Sybil reclined against the plush velvet cushions of her opulent bedroom in Vanderbilt Castle, savoring each bite of perfectly cut apple slices arranged on fine china.
Golden morning light poured through the expansive windows, casting warm rays across the emerald silk of her dressing gown as she selected another piece with deliberate precision.
The servant she had summoned earlier appeared in the doorway, offering a respectful bow that spoke of years of training.
“Miss Sinclair,” the woman murmured, keeping her gaze appropriately lowered.
Sybil took her time chewing, allowing a hint of amusement to play at the corners of her mouth before uncrossing her legs with practiced grace.
“Look at me when you speak.”
The servant’s head lifted instantly, though her eyes remained fixed somewhere past Sybil’s shoulder.
Without preamble, Sybil cut straight to what she needed to know.
“Tell me about last night.
Did the Alpha share quarters with his bride?”
The servant’s composure flickered for just a moment before she responded.
“No, Miss Sinclair.
Alpha Caspian remained in his private chambers throughout the night.”
Warmth bloomed in Sybil’s chest, though her expression remained perfectly controlled.
The confirmation sent waves of vindication through her—Caspian hadn’t laid a finger on that pathetic woman.
It proved everything she had suspected about his true feelings toward his so-called wife.
Her voice maintained its casual tone as she continued her interrogation.
“And his bride?
Where did she spend the night?”
“Lady Talia continues to occupy the guest wing, Miss.”
Sybil’s fingertips traced lazy patterns along the porcelain plate’s rim as satisfaction settled deeper into her bones.
Not only had Caspian avoided consummating his marriage, but he hadn’t even bothered to give the woman proper chambers befitting an Alpha’s mate.
The message couldn’t be clearer.
With a dismissive gesture, she sent the servant away, then finished the last sweet slice of apple with renewed appetite.
Minutes later, buoyed by this intelligence, Sybil emerged from her chambers with purpose.
She would find Caspian and gauge his mood for herself.
But her journey was interrupted when she nearly walked straight into Logan’s solid frame in the corridor.
“Logan,” she said, deliberately omitting his formal Beta title as she always did.
Logan came to an abrupt halt, his expression remaining carefully neutral as his posture straightened to military precision.
He offered no greeting in return, simply waiting for her to state her business.
The slight felt deliberate, but Sybil pushed past it.
“I need to speak with Caspian.
Where is he?”
His reply came measured and formal.
“Alpha Caspian is conducting business in his study.”
She caught the pointed emphasis on ‘Alpha’ and knew it was meant as correction for her casual address, but such reminders had long since lost their effect on her.
She had earned the right to familiarity through years of closeness.
Adopting an air of innocent concern, she asked, “Since we depart for Rainwood tomorrow, what arrangements has the Alpha made for his bride?
Surely she won’t be left here to manage this massive castle alone?”
Logan’s features remained impassive as he delivered his response like a physical blow.
“Lady Talia will be accompanying us.”
The words hit Sybil with unexpected force, wiping the practiced smile from her face entirely.
For the first time in their exchange, her mask of composure shattered.
“She’s traveling with us?”
Logan didn’t pause to acknowledge her shock, moving to step around her with professional efficiency.
“Excuse me, I have duties to attend.”
He disappeared down the hallway, leaving Sybil standing frozen as anger began to build in her chest like gathering storm clouds.
The idea of that worthless woman joining their dangerous mission felt like an insult to everything their pack stood for.
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she muttered through gritted teeth, “Absolutely not.
I’ll make him see reason.”
The familiar path to Caspian’s study felt different under her urgent steps.
She had walked these corridors countless times, but today each step carried the weight of her determination to prevent what she saw as a catastrophic mistake.
The guard stationed outside recognized her immediately, offering only a brief nod of acknowledgment before opening the heavy door without question.
Such was the privilege her position in the castle afforded her.
Caspian’s study enveloped her in its masculine atmosphere—towering shelves packed with leather-bound volumes, the air thick with hints of mint and rich cedarwood that clung to everything he touched.
It was a scent that never failed to affect her, even in moments like these.
He sat behind his imposing mahogany desk like a king holding court, his powerful frame filling the high-backed chair with natural authority.
Black clothing emphasized his commanding presence, the partially unbuttoned shirt revealing enough of his chest to remind her of the strength that lay beneath.
Even at rest, he radiated the kind of dangerous magnetism that had first drawn her to him.
“Good morning, Caspian,” she said, settling into the chair across from him without waiting for invitation.
He glanced up from his papers, reading glasses framing those penetrating eyes.
“Morning.” His acknowledgment was brief, professional.
“What brings you here so early?”
A soft laugh escaped her lips.
“It’s nearly nine.
Hardly early by any standard.”
Rather than respond, he returned his attention to the documents before him, effectively dismissing her presence.
The casual rejection stung more than she cared to admit.
After several beats of silence, she decided to address the issue directly.
“I understand Talia will be joining us in Rainwood.”
Without lifting his gaze from the papers, he confirmed her fears.
“She will be.
Do you object?”
Leaning forward with practiced concern etched across her features, she made her case.
“I do, actually.
Caspian, you know better than anyone how dangerous conditions are there right now.
The murders, the missing hearts—it’s hardly suitable for someone so vulnerable.
She has no wolf to defend herself.
You’re putting her in unnecessary danger.”
Finally, his eyes met hers, studying her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
When he spoke, his tone carried finality that brooked no argument.
“My wife’s safety is my responsibility, and I’ve taken appropriate precautions.”
The possessive way he said ‘my wife’ sent jealousy clawing at her insides, but before she could formulate a response, the study doors swung open.
Logan strode in with purpose, his attention immediately focused on Caspian.
“The convoy is ready, Alpha.”
Without hesitation, Caspian removed his glasses and rose from his chair, Logan smoothly pulling it back to give him space.
The efficiency of their partnership spoke to years of working together.
“Where are you going?” Sybil asked, unable to keep a note of frustration from creeping into her voice.
Caspian fastened his shirt buttons with swift movements, barely sparing her a glance.
“King Osric has summoned me to the palace.”
And with that simple statement, their conversation reached its abrupt end.