The Alpha King's Defiant Hidden Princess

Fiona POV:

My demand hung in the air, swallowing the sound from the room.

Lady Rowena was the first to recover, letting out a short, sharp laugh like grinding glass. "A domestic dispute," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "A simple matter of a disobedient wife. This is my house, and you will be dealt with by my rules."

Bowen's brow furrowed, his brief moment of doubt erased by his mother's confidence. He straightened, his voice hardening. "You're stalling. You think if you make enough noise, you can distract us from what you did to Caitlynn."

He pulled his mistress closer, his misplaced pity for her a blindfold he wore willingly.

I didn't even glance at them. My attention was fixed on the doorway, where my handmaiden, Astrid Holt, stood silently.

"Astrid," I commanded, my voice clear and steady. "Go and fetch Doctor Elias Foster. Bring him here at once."

Astrid, a woman with a perpetually stern expression and eyes that missed nothing, gave a single, sharp nod. "Yes, Your Highness."

She turned to leave, but two of the hulking Mayer guards who had followed Bowen into the room moved to block her path, their hands resting on the hilts of their daggers. They looked to Lady Rowena for their orders.

Astrid didn't break stride. She met the gaze of the first guard with an expression of utter disdain and produced from her sleeve a small, silver disc. Engraved on its surface was the snarling wolf's head of the Blackwood royal family, cast in shadow—the sigil of the Shadow Guard.

The guard's face went slack with shock, his partner's eyes widened, and they both took an involuntary step back, clearing the path. The Shadow Guard answered only to the Alpha King. Their authority superseded any noble house, including the Mayers.

The color drained from Lady Rowena's face. Bowen's jaw went tight, a muscle twitching in his cheek. They had known, of course, that I was assigned a royal guard, but they had dismissed Astrid as just a maid—not an agent with the power to override their own household authority.

They had forgotten who I was: a princess of the blood, even a wolfless one.

Astrid walked out of the room without a backward glance, her footsteps echoing in the stunned silence. The balance of power in the room had just tilted, as audible as a crack of thunder.

Hidden in Bowen's embrace, Caitlynn's body gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shudder—the first tremor of fear.

I savored the shifting expressions on their faces, the shock and dawning unease. This was the first taste of a vengeance I had craved through the cold fog of death. It was intoxicating.

But this was only the beginning. I didn't just want to clear my name. I wanted to burn this entire arrangement to the ground.

I took two steps forward, closing the distance between myself and my husband. My gaze was calm, my heartbeat a slow, steady drum.

"Bowen Mayer," I said, the full name a deliberate distance. "You and your mother were so eager to condemn me, to believe the worst without a shred of proof. It seems there is no trust left between us."

He bristled at the formality. "Trust? After what you did?"

Lady Rowena shrieked, "You dare speak of trust, you murderous bitch!"

I let her insult wash over me, my focus remaining entirely on Bowen. "This union, forced upon me by my father, has been a mistake from the very beginning."

I took a deep breath, letting the memories of every humiliation, every lonely night, every whispered insult from my first life fuel the words to come. My spine straightened, my resolve hardening.

"Therefore, I am officially informing you," my voice cut through the silent room, "that I, Fiona Avery, demand we dissolve our union. Immediately."

The air in the room seemed to solidify.

Bowen's pupils contracted to pinpricks. He stared at me as if I had suddenly grown a second head. Dissolve the union? A wolfless princess, a political pawn, was daring to reject the heir of the powerful Mayer family? The insult was unthinkable.

Lady Rowena's mouth hung open, her face shifting from rage to a pasty, disbelieving white.

Even Caitlynn forgot to cry, her tear-filled eyes wide with astonishment.