The Betrayed Princess Rising (Lylah and Ezra) novel Chapter 3

Lylah's POV

I returned to the manor and shut myself inside my room.

The space reeked of Alpha indulgence, luxuries Rowan had claimed for me after Blackwood Pack rose to dominance. Velvet-lined boxes of diamonds and enchanted gems. Robes spun from pure winter fur.

None of it felt like mine anymore.

I dragged my suitcase from beneath the bed and began packing the few simple clothes I’d bought myself over the years.

Just as I folded the last shirt, my phone buzzed to life.

Tiara:

'Lylah, the Mate-market is buzzing! Your profile has drawn more than fifty unmated males already! Mentioning Lunar Grace was a brilliant move, but are you really leaving? How about Alpha Rowan? I never believed he’d allow you that much distance.'

A bitter smile curved my lips.

Once, I would have waited for permission. Once, my feeling for him would have tightened around my ribs at the thought of disobedience.

But that girl was gone.

Suddenly, a knock struck the door.

I sighed. I was too exhausted to face anyone.

“Lylah,” Rowan’s voice carried through the wood, “Open up. I have something for you.”

I crossed the room and slid the door open.

A chorus of voices burst forth at once.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, Lylah!”

Rowan stood at the center, smiling as if nothing in the world was amiss. In his hand rested a small velvet box. Behind him were Gavriel, his Beta, and Rosella—Gavriel’s mate—both wearing practiced smiles.

“What is this?” I asked.

“What else?” Gavriel laughed. “A surprise. Alpha's been driving us mad preparing this since morning.”

Morning.

The same morning he’d spent with Cora at my mentor’s office.

I smiled anyway.

“Go on, Alpha,” Rosella urged brightly. “Give her the special gift you’ve been planning all week.”

Rowan stepped closer and opened the box.

His scent, and the unmistakable trace of the deep wood, rolled over me. Telling me exactly where he’d been moments ago.

“I’ll put this gift on you,” Rowan said.

Inside lay a tiny bracelet set with a small amethyst. Pretty. Modest.

A diminished echo of the elaborate necklace he’d given Cora.

Rowan fastened it around my wrist.

“Thank you,” I managed.

His brows knit. “You sound distant, little moon. Aren’t you happy? You used to light up whenever I gave you gifts. You’d jump into my arms. Where did that go?”

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