The Betrayed Princess Rising Chapter 271

Lylah's POV

I tightened my hold around Tiara, instinct overriding everything else. If that lunatic behind us meant to ram the car, I would take the impact, not her.

Headlights shattered across the glass like splintered silver.

Then, tires screamed. The sedan lunged forward—

—and slammed violently into the road divider.

Our taxi jerked to a halt.

My breath came ragged, heart pounding against my ribs as the world rang with the echo of the crash. For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Then instinct snapped me back.

“Check on her,” I told the driver quickly, easing Tiara back as I pushed the door open and stepped out.

The night air hit me cold.

I moved toward the wreck.

The front of the sedan was crushed, glass fractured like a spiderweb. The window hung open just enough for me to see the driver slumped inside,

And my blood ran cold.

“Rowan…?”

Rowan looked like something dragged straight out of a battlefield—nose crooked, blood spilling from his split lip, the sharp, metallic scent thick in the air. His hair hung wild over his eyes, shadowing a face carved with pain and something far more dangerous. But his chest still rose.

Alive.

I reached out, my fingertips barely grazing a stray lock of his hair. When his hand suddenly lashed up, clamping around my wrist like a steel trap.

“Was this what it takes…?” His voice came rough, grinding like stone against stone, yet unmistakably awake.

His eyes opened. They burned into mine—predatory, fever-bright, laced with a possessiveness that made my own wolf recoil and bare its teeth beneath my skin. “For me to feel the touch of your soft finger again, little moon?”

My breath hitched. “Let go of me."

“If it takes some broken bones and a little bit of blood…” A slow, unhinged smile dragged across his lips, like a predator savoring the hunt even while wounded. “Then I’ll do it again. As many times as it takes.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” I snapped, yanking against his grip. “You endangered everyone on this road. For what? This twisted little performance?”

Something flickered in his expression—hurt and raw and sharp beneath the haze.

“Why are you speaking to me with that tone?” Rowan rasped. “Do you know what it does to me… to see you like this?”

Selene above.

The scent hit me then—faint, but unmistakable.

Wines.

Of course.

Reckless. Careless. And worst of all… unrepentant.

Even now, there was satisfaction curling at the edges of his expression.

“Lylah…” Rowan murmured, voice dropping, almost reverent. “At least now we’re standing before each other again.”

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder, cutting through the charged air. Lights spilled across the street as Lunaris Enforcers' cars closed in, their presence sharp and commanding.

Still, Rowan’s gaze never left me.

I pressed my lips together and stepped back, breaking his hold.

His hand lingered in the air, reaching after me—empty.

“Hold on, Lady.” An enforcer stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“I don’t know him,” I said evenly, forcing my voice into something calm despite the tension coiling beneath my skin. “He was driving drunk and caused this mess. He has a mate, I can call her to come here.”

The enforcer studied me, his wolf lingering just beneath the surface, sharp and assessing. “You were the first at the scene. We’ll need you as a witness. So stay.”

The area was quickly locked down. And soon, the enforcers moved around the wreck, checking Rowan, assessing the damage.

Minutes later, the same officer returned, with something different in his expression. He held up a phone.

My pulse quickened.

“Are you Lylah?” he asked.

“I am.”

His gaze flicked to the screen before returning to me. “Then you just lied to me. Alpha Rowan of Blackfang has only one contact listed on his phone. You.”

My stomach dropped.

“Lady Lylah,” he continued, his tone firming with quiet authority, “you’ll need to come with us to the treatment center and do what’s required as the closest one he has.”

Through the cracked glass of the wrecked car, I caught it—

the slow, calculated grin, tearing at the edge of Rowan’s blood-soaked lips.