~ RONAN ~

Fucking hell.

Whatever that bastard thinks he’s here for, it can’t be anything good.

Ethan and I never grew up like normal cousins. The fucker has always wanted everything I’ve had, and we’ve fought tooth and nail over the slightest things for as long as I can remember.

Deep down, I know he has his eyes on the throne. He’s always had his eyes on the throne. And now that I’m Alpha, and in a position of power, I’m sure he’s finally come to make his move.

’Fucking cousin,’ Kael growls from deep within me, his voice carrying a warning that only I can hear. ’I can smell his ambition from here. He reeks of it.’

Roselle insists on coming with me to see my so-called cousin. If only she knew what a complete dickhead Ethan is, what kind of manipulative, power-hungry bastard he’s always been. I don’t want to be the kind of man who says, "I hate him, so you have to hate him too." As much as I can’t stand Ethan, he’s still family. He still carries the Blackthorn surname.

But that doesn’t mean I trust him. Not for a second.

We walk into the royal court together, Roselle’s hand resting in mine. I can feel her curiosity, her interest in meeting this cousin she’s heard bits and pieces about. She doesn’t understand yet what Ethan represents, he’s a threat to everything we’re building together.

Ethan is standing in the center of the hall, dressed in expensive clothing that screams old money and entitlement. His dark hair is perfectly styled, his expression arranged into a smirk that makes my blood boil. He’s tall, muscular, and blessed with Blackthorn good looks that women seem to fall for without realizing what a monster lies beneath the surface.

He’s also a snake.

"Hey, brother," Ethan drawls. "Do you miss me? Because if you don’t... I do."

His gaze immediately darts to where Roselle stands beside me, and I feel Kael surge forward with a possessiveness that’s almost painful.

’Mine,’ he snarls. ’She’s ours. This fucker better not even look at her wrong or I’m tearing his throat out.’

Ethan’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in Roselle’s appearance. His nostrils flare, and I watch as recognition flashes across his face. He’s assimilating something, processing information that’s just come to him.

"Well, well," he says smoothly, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Aren’t you a lovely creature? What’s your name, beautiful?"

Every muscle in my body goes rigid.

"Take your eyes off my bride and tell me what the fuck you came here for," I say coldly, pulling Roselle closer to my side. My hand wraps around her waist, and I make sure Ethan can see the possessive gesture. She’s mine. Every inch of her belongs to me, and I’m not going to let him forget that.

He smirks running his hands through his hair.

"Ah, so you’ve finally found yourself a mate," he says casually, his eyes still fixed on Roselle despite my warning. "How delightful. I’m sure she’ll make a lovely addition to the pack."

"Ethan," I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I’m only going to say this once. If you come an inch closer to her, if you even look at her the wrong way, I’m cutting off your fucking head. Do you understand me?"

Ethan laughs, a sound that grates against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"So protective," he coos mockingly. "How sweet. But I think you’d like to hear what I came for before you start making threats you might not be able to keep."

He circles around us slowly, like a predator stalking prey.

"I’ve come to challenge you for the throne," Ethan announces, and the words hit like a bomb in the quiet of the hall. "You see, brother, I’ve been thinking. You’ve had the leadership position for years now, and what have you accomplished? Nothing of real significance. No heirs. No sons to continue the bloodline."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"And your bride here... well, she seems lovely, but there’s no guarantee she’ll give you a son either. No guarantee she’ll live long enough to do it, actually. Curses can be so unpredictable."

The implication is clear. He knows about the curse. He knows about the threat to our lives.

And he’s using it as leverage.

Rage—pure, white-hot rage—floods through me, and I feel Kael pushing against my skin, demanding to be released.

’Let me at him,’ Kael snarls, his voice a growl that makes the very air vibrate. ’Let me tear him apart. Let me show him what happens when he threatens our mate.’

"You wouldn’t dare," I say through gritted teeth, my hand instinctively moving to the knife at my hip. "I would like to see you try to challenge me, Ethan. I would genuinely like to see you try."

But Ethan is already continuing, his voice taking on a threatening quality that makes my skin crawl.

"If you don’t do something about your current... situation," he says with a smirk, "if you don’t produce an heir soon, the throne is going to be taken away from the Blackthorn family entirely. It will be given to someone else who doesn’t know the effort that was made to build this legacy. Someone who doesn’t have our blood, our history, our claim."

He steps closer, and I feel Kael surging forward with murderous intent.

’One more step,’ Kael threatens. ’One more fucking step and I’m ending this bastard.’

"So I suggest you get your bride pregnant soon," Ethan continues, his eyes flicking over Roselle in a way that makes my skin crawl. "Or I’ll be taking what’s rightfully mine."

Then, as if to add insult to injury, he grins and winks directly at Roselle, a gesture so brazenly possessive and suggestive that I nearly lose my mind.

The moment stretches, tense and explosive, and I’m about to move, about to do something I might regret, when the doors to the hall swing open.

A scent so intoxicating fills my senses that my head snaps toward the doorway. A glowing red thread stretches between me and whoever is standing on the other side of the door.

Mate! Kael surges forward, practically prancing with excitement.

My eyes immediately dart to Roselle, expecting the thread to be connected to her.

But it isn’t. It’s coming from the doorway.