Chapter 10: Ethan’s POV

The rain hammered against the glass dome of the abandoned greenhouse, filling the air with a nerve-shredding clatter.

I paced the flagstones like a caged animal. As a major in the Royal Guard, I should have been running perimeter sweeps through the Black Pine Forest, or sitting in a warm tent working through the next season's troop deployments. Instead, I stood here with two buttons on my silver-clasped uniform done up wrong, every muscle in my body wound tight.

I was waiting for her—in this crumbling greenhouse on the fault line between the Upper City and the Lower.

With every breath, I tried to pull her scent from the damp earth and rain-soaked air—that one fragrance that could settle whatever storm was raging inside me.

Then a branch snapped somewhere behind the greenhouse.

My right hand dropped to the hilt of my sword. A heartbeat later, the smell hit me: white roses in early morning, dew-sweet and clean, cutting straight through the rain.

"Claire…"

I spun around. A figure in a dark blue cloak stumbled through the iron door. She hadn't even managed to pull her hood up properly. Her golden hair—usually so carefully arranged—was plastered to her face by the rain, soaked and tangled.

I crossed the distance in a few strides and pulled her into my arms.

"God, you're freezing." I wrapped my cloak around her. My chin came to rest on the top of her head, and I breathed her in greedily.

She was my anchor. With her in my arms, the suffocating politics of Silver Crown, my father's perpetually severe expression, the blood feud grinding between our two families—all of it seemed to fall away, shut out beyond the greenhouse glass.

But I felt it almost immediately. Something was wrong.

She was trembling. Worse, her scent—normally clean and sweet—carried an edge of something bitter and sharp.

"What happened?" I cupped her face in my hands. Her light brown eyes, which always held such quiet warmth, were brimming with tears.

"Ethan…" Claire's voice broke. Her fingers twisted into the front of my jacket. "It's over for us. Father made his decision tonight, in the study. He's—he's arranging a marriage for me."

My heart dropped.

"Who? Who does he want to marry you off to?"

"The Garrett heir." She was barely holding herself together. "Father needs the Garrett family's money and their underground wolf army in the Lower City. It's all about shoring up the opposition."

"Garrett? That nouveau-riche thug who runs the casinos and the black market? The one who gets his kicks torturing low-ranking wolves?!"

Something inside me snapped.

Had old man Wren lost his mind? To take down the Alpha King, he was willing to throw his gentlest daughter into a monster's bed?

"Ethan—if Father finds out we've still been meeting, he'll chain me in the dungeon with silver. And your father—if General Hale ever learns you've fallen for someone from the Wren family, he'll strip your rank and cast you out himself."

Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water, dousing the rage.

She was right. Family.

In this capital city, Hale and Wren stood at opposite ends of every spectrum. My father was the blade sworn to the crown; her father was the viper coiled beneath it. Our love had been a losing hand from the very first day—the kind that always ended in blood.

"We can't just let this happen, Claire. I won't let that man lay a single finger on you." I clenched my jaw, fighting down the urge for violence.

"It's too late, Ethan. The invitations are already being printed in secret. The engagement banquet is two weeks away. It's done." Her tears ran down and fell onto the back of my hand, burning like embers. "I slipped out tonight to see you one last time. Forget me. Go be the son your family is proud of."

Forget her.

I looked at the woman in front of me—the kindness in her—and the memories came in a rush: the first time we sheltered from the rain in this very greenhouse, the first time we shared our scent, the first kiss.

It was only then that I understood. The major's insignia on my chest, the Hale family name, the inheritance, the honor—faced with the terror of losing her, none of it was worth a damn.

If this was what order demanded—that I stand by and watch the woman I loved be bartered off to a brute—then order could go to hell.

"No." I drew a slow breath and took her face in both hands.

Claire went still, staring at me.

"I said no." Every instinct I had as an Alpha made the choice in that moment. "Listen to me. Two weeks—before the engagement banquet—I'll find a way to get travel papers and enough coin to reach the South."

Claire's eyes went wide. She pressed a hand over her mouth. "Ethan… are you out of your mind? You mean—"

"We leave. We walk away from Silver Crown, away from this whole rotten aristocracy." I held her tightly. "We'll lose the protection of our families. We'll be branded as deserters—rogues without a pack, lower than anything in the Lower City. The city guard will hunt us for the rest of our lives, and we'll spend every day of it under false names."

I lowered my head and pressed my lips to hers.

"Will you come with me, Claire?" I murmured against her mouth. "Leave all of it behind, and run with a man who has nothing left to offer?"

Claire closed her eyes. The tears came again, harder than before. But this time, she didn't pull away. Her arms came up around my neck, and she kissed me back.

"As long as you're with me." The words broke softly in her throat.

In that moment, I knew I had betrayed my family. I had betrayed my father. But looking down at the woman in my arms, I had only one thought: if this was the path to hell, I would walk it gladly—so long as she was beside me.

As long as my plan held.

First, I had to go home. I needed my officer's insignia—without it, there was no way to file for exit papers from the city.