Chapter 199
Third Person’s POV
Duskgrave Estate.
TEM
D
Finished
When Riley opened her eyes, she felt the disorientation of waking somewhere unfamiliar—until the scent of night–blooming roses and clean linen grounded her. She was in her room. Somehow, during the night, Lucien must have carried her up from the lounge.
A flush crept up her neck.
Ever since arriving at the Stormridge Pack’s stronghold, it felt like all she’d done was burden Lucien. He was an Alpha prince -untouchable, powerful, refined. And she was… a fallen daughter of the Ebonclaw Pack, stripped of status and shadowed by betrayal.
She wanted to repay him somehow. But what could she offer someone like Lucien Duskgrave?
Riley exhaled slowly. No more debts. Today, she’d do at least one thing for him.
After washing up, she padded down the stairs. Before entering the kitchen, she cracked the villa’s heavy front door open, allowing the fresh morning air to slip inside. If Duke or Caelum Knox arrived, she wouldn’t hear the doorbell–and she refused to miss their arrival again.
The silence of her world was different now. It wasn’t peaceful—it was hollow. Every quiet moment felt like a reminder of what had been taken from her.
So she focused on the only thing she could control: breakfast.
Outside, Carmen stood at the gates of the Duskgrave estate.
She lifted her eyes to the towering marble façade, breath catching in her throat. The estate looked less like a home and more like a fortress carved from moonlight and stone–its columns thick and ancient, its walls etched with sigils of dominance and Stormridge lineage.
White roses sprawled in the front garden, their petals heavy with dew, each one as pristine and sharp–edged as cut glass. The air smelled of wildflowers, old money, and the kind of power only a royal–blooded Alpha could command.
Carmen had never felt smaller. But she straightened her spine.
Is Riley really okay in a place like this? she wondered.
She rang the bell.
Nothing.
Frowning, she hesitated–then pushed. The door creaked open.
She stepped inside.
The estate was silent except for the distant, comforting aroma of congee simmering in bone broth. Following the scent, she reached the kitchen threshold and froze.
There she was–Riley.
Standing before the stove, back straight, sleeves rolled up, quietly stirring the pot as steam curled around her like a second
skin.
Riley, Carmen called softly
No response.
Carmen stepped closer, voice rising, “Riley? It’s me–Carmen.”
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