The Alpha's Forbidden Vow novel Chapter 110

POV: Selene

Ryker’s words were a dangerous, seductive poison.

He was offering me a partnership, an appreciation for my power that Zane, in his current state, was incapable of.

I pulled back, my heart hammering, a confusing storm of emotions swirling inside me.

I was not tempted by Ryker, not truly. My soul was bound to Zane.

But the idea of being seen, of being valued for my strength… it was a powerful lure.

“I am my own woman, Ryker,” I said, my voice steady. “I do not need you, or Zane, to give me anything.”

A slow, appreciative smile spread across his face. “Precisely,” he said. “That is why you are a queen.”

He took a step back, producing a single, perfect flower from his coat.

It was a strange, beautiful bloom, its petals a shimmering, ethereal silver, and it seemed to pulse with a soft, internal light.

“A Moonflower,” he explained, offering it to me. “An ancient and very rare bloom. It is said to soothe a troubled spirit. A small gift.”

I hesitated, then slowly took the flower. Its petals were cool and soft against my skin, and a wave of genuine, calming energy seemed to flow from it, easing the tense knot in my chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered, surprised by the sincerity of the gift.

He bowed his head slightly. “Until we meet again, my lady.”

And then he was gone, as silently as he had appeared.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the beautiful, glowing flower in my hand.

It was the first moment of peace, of beauty, I had felt in weeks.

A low, guttural snarl from the library doorway shattered it.

I whirled around.

Zane stood there, his face a thunderous mask of pure, primal rage.

He dragged me out into the moonlit garden, the place where Ryker had just been.

He finally stopped, spinning me around and pinning me against the cold stone wall of the manor.

He caged me in with his body, his hands planted on the wall on either side of my head.

He was shaking, his entire body trembling with an emotion so powerful it seemed to be consuming him.

It was jealousy. A pure, undiluted, and completely irrational jealousy that his broken mind could not comprehend.

He stared down at me, his eyes blazing with a mad, confusing fire.

He knew he was angry. He knew he was possessive.

He just didn’t know why.

“Mine,” he growled, the single word a raw, guttural sound torn from the depths of his soul.

And in his eyes, I saw not just a king, not just a beast, but a profoundly lost and tormented man, a prisoner of a love he could no longer remember.