POV Odette
Devon's fury radiated through the office like heat from a forge, his eyes locked on Nathaniel with predatory focus.
"Nathaniel is the Alpha of the Royal Nightfall Pack," I said quickly, trying to defuse the mounting tension. "He's an honored guest in my father's residence. While Father handles matters of state, Nathaniel has been instructing me in court protocol and royal duties."
"Protocol." Devon's voice dripped acid. "Is that what we're calling it?"
Nathaniel stepped forward, abandoning diplomacy entirely.
"Since you're so interested in technicalities, Alpha Devon, let me clarify one for you. Princess Odette was promised to me in marriage before she could walk. The pact bears signatures, seals, and the weight of two royal bloodlines."
"She's my wife—"
"You're married to Syrena," Nathaniel countered smoothly. "But Odette is nearly free to honor the arrangement made at her birth."
Devon lunged forward. "You manipulative—"
"Enough!" Magnus's command cracked through the room like thunder. "You stand in my office, under my roof, in the presence of the Crown. You will conduct yourselves like civilized Alphas, not rabid dogs fighting over a bone."
"Father!" I protested the comparison.
"Forgive me, daughter, but when grown men bare their teeth in my sanctuary, I call it what it is." His eyes swept between both Alphas. "There will be no violence here. Any Alpha who breaks this peace forfeits all claim to hospitality and consideration. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Nathaniel said immediately.
Devon's jaw worked before he ground out, "Understood."
"Father," I said, seizing the moment, "might I speak with my husband privately? There are matters we need to discuss without an audience."
Magnus studied me carefully, then nodded. "Use my office. Nathaniel, you're coming with me. We have actual treaties to review."
"Your Majesty—"
"That wasn't a request." Magnus's tone brooked no argument. "Come."
Nathaniel's shoulders tensed with reluctance, but he followed Magnus to the door. At the threshold, he paused, looking back at me with an expression that promised this wasn't over.
The door clicked shut, leaving Devon and me alone.
"Syrena—"
"Don't." I moved to the window, needing distance. "You don't get to look at me like I've betrayed you. Not after everything."
"I know." His voice cracked. "God, I know. I've been such a fool."
"That's one word for it."
"I'm trying to apologize!" He crossed to me, hands reaching before dropping to his sides. "I understand the damage I've done. The hurt I've caused."
"Do you? Because from where I stand, you understood so little that you took three wives to replace me."
"I didn't take them! I chose them to satisfy the council, but I never—"
He ran his hands through his hair.
"I cancelled everything the moment you disappeared. Ask anyone."
"And if I return? What then, Devon? The council's demands won't vanish because you've had a change of heart."
"I'll handle the council. I'll force them to accept you as my only Luna, my only wife. The pack will honor you or answer to me."
"Pretty words." I turned to face him fully. "But even if you could deliver on those promises, I'm not certain a princess belongs in a small border pack."
"You belong with me. You're my wife—"
"I'm also the Lycan King's daughter. I have responsibilities here, connections to power that could protect thousands."
I moved past him, fingers trailing along my father's desk.
"Whatever frayed between us needs mending before I can even consider returning. And even then, Devon, I have to decide if I want to renounce the family I've found for a pack that's already learned to live without me."
"That's not fair—"
"Isn't it? They whispered about me for three years. Called me barren, broken, cursed. Your sister, Mira, and even I, being manipulated by them, practically shoved those girls at you. Your council threatened your position unless you bred me out." My voice hardened. "Maybe my purpose is larger here, where one woman's choices can shelter many instead of suffering the mockery of few."
Devon's expression shifted from grief to something sharper. "This is about him, isn't it? Nathaniel."
"What?"
"You're reaching for excuses to stay near him." His voice dropped, almost breaking. "I see how he looks at you. How you let him stand so close, speak for you—"
"Devon—"
"Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you feel nothing for him."
The accusation blindsided me because I couldn't deny it entirely. To stop the spiral, to halt the pain I saw building in his eyes, I closed the distance between us and kissed him.
His response was immediate and desperate. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the edge of my father's desk. The familiar heat surged between us—muscle memory of six years together, bodies that knew each other's rhythms.
"Syrena," he breathed against my mouth. "My Syrena."
His hands moved to my thighs, pushing my dress higher, and for a moment I let myself remember what we'd been. Before the disappointments, before the betrayals, when we'd chosen each other against tradition.
Then yesterday's sharp pains flashed through my memory. The tiny life growing inside me, still so fragile, so secret. Dr. Brennan's warnings about avoiding strain echoed in my skull.
"Stop." I pressed my palms against his chest, breaking the kiss. "We can't. Not here."
"Why not?" His eyes were wild, desperate. "We've done worse in less appropriate places."
"This is my father's office, Devon. The King's office." I slid off the desk, smoothing my dress with shaking hands. "It's not appropriate."
"Since when do you care about appropriate?"
"Since I became a princess with a reputation to maintain."
He stared at me, chest heaving. "You've changed."
"Everything's changed." I moved toward the door, needing space between us. "But I have missed you. That hasn't changed."
His shoulders eased slightly at the admission. "Then come home. Let me fix this."
"It's not that simple anymore."
"It could be." He moved closer, not touching but near enough that I felt his warmth. "If you still love me, it could be simple again."
"Love was never our problem, Devon." I met his eyes, letting him see my truth. "Trust was. Choice was. Respect was."
"I can earn those back—"
"Maybe. But not today." I reached for the door handle.
"I'm not leaving without you."
I opened the door to find Magnus and Nathaniel in the hallway, obviously waiting.
"Father, Devon was just preparing to leave."
"Actually," Magnus said smoothly, "I've invited Alpha Devon to stay. A chance for him to understand his wife's heritage."
Nathaniel's expression could have frozen flame. "How generous of you, Your Majesty."
"Indeed." Magnus smiled, but his eyes held warning for all of us. "Odette, perhaps you could show Alpha Devon to the guest wing? The blue suite should suffice."
"Of course, Father."
As I led Devon away, I felt Nathaniel's gaze burning into my back.
The smart thing would be to tell them both the truth—that I carried Nathaniel's child, that the choice was already made by biology if not by heart. But standing between them, desire banked but not extinguished, I couldn't form the words.
Some truths demanded their own time, and this secret still felt too fragile to survive the storm it would unleash.