<h4>Chapter 58: Chapter 58: FAILED AGAIN</h4>


    <strong>MAEVE</strong><strong>’S POV</strong>


    The next rejection ritual was held deep in the woods.


    Just like thest time, everyone who had been present at thest ritual was present tonight. There was Francis and the elder, guarding the perimeter.


    Revierrie was busy lighting up candlesticks. He had a calmness about him—which was good to note.


    Thest ritual had taken such a toll on him, he had gone as far as to starve himself in his quest to find the root cause of the ritual’s failure.


    Francis had paid a quick visit to my quarters at the crack of dawn, informing me about the ritual tonight, at midnight, urging me to prepare.


    As I took his message in stride, I wondered if Ivan would have delivered the message in person, if I hadn’tshed out at him the way I did yesterday.


    Ivan—he had been acting pretty much uncharacteristic since thest rejection ritual.


    First, there was the kiss against the wall. I had been buck naked and he’d had his fingers graze my wetness. His filthy words and desperate desire had intensified the fervency of our kiss.


    All of it had been reckless and unhinged.


    And then, there was the spontaneous outing with Asha. The ne ride. The amusement park. The aircraft jackets. The identical sunshades. The shared smiles.


    All of it was the sort of thing that Ivan was unused to doing.


    And thenstly, was the messy confession out on the airport’s tarmac.


    It wasn’t exactly what I had been hoping for. I had been blindsided by the vulnerability of the moment. My first instinct had been to protect myself.


    And so, I did that the best way I could. Ished out hard. The more Ished out, the angrier I got. I was angry about being asked to let myself feel, even though there was a high chance I could get burned.


    Again.


    Even if I trusted that somewhere within all of Ivan’s words there was a trace of genuineness, what then?


    Was I supposed to abandon Devon—the man who had picked up my pieces when Ivan had failed me? How could I do that to the one person who had been my pir, been Asha’s father?


    Devon had sent me on this mission because he trusted me, for the goddess’ sake. And I was supposed to go back and tell him I’d fallen in love with his enemy? Fucking hell, no way.


    That would destroy everything Devon had put on the line. It was simply impossible, and sooner orter, Ivan would have to make peace with that.


    Yet, even now, mental images of his anguished face swam around the space between my eyes. And then, there had been his words.


    His apology. His readiness to own up to how wrong he’d been in the past. His offer to fix things between us.


    His words yed out in my mind more frequently than I wasfortable with. I was also rmed at how much of my focus he seemed to be taking up.


    It was dangerous how closely I had be entwined with him physically. While I hadn’t been able to resist his advances the few times they had happened, I knew for a fact now that I had to try.


    When Ivan was being just physical, I could handle him in some sort of way. His actions were predictable. Primal. In opposition, a vulnerable Ivan was definitely not predictable.


    I hadn’t a clue what to do with an Ivan that was open with his feelings, no matter how messy they were.


    Again, I thought about what he had said about wanting to try and fix the past between us.


    What did that mean exactly? Did it mean that he was nning to leave Serena for me? I found that extremely hard to believe.


    Perhaps he had just been reeling from spending a pleasant afternoon with Asha. Or maybe he was up to something else entirely. Was this about the throne? Was he doing all of this because he needed an heir to secure his ce as Alpha King?


    If any of our previous interactions were anything to go by, I knew that he still suspected me.


    What if histest show of emotion was just his way of getting me to soften and lessen my guards?


    "Ready?" Revierrie touched my arm, pulling my thoughts back to the present.


    The midnight air was thick and hot with the light of the lit candles. Within the ritual circle, Ivan stood with his arms folded.


    His face was a nk te. Whatever he was thinking, there was no way to guess it.


    I forced my mind not to care too much about it. As far as I was concerned, I was done amodating any more thoughts of him.


    Once the ritual ended tonight, there’d be no more forced interactions between us. No more messy confessions. No more stolen kisses.


    I would distance myself from him and find a way to get my hands on the ck book. And then, Asha and I could finally go back home to Devon.


    To Devon.


    My heart constricted at the mention of his name. It was crazy how little I had thought of him with everything that had been going on recently.


    Nevertheless, it didn’t stop me from missing him. From feeling guilty about everything I had done.


    We were mated to each other. We had ovee a lot of adversaries together and built a family in thest five years that we had known each other.


    If I cared about him—about our life back in Dark Wind—then I needed to get my shit together. It started with keeping Ivan as far away from me as possible.


    No amount of physical pull was good enough to jeopardize everything I had worked so hard to build with my second-chance mate.


    "I’m ready," I said to the priest, taking a deep breath—in through my nose, out through my mouth.


    It helped, if only slightly, to calm the storm in my chest.


    Ivan had yet to shift from his stony position.


    Revierrie gave us both a quick once-over before he began the ritual.


    "I stand to believe that conducting this separation ritual is what you both really want?" he inquired hesitantly. "I only ask because, thest time, it may have been possible that one of you had subconsciously opposed the ritual. In response, it had gotten in the way."


    "I want this," I stated, my voice clear and crisp.


    The priest nodded and turned to Ivan. "Your Highness?"


    "I want this too," he replied with a sense of calm that cut straight through me. "We are in agreement. Aren’t we, Maeve?"


    It caught me off guard—the way those cool gray eyes slid to mine, stealing the breath from my lungs.


    "I—Y—What... sorry, I mean, yes. Yes, we are," I finishedmely, my voice tripping over itself.


    For some reason, his gaze didn’t soften. If anything, his eyes only hardened, a sh of something unreadable passing through them before it all shut downpletely.


    "Proceed," he said abruptly to the priest.


    "I see... let’s do this, then." The priest pped his hands once, and just likest time, he took mine and Ivan’s hands into his own.


    He began the ritual with a series of chants.


    We let go of his hand, forcing ourselves to grip each other, just likest time.


    Ivan’s gaze on mine was dead—slits of emotionless, empty steel. His lips barely moved as he uttered the ancient severance chant.


    Just likest time.


    "I, Ivan Cross, reject this bond and cut the ties that connect us together, by the will of Selene."


    He finished his monotone with a flourish.


    "I, Maeve Oakes, reject this bond and cut the ties that connect us together, by the will of Selene."


    And then, we waited for something to happen.


    A minute passed. Nothing.


    There was no tingling sensation, no overwhelming muscle strain that came right before a shift.


    Just an underwhelming sense of despair, tangled with the night’s silence.


    It took another minute toe to terms with the fact that the separation ritual had failed—again.


    Revierrie was the first to break. His calm fa?ade broke, and he began rifling through the pages of his ceremonial journal with frantic hands.


    "No... no, this doesn’t make sense," he muttered, his voice rising. "I had the moonstone set in ce. The alignment is perfect. The chants, the markings—it’s all exactly as prescribed. It should have worked."


    "What went wrong?" Francis asked, his tone edged with impatience and clear irritation.


    Revierrie’s eyes darted up from the pages. "It might be... the sacrifice."


    "What sacrifice?" I asked sharply, my gaze snapping to him.


    He froze, realizing toote that I had no idea.


    Ivan’s voice cut through the tension. "There will be no sacrifice."


    Revierrie took a step forward, desperation bleeding into his tone far more than his usual cowardice.


    "Your Highness, can’t you see? This bond isn’t a standard mate bond—it’s wrath-bound. Every ount I’ve studied says all aspects of the ritual must bepleted to break it. That includes the offering. Without it, the goddess may refuse to sever what she’s—"


    "I said there will be no sacrifice," Ivan snapped, his voice thundering across the clearing.


    Revierrie faltered, but pressed on, words tumbling over themselves.


    "But Your Highness, it’s not working! Twice now! You’re both stubborn wolves! If we do not appease the goddess in full—"


    "I will not appease her with blood!" Ivan roared, his voice deepening into a feral growl.


    I caught it then—the shift in his eyes. A shade darker than before. And darker still with every breath he took.