Chapter 52
(Raiden's POV)
The sight of Siena and Zion in intimate conversation at dawn had unleashed something primal and possessive in me.
Horace growls low, pacing inside me, claws raking against the edges of my control, “She is ours.”
But I shove the instinct down, clenching my jaw until the tension spreads through my body.
I’ve spent years denying that bond, convincing myself that choosing Lila was the right decision—for the pack, for stability, for everything that mattered.
But that brief moment, watching Siena’s face soften as she spoke to Zion, the light in her eyes as he listened with rapt attention, stirred something I had buried deep.
Focus.
I stride into the competition committee meeting, my expression unreadable, posture rigid.
Alphas and betas from the surrounding packs murmur softly as they take their seats. Lila is already there, flashing me a tight smile as I sit beside her. I nod, but my mind is elsewhere—still trapped in the echo of Siena’s laughter and the easy camaraderie she’d shared with Zion.
Traitor.
“Raiden,” Lila’s voice snaps me back, and I realize I’ve missed part of the discussion.
“We were discussing modifying the next trial,” Beta Marcus says, his gaze assessing as if he’s already noted my distraction. “Lila suggested focusing more on raw strength for the upcoming phase.”
Lila shifts closer, her hand brushing against my knee under the table. Her touch used to calm me. Now, it feels like a leash tightening around my throat.
“Strength alone isn’t a true measure of leadership,” I say before I can stop myself. My voice is calm, but I feel the subtle shift in the room. Eyes narrow, sensing the change in my stance.
Lila’s smile falters. “But brute force—”
“Brute force,” I cut her off, keeping my tone neutral, “won’t secure our borders or forge alliances. The second trial should reflect the reality of leading a pack. Strategy. Diplomacy. Adaptability.”
Lila’s fingers tighten on my leg, her nails just barely digging into my skin. But I don’t look at her. I feel the weight of the other Alphas watching, considering.
“She is no Luna!” Horace growls violelty,a and this time it takes more strength than i have to push him away.
“Very well,” Marcus says slowly, his eyes flickering between me and Lila. “We’ll proceed with the territorial negotiation challenge.”
The decision is final, and I sense the tension in Lila’s body as the meeting moves forward. I barely register the rest of the discussions. My mind is already drifting back to Siena.
Diplomatic negotiation with authorities.
Siena’s strength has never been in brute force. It’s in her mind. Her strategy. Her ability to read a room, anticipate outcomes, and outmaneuver even the most seasoned opponents. This trial plays to her strengths.
Why does that unsettle me?
The meeting ends, and I’m barely aware of Lila trailing beside me as we leave. The cool air hits me like a slap, but it does nothing to clear the fog clouding my thoughts.
“You’re distracted,” Lila murmurs, her voice softer now, almost coaxing. She turns to me, her fingers brushing over my jaw. “You’ve been different since the competition started.”
“Just stay focused,” I say, but even I don’t believe the words.
“On her.”
I freeze.
Lila’s eyes are sharp, gleaming in the moonlight as she studies me. “It’s her, isn’t it? Siena. You’ve been watching her.”
“She’s a competitor.”
Lila’s lips curve into a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You were never this concerned with her before.” Her fingers trail down my chest, her touch designed to distract, to remind me of what I chose. “Don’t let her get in your head, Raiden. She’s manipulating you.”
“She’s not—”
“Then prove it.” Her voice is velvet and steel. “Stay away from her.”
Stay away.
It’s what I should do. What I’ve done for years. And yet—
Lila’s lips meet mine, and I let it happen, let her press herself against me, her warmth pulling me into a familiar rhythm. But my wolf doesn’t respond. The kiss feels hollow, a distraction from the battle waging inside me.
When I pull back, Lila’s eyes search mine, but whatever she’s looking for, she doesn’t find it.
“Raiden,” she whispers, a note of vulnerability slipping through her usually flawless facade.
I can’t give her what she wants. Not anymore. But I don’t speak the words aloud. Instead, I murmur, “I’ll handle it.”
The lie burns as I say it, but I force myself to walk away, ignoring the ache in my chest and the furious snarl of my wolf.
The moon hangs high, casting an ethereal glow over the empty space. I shouldn’t be here. But my feet carry me forward, unbidden.
And then I see her.
Siena.
She’s alone, her movements fluid and precise as she goes through her drills. Her body moves with lethal grace, every motion a testament to her dedication. Her hair is pulled back, but a few strands have come loose, framing her face as she moves through a series of strikes with her daggers.
I should leave. I should turn around and walk away.
But I don’t.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” My voice is rough, and she freezes mid-motion. Her head turns, eyes narrowing when she sees me.
“Raiden.” Her tone is guarded, her expression unreadable.
I step closer, keeping my distance, but unable to stop myself from watching her. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
She snorts softly, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Funny. I could say the same about you.”
I hate how familiar she still feels, how easily she can unravel me with just a look.
“Why are you really here?” Siena asks softly, her gaze piercing through me.
I don’t have an answer. Or maybe I do, but I’m not ready to admit it.
“Habit,” I murmur instead, but she doesn’t buy it.
“Liar.”
A ghost of a smile touches her lips, and for a moment, I remember what it was like before everything fell apart. Before I let pride and duty push her away.
“Siena…” I take a step closer, but she lifts a hand, stopping me.
“Don’t.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but it stops me cold. “You made your choice, Raiden. And I made mine.”
My chest tightens, and for a moment, I want to tell her everything—how wrong I was, how much I regret—
But I don’t.
"I heard you want to replace Windhowl's warriors in the next tournament," she says, her eyes narrowing. "With Silverfang competitors."
"The alliance council suggested it," I reply, keeping my voice even. "They thought—"
"They thought? Or you thought?" She takes a step forward.
"The mountain course is treacherous. Silverfang has more experience with—"
"Stop." Her voice cuts like steel. "My warriors are worth ten of yours on a bad day, Raiden. We don't need your help to win this."
I feel my temper rising. This stubborn pride of hers—it's exactly what drove us apart before.
"This isn't about who's better," I say through gritted teeth. "It's about presenting a united front to the other packs."
"A united front?" She laughs, the sound sharp and brittle. "Under Silverfang's banner, you mean. While Windhowl stands in the shadows."
"Siena, be reasonable—" The familiar frustration bubbles up. "Your pride will cost your pack."
"And your interference will cost you the last of my respect," she counters. "We don't need your assistance." She crosses her arms. "My warriors are worth ten of yours on a bad day, Raiden. We don't need your help to win this."
The familiar anger ignites, burning away any lingering tenderness. This is exactly why we couldn't last—her stubborn pride, her refusal to see reason.
"This isn't about your warriors," I snap. "This is about appearances. Or have you forgotten our agreement?"
Her jaw tightens. "I haven't forgotten anything."
"Really? Because it seems you've forgotten that until our divorce is formalized, we present a united front. That was the deal."
"A united front doesn't mean Windhowl surrenders its identity," she counters. "Or its place in the tournament."
I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "And there it is. The real Siena—putting her pride before everything else. Before tradition, before logic, before the good of both our packs."
"This has nothing to do with pride—"
"It has everything to do with pride!" My voice rises, echoing in the clearing. "You'd rather risk everything than accept help from me. From the man you once claimed to love."
Her eyes flash. "Don't you dare use that against me."
"Why not? It's the truth, isn't it? You're letting your feelings about me cloud your judgment."
"And you're letting your need to control everything dictate mine." She steps closer, defiant. "My pack competes with its own warriors or not at all."
Blood pounds in my temples. This woman—this infuriating, stubborn woman—has always known exactly how to push me to the edge.
"You're making a mistake," I growl.
"It wouldn't be my first," she replies coldly. "I married you, after all."
With one sentence, she's torn open the wound and I hate her as I ever have.
