The cart rocked over uneven ground, the rhythmic sway doing little to soothe Celine’s fraying nerves. She kept her eyes on the passing trees, pretending to be engrossed in the endless green, pretending not to feel the hollowness inside her chest.
Forget him. Luke has made his choice.
Lyra’s voice slid into her thoughts, cool and certain.
Celine’s fingers curled into the fabric of her dress. I’m trying.
Not hard enough.
She pressed her lips together, shoving down the bitter lump rising in her throat. It didn’t matter if Luke had looked at her like he wasn’t sure if she was real, if he had hesitated before saying his vows, if he had looked like he wanted to say something more but never did.
None of it mattered.
She had lost. And Lyra was right. Holding on to something already broken would only shred her further.
Unfortunately, fate had a twisted sense of humor, because the moment she managed to breathe through the tightness in her chest, Sasha and Reese jumped into the cart. Before that, they usually followed Leon wherever he went, and he just seemed to ignore Celine’s existence completely.
Sasha perched elegantly across from her, legs crossed, her green dress perfectly arranged in a way that looked effortless but was anything but.
Reese leaned against the side of the cart, arms folded over his broad chest, his smirk measured, calculated.
Everything about them felt… wrong.
"Celine," Sasha said, stretching her name like a silk ribbon between them. "We haven’t had much time to talk."
Celine blinked, then gave her a bland stare. "No, we haven’t."
Sasha’s smile was sharp, but before she could continue, Reese spoke, his voice almost too smooth.
"I think I owe you an apology," he said, tilting his head. "I might have been a little harsh before."
Celine arched a brow, unimpressed. "Oh?"
Reese’s gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate. "I didn’t realize who you were."
And there it was. Now that they knew she was Alpha Roman’s daughter, they had conveniently decided she deserved their attention.
"Now, I see things differently," Reese continued. "Someone with your lineage… your beauty…" He let the words hang between them, watching her for a reaction.
Celine kept her face neutral, even as something dark coiled in her stomach.
"You must let me make it up to you," he added, voice low, coaxing. "There must be something I can do for you."
A slow smile curled at Celine’s lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.
"Actually, yes," she said, watching the satisfaction flicker in his eyes—right before she yanked the ground out from under him.
"Leave the servants alone."
Reese’s smirk faltered. "What?"
She tilted her head. "The ones you like to torment? Leave them alone." Then, with a sweet smile, she added, "And go touch some grass."
A barely muffled laugh came from behind her. Celine didn’t need to turn to know some of the servants had overheard.
Good.
Reese’s expression hardened, his posture going rigid as if she had just slapped him across the face.
Sasha’s emerald eyes flashed with irritation. "You’re making enemies where you don’t need to."
Celine shrugged. "I think I’ll live."
Sasha gave her a long, assessing look before rising gracefully from her seat. Reese followed, muttering under his breath, his movements stiff with barely concealed anger.
For the first time, Celine felt the balance of power shift. And gods, it felt good. But the moment was short-lived, because as her mind drifted away from Reese and Sasha, it landed where it always did.
On Leon.
Since the kiss, he had been distant. Cold. He rode at the front with his warriors, keeping to himself, never once sparing her a glance.
And yet, Celine could still feel his hands gripping her jaw, his mouth crushing against hers, the heat, the hunger, the possessiveness.
She let out a sharp breath, shaking her head.
Leon wants nothing to do with you.
Lyra’s voice was quiet this time. And maybe that’s for the best.
Maybe.