<h4>Chapter 22: Chapter 22: HUMILIATED ALPHA</h4>


    <strong>IVAN’S POV</strong>


    I tried to recall a time when I had ever been humiliated in my life, but nothing came to mind.


    Since I was young, I had always been ustomed to a level of adoration and reverence from everyone. Especially from women.


    I had a lineup of infatuated she-wolves who practically begged to remain in my presence, desperate for a moment of my attention, aching to belong to me.


    Even now, nothing had changed.


    I received unnned visits from delectably young and supple creatures—wless, eager, offering themselves to me without shame. Offering to be my breeder.


    ording to them, I wasn’t officially mated to Serena yet. And since my chosen mate wasn’t my fated one, it meant she could easily be reced—by any one of them.


    Their ambition was bold. Presumptuous. But hardly surprising.


    With the official confirmation of my position as Alpha King drawing closer, now was the perfect time for them to strike. None of them would’ve passed on the opportunity to have me.


    Not one.


    They would have relished it. They would never have dared push me away. Never. The only wolf who had the balls to do that was Maeve.


    After we kissed, part of me had foolishly expected her anger to soften.


    I had hoped that feeling me—tasting me—would have pulled her closer, loosened that impossible wall she keeps building between us.


    But instead, she red up even more. I still heard her voice ringing in my head, sharp and venomous, full of fury. The threats. The rejection.


    And yet, it was obvious she had wanted it.


    She enjoyed that kiss. Her body told me more than her mouth ever would. She was breathless, desperate, and flushed.


    But she hated herself for wanting me. That was the difference between us—she fights it. I don’t.


    I saw the crack in her gaze right after, the way her eyes went distant, far-off. Like something else weighed heavily on her mind. Like she was hiding something.


    And before I could even press her on it, she kicked me out. mmed the door in my face. She dismissed me like I was nothing.


    Humiliated didn’t even begin to cover what I felt.


    I was pissed.


    What made it worse was how easily I had let her get away with it. How easily I’d taken her rage in stride like I had no choice in the matter. As if her temper was some force of nature I simply had to weather.


    I inhaled deeply, forcing a breath to calm myself, but it did nothing. If anything, it only stoked the fire still burning inside me.


    Images of her shed through my mind: Maeve warning me to stay away from her. Threatening to sever the mating bond and take our son. Kicking me out like I was disposable.


    I was pacing in front of my study desk when Francis walked in. He took one look at me and asked the obvious question.


    "Let me guess. Maeve?"


    I growled at the mention of her name.


    "She hasn’t changed one bit. She’s still as insufferable as ever. Even more so now."


    "Really? She seems different to me," Francis shrugged, like he was purposely poking at my irritation. "I was with her in the kitchen earlier. There’s a confidence about her that wasn’t there before. She seems very assured in her role as healer."


    "It doesn’t change the fact that she’s a stubborn piece of work," I snapped, moving behind my desk and finally taking a seat.


    Francis leaned forward, his brows raised.


    "Don’t mind my asking, but did she do anything in particr to piss you off this time?"


    "I finally got the results of the DNA test," I told him, my jaw tightening as the words left me. "The boy. Asha. He’s mine."


    "Wow." Francis whistled softly. "You know, I suspected, but hearing it confirmed like that—wow. You finally have an heir."


    I couldn’t believe it either. I still couldn’t fully wrap my head around the fact that I had a son out there who looked exactly like me.


    Since the confirmation, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Asha.


    Thinking about the right moment to call for him. To meet him. To finally see with my own eyes all the traits we might share. The way he carried himself.


    The way he looked. The way he would recognize me as his father.


    And yet, I couldn’t ignore the fact that until yesterday, he didn’t even know I existed. Everything was new to him, just as it was to me.


    I med Maeve for that. Completely.


    If she hadn’t kept my son hidden from me all these years, I wouldn’t be standing here now, forced to strategize how to initiate something as simple as a conversation with my own child.


    "What’s going through your head right now?" Francis asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.


    "I’m thinking about how Maeve has been nothing but selfish since her return," I replied coldly. "She hid my son—my heir—for years, for reasons that served no one but herself. And now, she wants to break the mating bond."


    "She wants to break the bond?" Francis blinked, taken aback. "That’s... unexpected."


    "I don’t think so," I said, shaking my head. "It didn’t sound like a spontaneous decision to me. It sounded like something she’s been nning for a long time."


    Five years exactly.


    Going by how cold and precise she sounded after our kiss, it was obvious she’d thought long and hard about this. About me. About everything.


    She hadn’t made any of this up on a whim. I just hadn’t figured out everything running through her head yet. But I would.


    "And how do you feel about that? Breaking the mate bond," Francis asked, his tone serious, eyes narrowed. "Is it something you want to do?"