Chapter 1
532words
On the third night after waking from the hunting accident, Elara accepted the moonlight honey Silas offered. The moment her fingertips brushed his warm skin, her newfound mind-reading ability shattered the veil of his conspiracy.
A week ago, she'd been thrown down a ravine by a wild beast, the head trauma awakening abilities she never knew she possessed—and revealing the hollow lies behind her Alpha's supposed love.
"Thank you, Silas. I'm feeling much better." She brought the cup to her lips, taking the smallest sip while her eyes remained cold as winter frost.
Elara watched him leave, waiting until the door clicked shut before turning to dump the poisoned honey into a nearby potted plant.
At the banquet, Silas commanded the room's attention as Alpha. Elara stood dutifully by his side, perfecting her role as the adoring mate while her mind calculated her next move.
Damian shouldered his way through the crowd, wine sloshing in his glass as he called out loudly:
"Since when does an Omega with tainted blood deserve to be Luna?"
The hall fell instantly silent, contemptuous glances darting toward Elara. Her once-powerful family had fallen from grace, her bloodline considered weak among werewolves who prized strength above all else.
Silas stepped forward, wrapping a protective arm around Elara while glaring at Damian:
"Shut your mouth, Damian! Elara is my Luna and your superior. Show some damn respect."
But Elara heard his true thoughts with crystal clarity:
"Idiot! Not yet—this pathetic woman still has one final use before I'm done with her."
Her knees nearly buckled as Silas continued his performance.
Before the entire gathering, he tenderly kissed her forehead and whispered:
"Pay them no mind, darling. You're the only one who holds my heart."
Yet in his mind flashed another scene entirely: a dimly lit bedroom, two naked bodies writhing together in passion. The woman beneath him was Chloe!
Elara pushed him away, bile rising in her throat as the betrayal hit her like a physical blow.
"I'm not feeling well," she managed, her face ashen, voice deliberately fragile. "I need to sit down for a moment."
"I'll come with you," Silas reached for her arm, his concern a perfect mask.
"No need. Tonight belongs to you," she demurred with practiced grace. "Enjoy your moment."
As she turned away, irritation flashed briefly in his eyes. Through some mental link, he projected to Chloe across the room: "Troublesome bitch. Just a little longer."
Elara laughed coldly inside. Her meekness, her submission—all carefully crafted deception. Like a predator stalking its prey, she would wait patiently for the perfect moment to destroy them both.
Elara closed her eyes, focusing her newfound ability. From across the hall, she caught fragments of Silas's thoughts—smug satisfaction and dark anticipation.
Suddenly, a crystal-clear thought cut through the mental noise, making her eyes snap open.
It was Silas's endgame.
"Once the ceremony's done, I'll give Chloe her reward—the gift that makes her this pack's true mistress."
A surprise?
Well, she had a surprise of her own planned. One he would never, ever forget.
