MAEVE'S POV
[ONE MONTH AGO]
I knew that look in his eyes. He was gauging my reaction, studying me like a chess piece, waiting for my next move.
I should have expected this. He must have mistaken my silence for agreement, because he pressed on.
"Once you establish yourself as an unrivaled healer, it'll be easy to gather intel. You can falsify evidence against Ivan's leadership—weaknesses, corruption, anything that will help our cause." His voice lowered, lethal. "And… I need you to retrieve a particular ledger called The Black Book."
My breath hitched. "The Black Book?"
"It's a detailed record of every crime and cover-up committed by the late Alpha King. If we get our hands on it, we'll have the leverage we need to bring down Ivan and take the throne before he's crowned."
I stared at him.
I could see it now—his plans, his strategy, the years of careful maneuvering.
And now, it all hinged on me.
"I don't know, Devon." My voice was softer now, uncertainty creeping in. "This sounds risky. What if I get caught? What happens to me then? What happens to Asha?"
Devon's jaw tensed.
"You won't get caught."
He reached out, cupping my face, his forehead pressing gently against mine.
The last inch of space between us disappeared.
His voice softened. "And just in case things ever spiral out of control, I swear by the goddess to put an end to the plan immediately. No questions asked. No hesitations. You have my word, cara'nia."
My throat tightened.
How far had he gone to orchestrate all of this? Exactly how long had he been planning this? It had to have been longer than the five years we'd been together.
I swallowed thickly, my voice barely above a whisper. "How would I even reach you?"
"I've arranged for a special burner phone." His answer was too easy.
Too prepared.
This wasn't just strategy. It was obsession.
It hit me then—Devon had been waiting for this moment.
For years.
And now, he had found a way to get Asha and me involved.
I sighed. "I wish Asha didn't have to come along."
My voice was small. Tired.
I could feel it happening—the slow, inevitable slip.
I was caving.
"Bringing him along is the only sure way to stop the wedding," Devon murmured, wrapping his arms around me.
His touch was warm. Familiar.
But I could feel something else pressing against me.
His cock.
It throbbed against my thigh.
The heat in his voice darkened.
"If everyone sees who Asha really is, Ivan will have no reason to go through with the wedding. His heir will already exist." He lowered his lips to my ear. "While he's busy reeling from the illusion of his shiny new heir… we'll take the throne out from under him."
"And Dark Wind?" I pressed. "If you succeed in conquering Ash Creek, what happens to our life here?"
Devon's grip tightened on my waist.
"Dark Wind will always be ours," he assured me. "But Ash Creek can also belong to us—you, me, and Asha. With Ivan still without an heir, now is the perfect time to stake our claim and take back what's rightfully ours. Think about it, Maeve. If this works, we could rule both Ash Creek and Dark Wind, securing an impressive legacy for Asha."
I let his words sink in.
I still felt uneasy about his plans, but he was doing all of this for us—for our family.
If this was his way of ensuring our future, why shouldn't I play my part?
Besides, it was the perfect opportunity to finally sever my mate bond with Ivan and be done with the wrath curse once and for all.
Most called it the Wrath Bond.
To me, it had been nothing but a living nightmare—a constant reminder of a connection I wanted severed.
A curse that followed me into my new life, affecting my every move, tainting even the most intimate moments.
Now that I was mated to Devon, ending the bond with Ivan was the only way forward.
And honestly? It wouldn't hurt to watch Lydia, Ivan, and Serena suffer for everything they had done.
The thought alone gave me clarity.
With these convictions in mind, I finally found the courage to make my decision.
"Fine. I'll do it. All of it."
Devon sucked in a sharp breath. His brown gaze burned into me, filled with something new.
Adoration. Or maybe lust.
His voice dropped to a low, husky octave. "You're sure?"
I nodded. "No looking back."
Devon's lips tilted into a knowing smirk. "No looking back."
"Goddess," he rasped, his breath hot against my lips, "how the hell did I manage to snag a wolf like you?"
His lips crushed against mine, sinking me into a deep, desperate kiss.
I melted into him, my fingers threading through his hair as he devoured my mouth.
He scooped me up, carrying me to the oak table in the corner. Not once did he break the fervent connection between us.
The moment my back hit the tabletop, Devon pushed my dress up, his fingers rough against my thighs.
I fumbled at his belt, my fingers trembling with urgency.
Finally, his trousers came undone, and his cock sprang free.
My breath hitched.
Devon didn't hesitate. In one swift, punishing thrust, he slammed into me, filling me to the hilt.
A strangled moan tore from my lips.
Within seconds, we were fucking like animals atop the desk, the room filled with the wet, obscene sounds of our sex.
I dug my nails into his biceps, arching into him, meeting every forceful thrust with equal desperation.
The pressure built fast, tightening in my core.
I was so close—so achingly close.
But then, like a cruel twist of fate, it happened.
Ivan.
Goddess, not now.
A sharp wave of nausea rolled through me.
More images flooded my mind. Images of how he used to fuck me. How his hands had gripped my thighs. How his voice had sounded rough against my skin.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against it, but the memories only magnified in intensity.
I hated this.
I hated that even now, even after five years, my wolf still played these cruel tricks on me.
Fucking Wrath Bond.
I had read about it during my studies as a healer.
It was a bitch of a curse.
A destined mate's last form of control.
Even when I didn't want him—even when I had already chosen Devon—it forced Ivan's presence into my most intimate moments.
It made me remember.
It made me ache for something I had no desire to want.
Devon groaned, gripping my ass, thrusting harder.
He was completely lost in the moment. Oblivious. To the images haunting me. To the war raging inside me.
I clenched my jaw, biting down hard on my bottom lip.
Don't you dare say his name, Maeve.
The pressure built higher, higher, but it wasn't because of Devon.
I hated myself for it. I hated my traitorous wolf.
I hated Ivan Cross.
And so, I did the only thing I knew how to do.
I faked my orgasm.