Esme freed her arm from his grasp the moment she realized he was still holding onto her. But before she could take a step back, he seized her by her shoulders, forcing her to face him.

"Esme… it's really you," he breathed as he stared at her face, disbelief and emotions clashing in his voice, but Esme only felt irritated by his lingering touch.

"Would you kindly let go of me?" she asked, her voice cold, calm and cutting, with an edge he had never heard from her before. He didn't seem to register how serious her words were.

The moment her scent reached him, another faint but unmistakable scent lingered beneath it. It wasn't hers, neither was it his. It was something else, or rather, someone else's scent washing all over her.

His relief curdled.

To confirm his dreadful suspicion, his gaze dropped to her neck, and his face went pale when he realized his own mate had already been marked and claimed by someone else. Someone who wasn't him.

"You have a mate?" he rasped, his voice low and taut with disbelief. His expression shifted almost immediately, darkening so quickly that Esme instinctively tensed.

"How… how is that possible?" His grip on her shoulder tightened. "How can you be bound to someone else?"

"Excuse me?" Esme stepped back, dislodging his hand from her shoulders. Her eyes snapped to his with a spark of incredulity, as though he'd just uttered the most absurd question in existence.

She had never expected to see him again– never wanted to if she were to be more honest. The memory of once being promised to him felt distant to her now, like a tale she no longer recognized as her own. She had forgotten what it meant to be destined for another… until Donovan.

The idea of belonging to anyone else was now revolting. Like a curse. And if it hadn't been for Rhyne's rejection on the night of Finnian's transformation, she might still be shackled to that terrible fate.

Donovan had freed her, by doing what Rhyne never had the courage to do.

"Esme–" he started.

"It's Luna Esme," she corrected coolly, her tone leaving no room for interpretation. There was no hesitation in her voice this time, no flicker of the woman who had softened at the sound of his voice, the moment they both spotted each other across the room that night.

She caught the way his eyes swept over her, slow and disbelieving, as if trying to reconcile the woman before him with the one he assumed he used to know.

"You've changed… so much," he murmured, almost to himself. There was a tremor in his voice, a weight of unspoken regret hovering between them. But Esme had no space left for half-hearted confessions or tired pleas.

Not today.

"If you'll excuse me," she said, already poised to move past him and making it clear that she was not in the mood to have any kind of depressing discussion with him. "I'm expected elsewhere."

"Wait," he stepped into her path before she could leave. His expression was desperate now in a way that stunned Esme. "Listen to what I have to say, okay? You have no idea how much I've been punishing myself for my own selfish mistakes. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness for all the humiliation I've caused you– I wouldn't dare ask for it– but if there's any chance to fix what we had… even a sliver of it, please, let me try."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Alpha Rhyne," Esme replied, her voice calm and a smile forming on her lips. "Because if something between us was truly broken, I assure you– I'd feel it. We were never meant to be."

Her gaze flicked over his shoulder, noting the guards he'd brought with him. They stood a few paces back, rigid and watchful, like wolves awaiting command. Her brow arched slightly, unimpressed by the silent show of dominance.

"How is your wife?" She asked suddenly, catching Rhyne off guard. "She must have delivered your baby by now. I hope she's faring well in the midst of all this chaos."

At her well-wishes, Rhyne's expression faltered even more. His eyes dropped, and his shoulders automatically tensed. "That.. she deceived me," he said at last. "The child wasn't mine."

There was an awkward pause.

Esme almost smiled– almost. It wasn't joy that stirred in her chest, but something far darker and colder. She didn't know if she should feel pity for him– or if she simply enjoyed watching him squirm for more of her attention because the woman he took in ended up betraying him at the end of the day.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, her words smooth and distant. "But as you can see, I was on my way to meet someone important when you stopped me. I won't keep him waiting."

And with that, she stepped past him without looking back, her footsteps unhurried and confident. Rhyne could only watch her go, and his fingers curled into a tight fist at his side. The frustration in him boiled dangerously close to the surface.

He had scoured every corner of the kingdom for her. Day after day, he had questioned anyone who might've known something, but all doors remained close, and peoples tongues silent. Not even the one responsible for his failure, Dahmer, could be found. Now, after all that endless searching, he'd finally found his lost mate again. And he couldn't– wouldn't– let her go. That mistake he made would not be repeated all over again.

"Esme! Where are you going?" he called, his voice catching on desperation. He spun around to follow her, his hand already stretched forward to pull her back.

But before he could even touch her, something serpentine and dark snaked around his ankle. He barely had time to register what it was before he was yanked violently off the ground, his body hoisted into the air and flung without mercy. A heartbeat later, he crashed into the ocean with a resounding splash.

Esme gasped at the sight, and her hands flew to her mouth in shock.

She turned to Donovan who hadn't moved from where he stood. He remained calm and composed, as the shadowy cords– thin as spider silk but far more lethal– slithered back into his fingertips. Of course, he was the only one capable of pulling such a stunt.

"Alpha!" Rhyne's men cried out, immediately rushing to the shoreline. Panic surged among them, and everyone knew Alpha Rhyne couldn't swim well in rough waters. If he were to die from this, it would be undoubted pinned on Donovan.

The culprit in question didn't even glance their way. Instead, his attention remained solely fixed on Esme.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked quietly when she reached his side. His voice was steady, but his hand, when it held hers, was firm and possessively grounding.

Esme had expected some kind of interrogation. A jealous demand even. She never told him that she once had a mate who rejected her, so her history with Alpha Rhyne remained unknown to him. However, he didn't seem interested at all to know how why he was bothering her. But immediately labelled him as the one in the wrong, which wasn't a lie.

She shook her head, still slightly breathless, and he nodded. With a simple, protective gesture, he drew her closer until she was standing beside him.

"From now on," he murmured, "you're sticking with me."

There was no room for debate in his question, and Esme didn't offer one. She only leaned into the security of his presence without protest.

Meanwhile, Alpha Rhyne had been dragged to the rocks for safety. He sputtered seawater and gasped for breath. Soaked and furious by the humiliation, he shoved his guards away as soon he was upright.

"Get your hands off me!" He snapped, his teeth clenched and his voice raw with fury. But when he looked up, all the fight in him dulled at the sight before him.

Esme– his mate– was standing with another man. And not just any man, but the cursed Alpha himself.

His chest tightened when he watched her smile at the man who held her close. The earlier glow on her face suddenly made sense, and it hit him with brutal clarity.

He's never seen her smile like that– if ever. Now he knew who was responsible for the brightness in her expression, the warmth in her eyes. It wasn't him. It had never been him.

This was his punishment– for foolishly rejecting her when she needed him most, for pushing her away and pretending he wouldn't regret it. But regret had come, and it tasted bitter on his tongue. In the end, it wasn't Esme who lost anything.

It was him.

Their eyes met for the briefest moment, and Donovan, ever the shadowed threat, offered him a subtle smirk- one that barely curled his lips, yet seared through Rhyne like a flame. No one else seemed to notice it, but to Rhyne, it was a challenge, a mocking provocation.

He took a step forward– his impulse coiling like a spring inside him– but he halted as the sound of steel unsheathing echoed around him. Dozens of weapons, gleaming in the sun, were drawn in unison. Every guard, every sailor, every soul at the port belonged to Donovan. Rhyne's men stood tensed at his back, outnumbered and surrounded.

The entire port was filled with people who worked for Donovan, and he wondered why he was only realizing that now.

"Are you aware the black river is spreading?" he said to Donovan, refusing to step any closer. "It's reckless to take her into the sea right now. The black river is clearly poisoned, and you're putting her life at risk."

Donovan tilted his head slightly, considering Rhyne's words with an air of detached amusement. His voice, when it came, was calm and dangerous.

"First of all," he said coolly. "What I choose to do is nowhere near none of your concern. Secondly" –his hand slipped behind Esme's back in a gesture that felt both possessive and protective– "my remarkable mate is more than capable of making her own choices. She's not being taken anywhere out of her will. She's coming because she wants to."

His smile then sharpened, losing all trace of warmth.

"So do yourself a favor and walk away while you still can. Because if you die by my hand here, I will burn your pack to ash and strip it of everything you've ever held dear. Think very carefully about this, Alpha Rhyne. Choose whether your pride is worth more than the loss it promised."