Chapter 74 — The Alpha’s Command
The heavy doors of the ballroom slammed against the walls as Giselle burst through them, her breath hitching as the chaos hit her like a wave.
The celebration had descended into pure pandemonium.
Growls, snarls, and the clash of fists and claws echoed through the massive hall. Pack members screamed and scattered across the marble floor, knocking over tables, chairs, and decorations as warriors clashed in every corner of the room.
At the far end of the ballroom, Rowan stood on the stage, frozen in place like a statue carved from stone. His eyes—wild, confused, and sharp with tension—darted across the room as if trying to make sense of what was unfolding before him.
And Rhea—
She still clung to him, her arms wrapped around his like chains, her shoulder pressed to his side, as though she could *hold* him in place with nothing more than skin-on-skin contact. Her grip was tight, possessive, her expression strained and alert, as if willing him not to slip through her fingers.
Giselle's hands curled into fists at her sides.
Just beyond the crowd, Charlie fought viciously, her sleek form weaving between opponents with deadly precision. She snarled as she took one to the ground, her movements filled with purpose and fury. Luther stood close to her, a whirlwind of dark strength, his strikes measured but brutal as he kept their flank protected.
And Avella—
The witch had shed her usual calm, her hands moving rapidly through the air as she cast defensive wards, a glowing sigil blazing in front of her that knocked two attackers backward. Her face was drawn in concentration, lips moving in silent chants that sent invisible pulses of energy rippling through the crowd.
But even their combined strength wasn’t enough to hold off the overwhelming numbers.
Giselle’s eyes locked on Charlie just as three warriors closed in on her, fangs bared and claws gleaming. Charlie pivoted to face one of them, her mouth curling into a snarl, but the other two flanked her fast.
One lunged, claws extended—aimed for her throat.
Giselle’s scream caught in her lungs. She moved instinctively, ready to leap forward even if it meant throwing herself into the fray—
But then Rowan’s voice boomed through the air like a thunderclap.
“ENOUGH!”
It wasn’t just loud—it was *Alpha-born*, laced with command, primal and unrelenting.
The effect was instant.
Everybody in the room froze, motion halted mid-swing, claws suspended, growls caught in throats. Even the Elders' men, driven by orders and fury, stilled under the weight of his dominance.
Silence crashed over the room like a heavy tide.
Giselle’s heart slammed in her chest, her gaze snapping to Rowan.
He was staring down from the stage, his chest heaving, muscles tense beneath his shirt. But it was his *eyes*—those piercing, glowing eyes—that stole her breath. They had shifted, no longer clouded or vacant. They were focused—locked in fury.
On *them*.
On the three warriors who had dared raise their claws against his sister.
His voice cut through the silence, low and dangerous. “Step. Away. From her.”
The warriors obeyed immediately, backing off like shadows retreating from the light.
Charlie stood unmoving, her breathing ragged, her eyes wide as she looked up at her brother. Behind her, Luther lowered his stance, placing a steadying hand on her arm.
Rowan’s stare swept across the room slowly, each movement deliberate, anchoring the silence with his presence.
No one moved. No one *dared*.
Even Rhea’s hold on his arm slackened as his aura expanded like a storm cloud, thick and crackling in the air.
And finally—*finally*—he turned his gaze to Giselle.
And the room might as well have disappeared.
Rowan’s gaze didn’t falter as he stared down at Giselle, the silence between them screaming with more force than the chaos that had just consumed the room.
Without tearing his eyes away, he gave a single, commanding word. “Come.”
Gasps echoed through the room as the crowd shifted, heads turning, eyes wide.
Giselle’s breath caught in her throat.
All around her, the crowd shifted like leaves in a storm, parting to make way for her. But her eyes stayed locked on the man on the stage. Her mate.
Her torment.
Her hope.
Rhea clung to his side like a lifeline, her hand grasping his arm, her voice cracking with urgency. “Rowan—what are you doing?” Her hand tightened on his arm, panic creeping into her voice. “You can’t mean to—”
He held up a hand, stopping her words midair. His tone was quiet, but there was steel beneath it. “Enough, Rhea.” His voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and final.
Giselle flinched. Not from the sound of him, but from the chill in his tone. There was no warmth in it. No familiarity. No love.
He didn’t even look at her the way he used to. Not with longing. Not with hunger. Not with that aching softness she’d memorized in the quiet moments between battle and bond.
“She’s the reason all of this is happening,” he said coldly. “So I’ll see for myself what’s so special about her.”
Her heart shattered.
Right there.
In front of everyone.
The words tore through her like claws.
But she didn’t run.
She didn’t fall apart.
She lifted her chin, even as her legs trembled beneath her. Even as the weight of humiliation and grief pressed against her ribs like a vice.
She stepped forward.
One foot in front of the other, walking through the parted sea of packmates who stared at her with a mix of confusion, pity, and awe. Their whispers were white noise. None of it mattered.
Only him.
The stage rose before her like a mountain, and still she climbed.
Her chest ached where the mark throbbed—Rowan’s mark. Angry and raw on her skin, a stark reminder of what they shared. What they were meant to be.
What he’d forgotten.
She reached the final step and paused, her eyes locking with his.
His gaze was hard. Searching. Distant.
She searched his face for a flicker of recognition. A trace of love. Of him.
But all she saw was the man he’d become—cold, confused, and blind to what stood before him.
Still, she moved closer until barely a breath separated them.
The pain of his rejection sat in her chest like a boulder, but she refused to crumble beneath it.
Not now.
Not when her mate stood on the edge of a cliff he didn’t even know he was falling from.
Not when he needed her the most.
Even if he didn’t remember it yet.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
