The Lycan King's Secret Daughter novel Chapter 30

The room was warm with scented oils and soft candlelight, casting golden shadows against the silk-lined walls. I stood in front of the mirror, barely breathing as my maid adjusted the final clasp of the ceremonial robe.

The fabric shimmered in silver and crimson, colors of both House Thorne and Blackmaw, now joined in unity. A woven belt of leather and embroidered gold lay at my waist, symbolizing both strength and legacy.

Tonight, I wouldn’t just be claiming a mate.

I would be claiming a crown.

And then, without warning, the door creaked open.

I turned, expecting my maid. Instead, it was Rovan.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him without a word. He looked… undone. Not messy, but open. His jacket hung loose around his shoulders, his hair slightly tousled like he’d run a hand through it too many times.

We stood there for a long moment.

Just staring, without saying anything. Then he crossed the room and pulled me into him without hesitation.

His mouth met mine, and all the tension, all the doubts, all the pain—melted.

We kissed like the world had stopped spinning. Like the war between us had ended. Like all that remained was fire and breath and this moment.

His hands slid along my waist, finding the ties at the back of my robe. Mine tugged at the collar of his shirt, fingers brushing against skin that felt warmer than I remembered.

We undressed each other slowly, reverently, like we were unwrapping a promise.

My back hit the edge of the vanity, and I gasped as his lips moved from my mouth to the side of my neck. I could feel his heart beating against mine, wild and desperate.

But somewhere between his touch and the heat rising in my chest, my mind wandered.

To Elene.

To the temptation that had been placed so carefully in his path.

And how he hadn’t given in.

Not once.

He’d chosen me—even in my absence. Even in my silence. That was loyalty. That was love.

For the first time in days, I realized I had forgiven him—not in part, but fully, deep in the marrow of my bones.

Because I finally understood what it meant to navigate power and alliances. What it meant to wear a crown and still ache like a woman.

Just as his lips grazed my collarbone, the door creaked open again.

We turned sharply, breathless, flushed, clothes half-peeled.

Lady Vela stood there, with Neressa beside her. Both frozen in place.

I blinked, scrambling to wrap the robe back around myself, heat rising to my cheeks. “Do you know how to knock?”

Lady Vela stepped inside, clearing her throat with a tight smile. “We… heard you were here.”

“Well, clearly.”

Rovan adjusted his shirt silently, standing behind me now, quiet but alert.

Neressa was the first to speak. Her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “We didn’t come to judge. We came to ask… for forgiveness.”

My heart stuttered.

“You what?”

“We were wrong,” Lady Vela said plainly. “About you. About everything. Rovan told us what he should’ve told us years ago. You never deserved what we gave you.”

I searched her face for sarcasm or some hidden sting but there was none.

Just plain regret.

“I’m not the girl who left Blackmaw,” I said, my voice measured.

“I know,” Lady Vela replied. “But I still remember her. And I see now she was worth so much more than we gave.”

Silence hung between us.

Then I nodded. “I forgive you.”

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