Majori's POV:
Crash!
The sound of shattering glass rang out sharply. The bright sky outside seemed to darken in an instant. Vincent's imposing frame loomed in front of the window, blocking my view entirely.
His face, shrouded in shadows, looked terrifying. His eyes blazed with fury. Beneath him, shards of glass scattered across the floor, and water from the shattered cup soaked into his pants. But Vincent paid no mind to these trivial things.
He was angry, very angry.
He probably couldn't understand why I kept trying to leave over and over again. Just moments ago, he had wanted nothing more than to destroy all those who had robbed me of my life, to do everything to bring justice back to me. How aggrieved he must be, right?
Now, I was back by his side, and he was no longer the powerless man of five years ago. He possessed power, status, and wealth. All I needed to do was say the word, and he would willingly offer the entire kingdom in exchange for my smile.
But all I wanted… was to leave.
He had changed! He was no longer the same person from five years ago!
"You'd better get that thought out of your head before I completely lose my temper!"
Vincent grabbed my face, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He had very little patience left; clearly, he could not tolerate my rejection.
He could give me everything—everything except what I desired most: freedom.
I wasn't surprised by this outcome. It was just that the disappointment in my heart deepened. The image of the man I once knew was being destroyed piece by piece by his own hands, making me feel helpless from within.
"If it's not about this, then there's no need for us to discuss anything else. It's all just meaningless words."
Vincent glared at me, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He pushed my face away, sneering coldly.
"You're so eager to leave me just like you did five years ago? Is it because of Brian?"
The question hit the air like a gunshot, filling the room with an oppressive, deadly tension.
Hearing that name, I froze, like a character in a paused film, trapped in a moment of suspended animation. Memories from long ago resurfaced abruptly.
That man named Brian...
He was once Vincent's best friend, and now, he was my living nightmare.
But I could never reveal that to anyone.
It was a secret I would carry to my grave.
Thinking about it made my heart ache. All these years, Vincent had always thought I was that kind of person.
I smiled bitterly, but I accepted it. I didn't bother avoiding his gaze anymore and looked at him with cold, detached eyes, curling my lips into a weak smile.
"Your Majesty, you can think whatever you want."
My reaction only fueled Vincent's anger. I offered no explanation. Some things were simply unspeakable.
I wanted to cry, but I couldn't shed tears in front of him. My hands, hidden beneath my oversized sleeves, clenched tightly, my nails digging painfully into my palms.
But it seemed that only through pain could I remain clear-headed. Clear-headed enough not to break, clear-headed enough not to spill everything and collapse into Vincent's arms, sobbing like a child.
I had a desire to tell him everything, but I also feared that it might actually happen.
All these years, he had been tormented by the thought that I had left him for Brian. That was why, when he saw my unmarked neck, he had been so shocked.
But my response…
Was as if I couldn't care less about his reaction.
Vincent was taken aback. There was suspicion, jealousy, and rage—emotions that I could see, emotions that made me ache, but I pretended not to notice, pretended not to care.
As I had said, it was all in the past. Now, we were merely a benefactor and a debtor—nothing more, nothing less.
Vincent shoved my face away. His initial intent to inquire about my past, his sadness, his yearning to help me seek revenge—all of it transformed into an indescribable sense of helplessness.
What good was being a king if the person he loved didn't even care?
I could only muster a mocking smile.
Vincent stood up, his expression conflicted. Everything he had wanted to say was swallowed back down, unable to find words.
In the end, he could only let out a weary sigh:
"Rest well. Don't strain yourself."
Vincent wouldn't let me leave.
I understood the hidden meaning in his words, and, feeling utterly drained, I closed my eyes, unwilling to look at him any longer.
...
Vincent's POV:
That night, I drank myself senseless.
No companions. No Captian hovering nearby to steady me. No royal kin to share the burden of my crown. It was just me, Lycan King, alone before a table heavy with food and bottles of wine that refused to numb the ache inside me.
Glass after glass, I swallowed the burn, welcoming it. I was never one to drink much; even as a ruler, I needed to stay sharp, always alert. Since ascending the throne, I had never once allowed myself to lose control like this.
But tonight… I didn't care. Tonight, I wanted to forget.
The more I drank, the more her face returned to me, Majori as she once was. Her laughter. Her warmth. The way her eyes used to light up when she looked at me. Each memory carved deeper into my chest until I couldn't breathe.
I was alone. Utterly and completely alone.
I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hand, staring blankly at the half-empty glass in front of me. My vision blurred, the world swaying softly, then a shadow appeared. A soft hand slid across the table, fingers brushing mine before snatching the glass from my grasp.
I didn't move. I just watched as those painted lips touched the rim of the glass and drank.
Dane.
She was one of the people who helped me the most after I left the Blue Moon Pack.
Dane was the daughter of a man who once served as an official under Alpha Johson. But after Brian announced that his father had fallen ill and established a temporary governing council to take control of the Blue Moon Pack, anyone who dared oppose or question him was executed, including Dane's father.
After her father's sudden and mysterious death, her uncles began fighting among themselves to seize the family estate. They exploited and cornered her leaving her with nowhere to turn. It was during that time that Ryder and I happened to pass by and helped her out of that dire situation.
Out of gratitude, she entrusted me with her late father's entire estate and military forces, giving me a stronger foundation for the path I would later take.
Dane has feelings for me, I know that.
But I don't feel the same way about her.
I didn't love her. I never could.
Dane, on the other hand, loved me or at least loved the idea of me. To her, I was the prize. The perfect king. The man who could give her the world.
Everyone says that Dane and I are a perfect match, that I should give her a chance and try to open my heart to her. No one says it outright but everyone in the pack quietly regards her as my Luna.
So when I brought Majori back and began showing her special care, the rumors started spreading.
They weren't wrong.
I saw the jealousy in Dane's eyes the moment she entered the hall.
She took the glass from me again, filled it, and held it out. "I'll drink with you," she said softly.
I said nothing. Just took it and drank.
Wine and silence filled the room. One glass became two, then three. I didn't even notice when my thoughts drifted away completely. Dane called for the servants to carry me to my chambers. I was half-aware of her voice, her perfume, familiar but unwanted. When the doors closed behind us and she dismissed everyone, I realized we were alone.
I didn't stop her when she pushed me down. Didn't react as her hands slid over my chest, her clothes falling away piece by piece. My head was foggy, my limbs heavy but my instincts those primal, lycan instincts responded to her closeness.
She climbed onto me, tracing my jaw with trembling fingers. I looked at her, eyes unfocused, lost somewhere between dream and memory. Her lips brushed mine, her tongue teasing and I let her.
For a moment, I thought maybe I could forget. Maybe, just for a night, I could silence the ache inside me.
Then I blinked.
The room shifted. Her scent changed. My breath caught.
"You…" I murmured, staring at her face through the haze. "You're not… Majori?"
She froze.
The illusion shattered. The fog in my mind burned away in an instant replaced by fury. I shoved her off me, hard enough for her to stumble and hit the floor.
"Vincent...!" she gasped, clutching at the sheets, her face pale.
I glared at her, my voice raw. "Get out."
She hesitated, tears of anger pooling in her eyes.
"Now!" I roared, the sound echoing against the walls.
Dane scrambled to gather her clothes, covering herself in shame and outrage before fleeing the room.
And then it was silent again.
Only me.
Only the wine.
And the name that refused to leave my mind...
Majori.