out, gripping my elbow and spinning me around.

“You played me.” His voice drops to a growl. “Made me think you were nothing. Weak. Worthless. A wolf who couldn’t shift.”

“I was nothing!” The words explode from me, and I shove at his chest. He doesn’t move. “You made sure of that! You and Celeste and every single person in this pack!” My voice cracks. “I believed I was worthless because everyone told me I was. Because you told me I was.”

“I didn’t—”

“You announced her as your Luna while I was in heat. You cornered me at the border and offered to fuck me as a mercy.” I shove him again, harder. “So don’t you dare stand there and act like I deceived you. I was exactly what you made me!”

His jaw clenches. “I didn’t know…”

“That I was a princess? Would it have mattered?” I step closer, getting in his face. “If you’d known I was royal, would you have treated me differently? Or would you still have chosen her?”

He doesn’t answer. Can’t answer. “That’s what I thought.”

I move to step past him but Theron blocks me. His hand comes up to grip the stable wall beside my head, caging me in.

“You think this is easy for me?” His voice is raw. “You think I wanted any of this?”

“I think you wanted Celeste all the way.” I meet his eyes, refusing to back down even though we’re inches apart. “I think you got exactly what you asked for.”

“I wanted my mate!” The confession rips from him. “I wanted the bond that was supposed to be sacred, supposed to be—” He stops, jaw working. “I made a choice, the wrong one. I know that now.”

“Oh, you know that now?” I laugh bitterly. “Now that I can shift? Now that I’m a princess? How convenient, Theron. How very fucking convenient that I’m suddenly good enough.”

“That’s not…” He stops, his hand flexing against the wall. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what’s it about?”

He’s breathing hard now, his chest rising and falling rapidly. We’re so close I can feel his breath on my face, can see the gold swirling in his eyes.

“The rejection is killing me,” he admits quietly. “I haven’t slept. Can barely eat. My wolf is tearing me apart from the inside because you’re not there anymore.”

“Good.” The word comes out cold. “Now you know how it felt.”

Theron goes rigid beside me. “The Priestess can wait.”

“No. She can’t.” I cut him off, my voice steadier than I feel and turn to the messenger. “Tell her I’ll be there shortly. And my name is Kira.”

The messenger bows again and disappears. Silence fills the stable, heavy and sharp.

“Kira…” Theron starts.

“Don’t.” I finally looked at him. At the desperation in his eyes, the way he’s barely holding himself together. “Just don’t.”

“This isn’t over.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Yes, it is. You made sure of that when you chose her.”

I move toward the stable door, giving him a wide berth.

“Whatever you think you feel now—guilt, regret, buyer’s remorse—it doesn’t change anything.”

I don’t wait for his response. Don’t give him the chance to say whatever he’s planning to say. I walk out of the stable, through the morning light, leaving him alone in the shadows.

Behind me, I hear something crash—wood splintering, his fist against the stable wall, maybe. A frustrated, anguished sound that’s half-growl, half-human.

My wolf whimpers, wanting to turn back. Wanting to comfort him.

But I don’t.

I keep walking toward the sacred grove, toward the Priestess, toward whatever comes next.

Because looking back won’t change what he did. Won’t erase the humiliation, the pain, the rejection. Looking back will only remind me of what we could have been, if he’d been brave enough to choose me when it mattered.