Chapter 10

Trophy of spite

The walk back from the border gates to the main estate was spent in a heavy, suffocating silence.My heart was still hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird, echoing the sharp rhythm of my bare feet against the cold, polished stone paths of Midnight Pack. The night air was crisp, carrying the dark scents of pine, crushed earth, and evening dew, but inside my chest, a violent storm was raging.

I had stood up to Jaxon.

For the first time in seven years, I hadn't cowed under his cold, commanding gaze. I hadn’t winced at the hard, possessive tone that used to make my knees tremble. I had rejected his claim in front of his elite guards, in front of Zayn, and under the gaze of the entire night sky. Deep within me, Ember was resting near the surface of my skin, her spirit humming with a primal, quiet triumph.

For seven long years, my wolf and I had been made to feel small, invisible, and utterly disposable. In seven minutes at the iron gate, we had torn Jaxon’s illusion of control to shreds.

Yet, the moment the heavy oak doors of the Alpha estate closed behind us, shutting out the dark forest and the lingering ghost of Obsidian Moon, my legs gave out. The sheer adrenaline that had kept my spine straight vanished all at once, leaving behind a hollow, bone-deep exhaustion.

Before my knees could hit the marble floor, strong hands caught me.Zayn didn’t say a word. Without hesitation, he scooped me into his arms, pulling me up against the solid warmth of his chest. His breath was warm against my temple, his heart beating in a slow, steady rhythm that immediately anchored my spiraling thoughts.

"I didn't back down," I whispered, my fingers clutching tightly to the lapel of his structured black suit jacket, right beside the silver wolf-head pin that glinted under the chandeliers. He had been wearing that sharp, formal suit all day through endless council meetings and border watch, but right now, his chest rose and fell against mine with a raw, protective pulse.

My voice sounded small, raw, and choked with unshed tears.

"No," Zayn said, his voice low, deep, and steady as he carried me up the grand staircase. "You stood your ground, Raven. You shattered his hold on you."

He didn't take me back to the guest wing. Instead, he pushed open the heavy double doors to his private study—a massive, warm room filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the rich scent of old paper, cedar, and leather, and a roaring fireplace that cast long, golden shadows across the fur rug.

He set me down gently in a deep leather armchair by the hearth. He immediately knelt on one knee in front of me, taking both of my cold, trembling hands into his broad, warm palms. He had stood right beside me at the border—he knew Jaxon hadn't laid a finger on me physically.

But his golden eyes searched my face, sharp with concern, entirely stripped of the icy Alpha mask he wore for the rest of the world.

"You went completely cold out there," he said softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of my hand. "Talk to me, Raven. What did seeing him do to you?"

"I... I don't know," I breathed, letting out a shaky exhale as the heat from the hearth began to thaw the numbness in my skin. "He didn't touch me, but just hearing his voice again... why, Zayn? Why now?"

I looked down at him, my brow furrowing as the confusion that had been brewing inside me for days finally broke open.

"He abandoned me. He left me in a hospital bed in his own territory for two days without coming to check on me. He let Risa sleep in his bed, he humiliated me at the Choosing, he gave her my crown... He spent seven years treating me like I was a burden he was forced to carry. So why did he come all the way to your border tonight acting like I’m something he can’t live without?"

Zayn didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his sharp cheekbone. He looked down at our joined hands, his silence suddenly feeling heavier than the pitch-black forest outside.

"Zayn?" I pressed, pulling one of my hands back slightly. "You know something. You've known why he kept me around, haven't you?"

Zayn let out a slow, heavy breath and stood up. He walked over to the fireplace, resting one hand against the dark stone mantel as he stared into the dancing flames. The flickering light caught the gold in his eyes, making them look ancient and burdened.

"I hoped I would never have to tell you this," Zayn began, his voice gravelly and low. "I hoped you would just move on, heal, and leave his ghost behind. But if you're going to stay here, if you're going to be safe, you deserve the truth about the man you gave seven years of your life to."

My stomach churned into a hard, cold knot. "What truth?"

Zayn turned to face me, leaning back against the mantel, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Nine years ago, before you and Jaxon were officially paired at the Choosing Ceremony, there was a dispute over the Shadow Ridge territory."

I blinked, trying to follow his words through the fog in my mind. "Shadow Ridge? The sacred forest along the eastern border?"

"The very same," Zayn said, nodding slowly.

"It was rich in raw moonstone deposits and sacred medicinal herbs—land that both Obsidian Moon and Midnight Pack had claimed for generations. The Regional Council decided to settle the border dispute through ancient tradition: a duel of future Alphas. Jaxon fought for his father. I fought for mine."

I held my breath. "Who won?"

"I did," Zayn said simply, his tone devoid of pride, filled only with a grim, heavy reality.

"I stripped him of his weapon in front of every regional Alpha, every elder, and every high-ranking pack member in the territory. It was the first time Jaxon Bloodworth had ever suffered a public, undeniable defeat. His pride was shattered. His father publicly shamed him for losing the ridge to me."

"What does a territorial duel have to do with me?" I asked, though a sickening feeling was already beginning to take root in the pit of my stomach.

Zayn’s eyes met mine, intense and dripping with raw regret. "Two weeks after that duel, I visited the Obsidian Moon market square while scouting the border. That was the day I saw you, Raven. You were sixteen, buying herbs for your mother, completely oblivious to the politics around you. I couldn't take my eyes off you. I watched you, and for the first time in my life, an Alpha’s instinct told me to protect someone."

He took a step closer to my chair, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper. "Jaxon was watching me from the balcony of the pack house that day. He saw the way I looked at you. He saw that the man who had just taken his land and humiliated him had a soft spot for a quiet Beta girl."

The air in the room suddenly felt impossibly thin.

"At the Choosing two years later," Zayn continued, each word landing like a physical blow to my chest, "Jaxon didn't step forward to claim you because the Moon Goddess sang to his soul. He didn't claim you because he loved you, or because he saw your kindness. He claimed you because he realized you were the one thing I wanted that he could legally take from me."

Tears sprang to my eyes, hot and fast, blurring the sight of the roaring fire.

"He claimed you as a trophy of spite," Zayn said softly, the words slicing through the silence like a cold blade. "To Jaxon, keeping you by his side for seven years wasn't about love. It was a daily reminder to me. Every time he brought you to an Inter-Pack Summit, every time he stood beside you, he was sending me a message: You took my land, but I took the girl you wanted. He treated you like trash because he didn't care about you, Raven. But he refused to let you go because losing you to me meant losing to me a second time."

A quiet, choked sob escaped my throat.

Seven years.

Seven years of crying myself to sleep. Seven years of begging for a shred of affection. Seven years of enduring Risa’s cruelty, my mother’s neglect, my brother’s indifference, and Jaxon’s ice-cold distance. I had spent my entire youth believing I was broken—believing I wasn't pretty enough, loud enough, or strong enough to earn my mate's heart.

And all along, I hadn't been unlovable. I had just been a game piece.