Chapter 20: Unexpected Visitor

The party had ended hours ago, but Rosie’s rage hadn’t cooled even slightly.

If anything, it had curdled into something worse.

She stood in the middle of the private room she had claimed for herself in the event center, still dressed her gown. Her reflection in the vanity mirror stared back at her, smudged makeup and all, and she hated it.

She hated all of it.

With a scream that tore up from somewhere deep in her chest, Rosie snatched the crystal glass from the table beside her and hurled it at the wall. It shattered on impact, shards scattering across the marble floor in a glittering, useless mess.

"Rosie, calm down—"

"Calm down?!" Rosie whirled on June, her eyes wild. "You’re all useless! Completely useless! I told you to spike the drinks, June! I told you exactly what to do, and you couldn’t even manage that!"

June flinched but held her ground, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "Don’t blame me. It’s not my fault the King’s loyal hound was following me everywhere the entire party. I couldn’t get near the tray without Xavier breathing down my neck."

Rosie’s eyes cut to Silas, who stood near the door, unusually quiet.

"And you?" she snapped. "What’s your excuse?"

Silas raised both hands slowly, placating. "I swear it, Rosie. They didn’t have sex. They didn’t. I saw it for myself. Someone would have smelled it on her, mating scent doesn’t just vanish—"

"Then why did he stand there and lie to my face in front of the entire Lycan world?" Rosie’s voice broke. "He made me look like a fool. A fool, Silas! In front of every noble family, every Alpha, every single person who matters!"

She pressed the heel of her palm against her eye, willing the tears back with sheer force of will.

"Conan." She said his name like a curse. "Conan. Conan!!"

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

"I am the one supposed to be the one standing up there," she hissed. "Me. Not some markless gutter rat from Tideclaw. Me. I would have made an excellent queen. Do you have any idea what that title means? The access, the resources, the—" she inhaled sharply, "—the Queen of Lycans Luna mark."

June’s brows furrowed. "That Luna mark hasn’t manifested it’s abilities in generations, Rosie. The dowager queen didn’t get abilities from it."

"That doesn’t mean it can’t," Rosie snapped. "It’s tied to the woman. Her bloodline, her strength. I am the daughter of a Beta bloodline going back centuries. If anyone was going to manifest something from that mark, it would have been me."

She turned back to the mirror, staring hollowly at her own reflection.

Would have been me.

"But now...." Her voice trailed off, brittle.

June watched Rosie. The Queen of Lycans Luna Mark was a famed mark that apparently gave it’s bearers powers bordering the miraculous. The last mark that had manifested abilities had been over a century ago.

And if Aurora, the literal daughter of an Alpha, could not manifest abilities...

What hope did a mere Beta descendant have?

But she said nothing about it.

"Look," June said instead, softer now, stepping closer despite the warning look Rosie shot her. "Rosie, I know you’re hurt. I know this isn’t what you wanted. But maybe.....maybe this is a sign. To let it go. To move on."

Silas’s hand shot out, gripping June’s wrist. "Not now, June."

"It’s true, though," June pressed, pulling her arm free. "You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Look at you. This isn’t healthy, Rosie, it’s been months of—"

"Get out!"

The words tore from Rosie’s throat. Before Rosie could push June out, the door swung open without so much as a knock.

Aurora stood in the doorway, her eyes sweeping over the shattered glass on the floor with obvious distaste before landing on Rosie.

"You look pathetic," she said flatly.

Rosie swallowed hard, straightening her spine on reflex.

June tensed beside her, suddenly finding great interest in the floor.

Silas cleared his throat. "Dowager Queen."

Aurora didn’t even acknowledge him. She kept her gaze fixed on Rosie. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you acting like this?"

"Didn’t you see? He embarrassed me," Rosie said, her voice smaller now, stripped of the venom from moments ago.

"And?" Aurora’s tone was ice. "The seed has been planted, Rosie. That is what matters. There will be scrutiny now, whispers, questions, doubt, all of it circling that markless girl like vultures. It will not stop. It will only grow. And soon enough, it will become unbearable." She stepped further into the room, her heels crunching over broken glass without so much as a flinch. "My son will have no choice but to admit you were always the better option."

Rosie turned to the mirror again, staring at herself as though searching for the woman Aurora described.

She thought of earlier that day, Conan walking up to them, informing Aurora in no uncertain terms that she was no longer welcome to visit the Palace whenever she pleased. That the same applied to Rosie.

He had been so angry. Angrier than she had ever seen him.

"Your father would be disgusted to see you like this," Aurora had told him, right before he had stormed off without another word.

Rosie sniffed, blinking back the fresh sting of tears.

I must get that mark, she thought, gripping the edge of the vanity. No matter what it takes.

Silas, feeling uncomfortable and like a useless piece of rock, cleared his throat. "There may be another way. I found something, old texts, historical archive records. A way to destroy the union."

Aurora’s eyes sharpened with sudden interest.

"Good," she said. "You’ll show me."

~

Morning came too soon.

Hazel had just finished bathing, the water long gone cold by the time she had finally dragged herself out of it. Conan was out, and she didn’t know where to. Frankly, she no longer cared to ask.

Her assigned servants moved around her, dressing her, arranging her hair, all while carefully avoiding her eyes. Tawny, in particular, kept sneaking worried glances at her in the mirror, but wisely said nothing.

Hazel didn’t blame them for staying quiet.

She had cried herself hollow the night before, curled up alone in her personal bedroom, replaying every single word Conan had said until they had lost all meaning. A mistake. Separate lives. Yes, I regret it. Over and over, until her chest had ached from something deeper than crying.

But morning had brought a colder kind of clarity.

She would not be such a fool again.

If Conan wanted distance, she would give him distance. If he wanted cordial, she could be cordial, cold and untouchable. She refused to spend one more night sobbing over a man who had made his feelings devastatingly clear.

Even if he had been her first kiss.

A knock sounded at her door.

"Enter," she called out.

A tall man stepped in, a jagged scar running just beneath his right eye, giving his otherwise unremarkable face a harder edge. He bowed briefly.

"Your Majesty. Maddox Kane, Delta of the Bloodmoon pack, at your service."

Hazel inclined her head slightly, unimpressed. "What is it?"

"The King’s cousin has arrived, and she requests an audience with you."

Hazel’s expression didn’t change. "I do not wish to see her."

Maddox hesitated. "The King commanded you meet with her, Your Majesty. It is about your studies."

Hazel’s gaze hardened.

"Tell the King," she said slowly, "that I am the Queen, and I will do as I please."

Maddox blinked, clearly caught off guard by the harshness and confidence in her tone. Then, after a beat, he bowed low.

"Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll relay the message."

He left as swiftly as he had come, and Hazel exhaled, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders.

Now what, she thought, glancing around the room. What am I supposed to do all day, alone in this gilded cage?

She wanted to get back at Rosie, but how could she even go about that?

"Perhaps a walk in the gardens, Your Majesty?" Gertrude offered gently, adjusting the sleeve of Hazel’s gown. "Or the library. Doctor Ivana mentioned you might enjoy—"

Another knock cut her off.

A different servant poked her head in, looking slightly flustered. "Your Majesty, forgive the interruption. You have a guest."

Hazel arched a brow. "Me?"

The servant nodded quickly. "Alpha Derek Stone. Of the Aries Celestial Line. Emberfang Pack."

Hazel’s frown deepened, confusion creasing her brow.

Alpha Derek Stone.

What could he possibly want with me?