The Betrayed Princess Rising Chapter 6

Lylah's POV

The bandage wrapped around my leg burned as if a silver pressed to skin, pulsing with every heartbeat. After the incident, they rushed me to the infirmary.

The healer stitched the torn flesh and insisted I stay under observation, warning of infection and delayed healing. But I refused. I wanted my room.

I had barely settled onto the edge of the bed when the door flew open.

“Lylah!” Rowan stormed in.

His expression shattered the moment he saw me sitting there, pale and shaking despite myself.

He crossed the room in two strides and dropped to one knee before me, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch.

“How are you?” he demanded softly. “Does it still hurt?”

“It doesn’t."

His jaw tightened. “Don’t lie to me. The healer said it needed four stitches. You don’t have to be strong all the time, Lylah.”

Something in his voice pulled me back into those hard years we had survived together.

“It isn’t just this wound that hurts,” I said.

His hand, resting on my thigh, stilled.

Rowan pulled it away as if burned, his gaze dropping to the floor, guilt thick in the air.

“You will have justice,” His voice solemn, Alpha-cold. “I swear it on my name. Hector has been stripped of his position and he will never hold power in my Pack again. The council, the College, Hector himself, will issue a formal apology to you.”

I said nothing.

Rowan knew that wasn’t what I wanted.

“Only them?” I asked.

“Lylah.” He took my hand again, his grip firm. “Hector was the one who stole your work, not Cora. She didn’t even know the speech was yours.”

Of course.

I withdrew my hand and stood, ignoring the sharp protest from my leg.

I stared past him, at the wall, at anything that wasn’t the man I had once trusted with my life.

“I agreed to let Cora give the speech to help you,” Rowan continued, his hand settling on my shoulder. “For five years you’ve never truly rested. You took care of me and my Pack, then sacrificed your sleep and your health just to earn your place at Lunar Grace. I think it would be better if someone else handled this speech.”

His voice softened, almost pleading.

“I invited Cora and your parents to preserve the alliance between our Packs. She arrived without time to prepare a draft. Consider this helping your sister, alright?"

He wasn’t wrong.

For five years, I had given everything.

When the silver trap broke Rowan’s leg and the world branded him a crippled Alpha, when his Pack splintered and allies turned their backs, I stayed. I searched across territories for a healer willing to treat him for a fraction of the cost.

When his Pack’s funds were poured into the Corlis Prime project, leaving nothing for food, furs, or firewood, I paid for it all myself.

I fed him. Bathed him. Held him through the nights when pain drove him half-mad.

I did everything to see him stand again.

And when he did—when his strength returned and his Pack began to rise—Rowan had sworn to me:

'I will never forget what you’ve done, Lylah. I will be the first to protect you. If anyone dares harm you, I will erase them.'

I met his gaze now.

“Rowan, you once promised you would wipe clean anyone who wronged me.”

“I did,” he said without hesitation. “And I always will.”

“But today you were the one who brought them here.” My voice trembled despite my control. “You invited them into your Pack. Into our home. Close enough to hurt me again. I want to collect that promise now.”

He hesitated.

“Lylah-"

“I don’t want Cora here.” I lifted my chin. “If I asked you to cast her out of your Pack… would you do it?”

Something dark and conflicted twisted in his ocean-blue eyes.

A sharp gasp cut through the tension. And we both turned.

Cora stood in the doorway, holding a basket of fruits, tears streaking down her face.