The Betrayed Princess Rising (Lylah and Ezra) novel Chapter 365

Chapter 365

3rd Person’s POV

Fisted

Steam still clung faintly to Lylah’s skin as she stepped out from her bath, the scent of rosewater weaving through her natural pheromones. The treatment center had settled into a hushed stillness for the night, but her mind refused to follow. Vargan’s words lingered.

Children.

The thought circled her like a restless wolf, pacing, waiting.

She stood near the window, arms loosely wrapped around herself, the cool night air brushing against her damp skin.

‘Should I tell Ezra? Should I ask him what he—’

Before the thought could fully form, warmth closed around her from behind.

Ezra.

His arms slipped around her waist, pulling her back against the firm line of his chest. His presence enveloped her instantly. His breath grazed the curve of her neck as he inhaled deeply, taking in the blend of her scent. Rosewater and her.

His wolf stirred beneath the surface, brushing against hers with quiet intensity. “What makes

think standing here whispering my name is enough? You could’ve called for me, love.”

you

His grip tightened just slightly.

“I’ve been waiting too,” he continued, his tone shifting. “There’s something I need to ask you. And it’s urgent.”

Lylah turned within his arms, her brows knitting faintly. “What is it?”

“Do you want it?” he asked.

The question lingered between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Her frown deepened, confusion flickering-until he said it.

“Children.”

Lylah blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “So you heard Grandpa and me,” she said softly.

“I was looking for you,” Ezra replied, his voice dropping, deepening as something more primal

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stirred beneath it. His hands settled firmly around her upper arms. “I heard enough. You still haven’t answered me,” he added, quieter now. “Do you want pups?”

Lylah blinked, a little taken aback by how directly he asked it. And yet… part of her understood.

This wasn’t sudden-not really. It had always been there, quietly waiting beneath everything else. Ezra’s family, his bloodline, the weight of Moonclaw’s future, they all wanted the same thing.

But her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Back to Professor Grimwood. To that quiet, unsettling conversation—the one Ezra had never spoken of himself.

The rare mutation he had inherited from his mother.

The power it gave him and the risk it carried. And the possibility that it could be passed down. To his child. Their child.

Her chest tightened at the thought.

nd if their child inherited it… But not his strength?

hey carried the burden… without the power to survive it?

The question lingered, heavy and unrelenting, threading fear through everything Lylah tried to steady within herself.

“Ezra…” she breathed, the name barely more than a whisper.

But the thoughts didn’t stop there. Another truth surfaced-one just as heavy.

Her studies were unfinished. Her path as a healer still incomplete. The dream she had fought for was not yet within reach. And a child deserved more than divided attention. More than a mother torn between duty and calling.

Fear flickered through her.

Not of the child, but of failing them.

She lifted her gaze to him, steady despite the storm within. “If I say… not for now, would you be offended?”

For a fleeting second, something shifted in his eyes.

Then it was gone.

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“No,” Ezra answered. “Why would I be?”

“Then let’s wait for the right time. The best time.”

He fell silent for a moment, the stillness stretching just long enough to feel it.

“But what if ‘the best’ never comes?” he asked at last.

His voice remained gentle, but beneath it, something restless stirred. Not anger. Not even frustration. Something deeper.

Something his wolf did not quite know how to quiet.

“It will,” Lylah said, steady despite the tightness in her chest. “And if it doesn’t, then we wait longer.”

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