The Betrayed Princess Rising Chapter 41

3rd Person's POV

What Lylah had just heard felt unreal.

Alpha Ezra making an exception for her because she was his mate?

The words echoed in her mind, heavy and disorienting. She had always believed their mating bond was little more than a contract for him. She never imagined he would bend rules for her sake.

Before she could gather herself enough to ask again, Ezra deliberately changed the subject. His voice left no room for further questioning, closing the matter with finality. So they moved on.

They sat together at the dining table, sharing the first thing they had ever made side by side—simple butter-roasted bacon. The warm, savory scent lingered in the air, wrapping the moment in an unexpected intimacy.

After dinner, Lylah reminded Ezra about the new “friends” they had brought home from the grocery store. The turtles. Together, they arranged the enclosure on the balcony, positioning it carefully where moonlight, fresh air, and morning sun would reach.

Later that night, they retreated to their separate rooms.

After bathing, Lylah lay back on her bed, damp hair fanned across the silk pillow. Her phone vibrated softly in her hand.

Seven unread messages from Tiara.

Lylah groaned and immediately called her.

“Lylah, you’re shameless!” Tiara shouted the moment the call connected. “How could you forget about me so easily?”

“Relax,” Lylah laughed softly. “I was just so busy today.”

“Busy with what?” Tiara teased mercilessly. “Cuddling with your new mate? Kissing under the Lunaris sky?”

“Tiara stop!” Lylah hissed, heat rushing to her cheeks. “We were learning how to cook.”

“Cook?” Tiara scoffed. “You two are unbelievable. Your mate is Alpha Ezra of Moonclaw. One word from him, and a hundred omegas would be in the kitchen.”

“Just tell me the news,” Lylah said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away. “You messaged me Blackfang is in chaos right now. What happened?"

“Oh, darling, you won’t believe this,” Tiara giggled. “So yesterday at the college, Alpha Rowan publicly humiliated himself. He accused an innocent pack member of stealing his jewelry.”

Tiara recounted every detail with delight.

Lylah winced at each new revelation—secondhand embarrassment twisting painfully with a lingering sense of pity.

“They say he went berserk that very day," Tiara added. “Raging in his office and punishing his subordinates mercilessly. Congratulations Lylah, you’re stripping him of his sanity piece by piece. He deserves every second of it.”

Understanding settled coldly in Lylah’s chest.

So Rowan had found out.

She remembered Maia’s call from the day before, how Rowan’s presence had pressed through the line, heavy and suffocating, until his furious growl finally pierced the conversation.

It had been days since she left, yet she wasn’t surprised that he had only just discovered she sold every one of his gifts. Rowan had always relied on the same tactics.

Control through silence.

When she failed to obey, he punished her by withdrawing—cutting her off completely—until she broke first. Until she crawled back, apologizing for mistakes she never committed.

Apologizing was never Rowan’s role.

It was always hers.

~Flashback four years ago~

Winter had been unforgiving that year, biting deep into the bones of the Blackfang Pack. Hunger gnawed at them all.

It was Rowan’s first year running his company, and the first cohort of investor Alphas had arrived for a high-stakes meeting.

That morning, only a single bottle of milk remained after the rations had been handed out to the pack members. Lylah hadn’t eaten in two days, yet she carried it to Rowan’s office anyway.

She knew he needed it more than she did.

He was in the middle of a meeting with the Alphas when she entered. They noticed her immediately.

“Well, Alpha Rowan,” one of them chuckled, “you have yourself a devoted little Luna.”

“Bringing you milk with that smile,” another added. “Looks like she takes very good care of you.”

It was nothing more than teasing.

But Lylah would never forget the way Rowan’s aura had turned vicious.

He dragged her out of the room without a word, his grip bruising. Then, in a fit of rage, he hurled the bottle into the trash.

After that, he ignored her for an entire week.

Desperate, frightened, and convinced she had done something unforgivable, Lylah apologized again and again. Tiara had scolded her harshly, calling her naive, calling her blind.

On the ninth day, Rowan finally relented.

“It’s fine, Lylah,” he said coolly. “I’m not that angry. You can stop flooding me with those apology letters.”

She had smiled then—relieved, grateful, foolishly happy.

Only later did she understand the truth.

Rowan hadn’t softened because he felt remorse.

He had softened because her guilt had inconvenienced him.

He never cared about her pain—only his own comfort.

~Flashback off~