<h4>Chapter 42: Chapter 42: EASY TO UNLOVE</h4>


    <strong>IVAN’S POV</strong>


    The separation ritual failed.


    I hadn’t expected it to—but when Revierrie confirmed it, a breath punched through my lungs like I’d been holding it in for years.


    Relief rushed through me before I could stop it.


    It didn’t make sense. I should’ve been angry. Frustrated. Just as infuriated as Maeve.


    I should’ve felt cornered by the bond I’de here to destroy, exploded on her, and demanded answers from the priest.


    But instead, all I felt was the sudden looseness in my chest, like something in me could finally breathe again. Like some part of me wasn’t ready to let her go.


    And that pissed me off.


    Pissed me off even more when I saw that my relief was nothing like Maeve’s disposition.


    It shot a sharp pang through my chest to see how disappointed she was—how almost desperate she seemed to sever whatever was left between us.


    She didn’t spare me another nce before storming off—and if I weren’t such a bastard, I might not have noticed how hypnotic the sway of her apple-bottom ass was as she walked away.


    But I did.


    Goddess help me, I did.


    The sight of her bare body had been... glorious. Better than Ist remembered. Better than any of my sweaty, fist-pumping daydreams.


    And now it was striding away from me like I didn’t exist.


    My wolf, still prowling close beneath my skin, yearned to chase after her—to pull her back to us and nuzzle deep into her neck, to breathe in her scent, to breathe in every maddening inch of her existence.


    We craved to drag her back into the circle, back into that moment when everything else—our past, our pain, our pride—had faded into nothing but the electric space between our bodies.


    Confession time: I had loved every second of the pain that came with trying to sever the bond.


    It was the fucked-up kind of satisfaction—the kind you fight like hell but lose to anyway. The kind that sets your blood on fire because you’re already too far gone, too tethered to the one person you were never supposed to want again.


    And the subject of the entirety of my obsession was Maeve.


    The worst person it could be.


    I clenched my fists tightly, trying to leash my wolf’s overpowering desire. My jaw tightened. Stubborn little beast.


    Everyone in the room still wore the same stunned expression, their gazes glued to Maeve’s retreating figure.


    My first instinct was to grab something—anything—and cover her up. To stop Francis and the old geezers from gawking at what wasn’t theirs to look at.


    But it wasn’t my ce to protect her like that anymore.


    Right?


    And fuck, Goddess knows that if I got close enough—just close enough to catch a whiff of her addictive scent and drown in the pool of those beautiful eyes—it wouldn’t matter how furious she was or how hard she pped me.


    There’d be no calming the storm inside me.


    No stopping the way my cock stiffened at the sight of her ass—round, perfect, jiggling slightly with every furious step toward the door.


    No restraining how fast I’d drop to my knees and bury my face between her thighs, uncaring who saw, who gasped, who judged—because in that moment, she’d be all mine again.


    I could already picture it: her moaning, arching, her legs locked around my waist as I pinned her behind one of the marble pirs and imed what had once been mine.


    Fucking hell.


    Goddess, I wanted her.


    I had never wanted anyone this much.


    I needed to feel the heat of her skin flush against mine, needed to hear her gasp as I plunged into her wet, waiting pussy, needed to fuck the hate right out of her—and this torturous hunger out of me.


    The thought made my wolf growl low in my chest, and this time, I couldn’t stop myself.


    "Don’t." Francis stepped in front of me, his palm pressing against my shoulder with grounding force.


    I hadn’t even realized I’d started moving until that touch yanked me out of it. His eyes were calm, but the warning in them was clear.


    I frowned, jaw ticking, already on the verge of arguing.


    "Leave the woman alone, Ivan." His words were stern, and the look he gave me left no room for misinterpretation. "Going after her right now is bad news."


    My brows drew together, wrestling with the urge to shove past him and do it anyway.


    "The Beta is right, sire," Barty chimed in carefully. "We don’t understand the nature of what went wrong in the severance—and I think it unwise to go after a woman you’ve marked for rejection. Nude, no less."


    He deliberately avoided my gaze—or maybe it was my nudity. I didn’t care. My shoulders slumped under the bite of helplessness.


    Even if I went after her... what then?


    She hated me. She’d made that very clear. Don’t touch me, she’d said. And not touching her was thest thing I wanted right now.


    I’d never felt more cornered by a woman in my entire life—and she wasn’t just any woman. She was my ex-wife.


    I sighed. She was at the doors now. Still no nce back. Not a single bone of yearning as she left the double doors.


    Was she only this desperate because of her new man?


    New man. The thought alone left a bitter taste on my tongue. A bloodthirsty rage built in my chest.


    Why him? Why the fuck did he get to have my mate of all people?


    Had he kissed her the way I used to? Had she let him touch her the way she let me?


    Did she melt for him the way she always melted for me—eyes fluttering, thighs parting, breath catching like I was the only goddamn thing that ever existed?


    Did she truly love him? Was that even fucking possible?


    In five years of trying to move on from Maeve, I had never felt a single sliver of warmth—much less desire—for Serena. Love? Not even close.


    But Maeve? She looked at me like she wanted me gone from her world.


    Did she hate me that much? Enough to bring her wolf to love another man?


    How could she so easily find the very thing I’d searched and yearned for tirelessly over five goddamn years?


    My chest twisted like someone had mmed a de into it and twisted. The pain was excruciating. Deep. And I couldn’t exin it. I didn’t even understand it.


    "Here." Francis held out a bunch of folded fabric—clothes, freshly pressed.


    He had insisted on having them brought in before the ritual—to save the dishonor of having the maids and guards see their king naked.


    I took them with numb fingers, barely registering the movement as I slipped into the ck cks and T-shirt. It felt pointless, somehow. Empty.


    Like dressing up a corpse.


    Francis exhaled beside me, his gaze still fixed on the door Maeve had stormed out of.


    "The ritual brought out the feral nature of your wolves, so I understand that you might feel things right now," he said quietly. "But you need to calm down, Your Highness. She’s not herself either."


    "Forgive me, my king!" Revierrie cried suddenly, dropping to his knees with dramatic shame. "You must spare my life enough to atone for this disappointment. I am deeply sorry for all of this. Just give me some time, and I promise—I promise—I’ll fix whatever went wrong with the ritual."


    He looked like he was on the verge of either tears or pissing himself—neither of which was a pleasant sight for a man his age.


    "Get up, Revierrie," I said tly. "I expect a full report by morning on your research."


    He bowed lower instead, refusing to rise, still muttering apologies. I rolled my eyes and stepped out of the glowing circle, now fully clothed and just as empty.


    Barty appeared at my side instantly. His face was tight with concern.


    "Your Highness, I too am sorry that this has been a colossal waste of your time," he said, bowing his head. "Revierrie and I will not sleep a wink until we find a way to fix this. We promise."


    Before I could respond to Barty—tly, dismissively, with the barest grunt of fine—the double doors burst open like they’d been thrown off the hinges.


    My head didn’t even turn. I didn’t need to look. I already knew.


    Serena.


    And I was fucking tired.