The Betrayed Princess Rising (Lylah and Ezra) novel Chapter 8

Lylah's POV

An hour had crawled by since they said they were preparing dinner, and now my patience snapped. My leg throbbed in protest as I pushed myself upright.

Ignoring the sharp pull of pain, I limped toward the stairs. If they weren’t going to finish the meal, I would do it myself.

Halfway down, a strange sensation washed over me.

Selestine recoiled violently inside me—nothing like the usual, this was primal. Wrong. My stomach lurched as nausea clawed its way up my throat, urging me to turn back.

"Easy, girl," I murmured silently, "We’re just getting food. You’re hungry, that’s all."

She didn’t calm down.

The closer I got to the kitchen, the stronger the warning became—my wolf pressing against my ribs, hackles raised, instincts screaming.

I reached the doorway and froze.

“Lylah just got a bit emotional,” Rowan's voice drifted. “She didn’t mean to drive you out of here. Just ignore what you heard earlier. Don't cry again, alright?”

He cupped Cora’s face gently. She was sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Okay, Alpha,” Cora replied, her voice sweet and trembling. “But my cheek still stings. I think if you kiss it, it might fade.”

“Where do you want me to kiss?” Rowan smiled.

Her lashes fluttered. “Here. Where Lylah slapped me.”

He leaned in.

At first, it was just a brush of lips against her cheek. Then he didn’t pull away. His mouth shifted until it met hers.

Something inside me shattered.

My body locked in place, then began to tremble violently. I clamped a hand over my mouth as pain exploded through my chest. Selestine howled, the bond screaming in protest as if it were being torn apart thread by thread.

Dizzy, I stumbled forward.

“Lylah!” They sprang apart instantly.

Rowan was at my side in a heartbeat, arms reaching to steady me. I shoved him away with every ounce of strength I had, revulsion burning through me.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Lylah, what are you doing down here?” Cora asked, wide-eyed and innocent. “Your leg is still hurt, let me bring the food to your room.”

They recovered far too quickly.

Rowan’s expression shifted into concern, while Cora’s cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, yet she played her part flawlessly.

I didn’t answer.

I turned and made my way to the dining table.

“Let me serve you,” Rowan said quickly. “I’ll prepare everything so you don’t have to move.”

I slapped his hand away.

“No need.”

Disgust curdled in my stomach.

All this time, how long had he been doing this? Slipping between us so effortlessly?

Playing the devoted partner while touching another woman behind my back?

“Lylah,” Rowan asked carefully, “is everything alright?”

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