Chapter 3
574words
They approached a massive black oath stone, its surface etched with countless names of werewolf generations—each inscription representing an eternal covenant with the Moon Goddess.
"I, Silas, hereby swear before the Moon Goddess," his voice resonated through the cave with practiced solemnity. "Elara is my only Luna. My devotion shall remain eternal as this oath stone, until the world's end."
But Elara's mind-reading had already stripped away his deception:
"Stupid bitch, keep her placated with this Moon Goddess nonsense. Nothing can go wrong before the sacrifice!"
She observed his performance with a carefully blank expression.
Suddenly, a sultry thought pierced through Silas's consciousness, crashing into Elara's awareness—a mental connection from Chloe, laced with sweet pheromones: "Hurry back to me, darling. I'm getting impatient…"
Silas's expression shifted instantly. He gripped Elara's shoulders, his tone suddenly urgent:
"My love, I must leave immediately."
Elara said nothing, simply watching him with unblinking eyes.
"The southern patrol has been ambushed." The lie rolled effortlessly from his tongue. "It's critical—I must handle it personally."
He turned to leave, but Elara's cool voice stopped him mid-step.
"Strange. I was just informed that the southern patrol returned safely half an hour ago."
Silas's mouth opened and closed, panic flashing across his features as his lie teetered on exposure.
Just as Elara prepared to press further, rapid footsteps echoed from the cave entrance. Damian burst in, breathing heavily:
"Alpha!" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the ancient walls. "Emergency! Enemy wolves spotted at the western border!"
Relief washed over Silas as his momentary crisis evaporated. His expression instantly reset to one of Alpha authority and decisiveness.
"I understand." He turned to Elara with practiced regret. "You see how these matters arise without warning. We'll continue our ceremony later."
Before she could respond, he strode from the cave with Damian, leaving her alone in the sacred space.
Alone in the ancient chamber, Elara traced the names etched into the oath stone—cold and hard beneath her fingers, much like her heart had become. She pulled her hand away and turned from this sanctuary of lies.
Rather than returning to her chambers, Elara headed straight for Silas's private study.
She pushed open the heavy door, immediately assaulted by an unfamiliar pheromone signature—sickeningly sweet with aggressive undertones. Chloe's scent.
She approached his bookshelf and pulled out a leather-bound volume. Opening it, she was hit with Chloe's distinctive scent wafting from the pages. Fighting back another wave of nausea, she slammed the book shut and shoved it back in place.
Her eyes methodically scanned the room. Silas's arrogance would be his downfall—he never imagined she would dare search his private domain.
The evidence she sought must be here somewhere. Her gaze moved from desk to fireplace, finally settling on the massive bed dominating the room.
Elara approached and heaved up the thick mattress.
Wedged between frame and mattress lay a worn leather document envelope.
She extracted a single sheet—a medical report bearing the wolf doctor's official seal.
Chloe's name headed the document. In the diagnosis section, two words stood out starkly: "two weeks pregnant."
Elara's fingers tightened, crumpling the paper's edge as cold fury washed through her.
She flipped the page to find a hastily scrawled note in Silas's distinctive handwriting.
"After ritual, eliminate the obstacle."
