<h4>Chapter 44: Chapter 44: JEALOUS EX-MATE</h4>


    <strong>IVAN’S POV</strong>


    I moved before I could think, my body responding faster than my mind. Because if any single one of those fuckersid a hand on her, I was going to lose everyst shred of my humanity.


    Everyone else in the sacred hall must’ve heard it too, because all heads immediately snapped toward themotion.


    I breezed past Barty, heading straight for its source.


    I could feel Francis on my heels, trailing behind me with the kind of deliberate quiet that told me he understood I was in no mood to be reasoned with.


    The moment I stepped past the threshold, I came face-to-face with at least a dozen household guards.


    They were nked by a few stunned-looking maids, all of them gathered like spectators to a damn circus. Together, they were openly gawking at a single figure.


    Naked. Female. Uncaring.


    It took me all of one second to realize it was Maeve.


    What the fuck was she doing?


    Why wasn’t she dressed yet? In what world was it even remotely eptable for her to be unting her curves like that in front of every male wolf with a throbbing dick?


    The guards were leering. The maids whispering behind their hands, eyes wide, pointing like they’d just seen a ghost—or a goddess.


    "What is she doing?" Francis muttered under his breath, stepping up beside me as if trying to make sense of the scene.


    And then—Serena appeared once more.


    She emerged from the side,posing herself with the exact elegance expected of a noblewoman, sliding her arm into mine like I hadn’t just thrown knives at her throat.


    She kept up the image of the Alpha’s bride and Luna-to-be. How wasn’t that tiring?


    "Oh, you must be appalled. I’ve been out here, asking myself the same thing," she said smoothly, her tone sweetly poisonous. "Yet I still can’t understand why Maeve chooses to parade herself around the pack house in such a disgraceful manner."


    Her eyes fixed straight ahead, scanning Maeve’s naked form with faux concern and poorly concealed disgust.


    "I passed by a few moments ago and overheard her yelling at the maid—poor girl had a change of clothes ready for her. But Maeve refused. Said she didn’t need them. Then she marched right out here like this. I tried to reason with her, even offered a fresh start—but she pped me. Animal that she is."


    Francis snorted. "And you expect us to believe you didn’t rile her up until she had no choice but to rewire your brain?"


    "Are you trying to call me problematic, Francis?" Serena snarled.


    Francis shrugged. "I find it hard to believe the Moon Healer would willingly put on a disy like this. Something’s not adding up. And when things don’t add up around here, it usually has something to do with you, Serena."


    She scoffed, her grip around my arm tightening. "Don’t be fooled by her deceitful innocence. You don’t know Maeve like I do. You have no idea the lengths she’ll go to—or the things she’s capable of."


    I was too stunned by the sight to pull myself out of the daze.


    Maeve was halfway up the grand staircase now, hips swaying with that maddening rhythm I felt low in my gut. Blood rushed to my cock.


    Her skin glistened like temptation incarnate beneath the chandelier light, her ass moving like a slow, cruel tease with every step she took.


    Was she doing this to punish me? Rile me up? Hurt me because the rejection ritual failed? Was this her way of sending a message?


    I couldn’t take it. Not anymore.


    I yanked my arm out of Serena’s grip without a word. The shock on her face was gratifying, but I didn’t bother acknowledging it. I was already moving.


    Francis said something—probably another weak attempt to rein me in—but I didn’t hear it.


    My stride was quick, a possessive rage burning just beneath my skin as I closed the distance.


    The moment the guards saw meing, the catcalls died instantly. The maids scattered like startled pigeons, scrambling to find any excuse to disappear.


    Maeve must’ve sensed it too—that shift in the air.


    She turned, and when her eyesnded on me, they widened for a fraction of a second, like she’d just realized her mistake. Like the sight of my fury had doused her in cold water.


    But I didn’t give her time to run.


    I stormed after her like a fucking madman, dragging her into the nearest sitting room, mming the door shut hard enough to rattle the chandelier overhead.


    My hands were shaking. With rage. With want. With something I couldn’t name but damn well recognized.


    She spun around, teeth bared and ready to rain hell, but I didn’t give her the chance.


    I moved on instinct, possessive, primal, pulling her flush against my chest so fast it knocked the breath from her lungs.


    Her skin seared against mine, nipples pebbling through the thin fabric of my shirt, the contact so intimate it felt obscene. My grip tightened around her arm possessively.


    "You know," I said, voice low and dangerous, breath grazing her cheek, "I always knew you were a liar. A fucking maniptor. But I never thought I’d be adding whore to the list."


    The words were venom. Meant to cut her where it hurt. But not even that dulled the wildfire burning behind her eyes.


    "That’s rich," she said coldly, lips curling. "Coming from the man who fucked my best friend the second I got a miscarriage."


    I bared my teeth.


    "How does it feel knowing every Ash Creek guard will fall asleep tonight with your naked body burned into their fantasies? Probably pumping their weak little cocks to the thought of you strutting through these halls like you’re begging to be fucked?"


    Slowly, she tilted her head, smirked, and cackled—a slow, wicked sound that curled like a noose around my neck.


    "Oh, don’t tell me you’re jealous, Ivan," she purred, stepping in so close I could feel the heat of her thighs brush against mine. "You know... it’d probably be the same way it feels for Serena every time you grunt my name in your sleep."


    This woman. A snarl tore through me.


    "You think this is jealousy?" I growled. "If it were, I’d have you bent over my fucking knee by now, spanked red for even thinking any man, dead or alive, deserves to see you like this."


    She arched an infuriating brow. "And who the hell gave you the right to that righteous anger? Last I checked, I’m not yours anymore. You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as me."


    "No," I growled, dragging her hips flush against mine, grinding just enough to feel the tremble in her breath. "But this fucking bond? It’s still ours."


    My hand slid around her waist, fingers brushing over the soft curve of her naked skin, pulling her tighter—close enough to feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest.


    "This fire between us, Maeve?" I hissed into her ear, my lips brushing her jaw as she squirmed. "It’s still burning. You can lie to yourself all you want. Pretend you don’t feel it. Pretend you aren’t soaking wet from the way I’m touching you. But as long as that severance hasn’t been carved into our wolves, as long as the goddess hasn’t ripped us apart by force..." I pressed my forehead to hers, our breath mixing—raspy, breathless. "You are mine, just as much as I’m still fucking yours."