ATASHA’S POV
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“You-” Genevieve’s voice faltered, her expression twisting in something between shock and irritation. For a moment, she looked genuinely speechless, as if she hadn’t expected that resistance at all. “Atasha… how could you say something like that?” She looked around the tent as if scared that someone else would suddenly barge in and punish me for saying those words.
“I think the Lord wanted me dead,” I whispered, just loud enough for my voice to tremble between us. “The maid… the maid was wearing something like those soldiers. She said… she said… it was the Lord who wanted me to have the tea. We need to let the King know and have a divorce before he kills me… Mother, please. You must save me.”
Genevieve’s eyes widened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of panic, not for me, but for what I’d just said. Her gaze darted around the tent, scanning for hidden ears. “Atasha!” she hissed, lowering her voice in a sharp whisper. “Do you realize what you’re saying? The marriage certificate you signed should have already arrived at the castle. As far as thew is concerned, you are now legally married to Lord Cassian. There’s no going back.”
“Do you understand what it would mean to divorce a royal? Especially that royal? You’d be tried for treason, if not executed outright. You need to stop this foolishness, immediately.”
“But-” I started, letting my lower lip tremble.
“But what?” she snapped, her tone clipped. “Did you want your sister to marry him instead? Is
that it?<b>” </b>
I opened my mouth, then slowly closed it, eyes downcast. I didn’t answer, because I didn’t have to. That was exactly what I wanted her to think. A frightened, reluctant bride. One terrified of her husband. One clinging to her mother for protection.
Yes, let them <i>see </i>that.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught it, a flicker of movement. A nce. So subtle it almost looked like it’s nothing. But it was there,
Genevieve looked at Celeste. It was the kind of nce most people wouldn’t notice. Once, I wouldn’t have either.
But now? Now, I saw everything.
It was a signal. A cue passed between them like actors on a stage. And right on time, Celeste moved. She glided to my side, knelt beside the bed with grace, and took my hand like it was
instinct.
11:06 Wed, Sep <b>10 </b>
Her eyes were red, swollen.
I blinked.
How was that even possible?
Had she really cried that much? Or had she made sure to look like she had?
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Had she forced tears down her cheeks just long enough to stain hershes, only to wash them off behind a veil of pity? I couldn’t tell anymore.
How could someone cry <i>so </i>much and still look this perfect? Was it real? Or… makeup? Drops to mimic tears? A trick she’d practiced until even mirrors believed her?
“I know you’re ming me,” Celeste whispered, her voice cracking just enough to sound like it was holding back tears. I turned to her slowly, brows furrowed. What is she doing?
Then it clicked.
“I know you think it should’ve been me,” she continued, her lips trembling, her hands sped tightly in herp. “That I should’ve been the one to marry Lord Cassian. And maybe you’re right. Maybe I should have. If it meant sparing you from this-” her voice broke, “-then I should’ve taken your ce. Even if only as a concubine… I could’ve gone with you. Maybe it wouldn’t feel so cruel.”
“Celeste, stop,” Genevieve interrupted sharply, her hand flying to her daughter’s arm. “How could you say something like that?”
Her tone was half–scolding, half–panicked, as if Celeste’s words were too dangerous. “Your sister is not heartless. You had taken great care of her since she failed to awaken years ago. How could she let you suffer? She knew you couldn’t survive that man. She married him to protect you. Don’t twist her sacrifice into something ugly with this nonsense.”
I blinked, momentarily stunned.
The way their voices cracked, the trembling hands, the sorrowful nces could easily fool anyone. If I hadn’t heard the truth with my own ears, I might’ve believed they were actually hurting. That Celeste was breaking because of guilt.
But now? All I saw was how seamlessly they shifted roles. Mother, the defender. Celeste, the grieving sister.
“No…” Celeste shook her head. “I can’t let her marry into the North. I can’t–I can’t just watch
that man hurt her.”
“Celeste!”
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“I will talk to Lord Cassian- ”
“Celeste, what are you doing!?” Genevieve hissed. “Stop it. Just- ” Genevieve looked at me as if silently pleading for me to say a word to ease my sister’s guilt but I said nothing. How could I? Celeste’s acting was too convincing, it was so good. “This could destroy our pack! Stop it. Atasha, say something to your sister!”
“I- “I lowered my head. “I am not ming you.”
“I know you are,” Celeste said. “But don’t worry, I will talk to Lord Cassian. I will marry him as
a concubine, and we can travel to the north together. We can protect each other and I-“
“Will you stop?” Genevieve said. “Someone! Someone…e!”
Almost immediately, one of our pack’s omega came in.
“Bring the young miss back to the mansion and do not… let her talk to anyone else.” Genevieve said. “Use force if needed.”
“No- Mother please… don’t.”
I watched as two omegas forcibly pulled Celeste away from me. In the past, this performance would have immediately convinced me to die for her. But right now, I could immediately see the crack beneath it. Celeste had the blood of an Alpha, how could two omegas just drag her
out of the tent?
This was just another act. Something that was designed to make me drown with guilt. “Your sister cares about you so much, she would rather apany you to the north than think about the pack,” Genevieve’s words brought me out of my stupor.
I immediately looked at her.
She continued. “Celeste is the future of our pack. She is meant to lead, and you know that,” Genevieve said.“If Lord Cassian wanted you dead, then his people wouldn’t have saved you.”
Then, with a smile <i>too </i>soft to be trusted, she reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a small ss vial. “I want you to keep this,” she said, pressing it into my palm.
The vial was delicate, Clear ss, corked, no markings, just fine white powder inside, like sifted ash.
“It’s odorless,” she added. “Tasteless, too. If anyone tries to hurt you again… use this. It’s fast. You don’t even need much.”
My fingers curled slowly around the vial, the chill of the ss seeping into my palm.
I didn’t have to ask questions to know what the contents were. It was poison.
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The kind that could drop a werewolf in under a minute. The kind banned in every corner of the kingdom. My heart thudded, but my face stayed calm.
“Thank you,” I said softly, like I meant it. I held the vial tightly as ideas buzzed inside my head. Why hand me poison? Were they trying to frame me?
Make it look like I was plotting to kill Cassian? Or were they hoping I’d actually do it?
No. That couldn’t be it. That shouldn’t be the n.
If I killed Cassian, if I so much as tried, what would happen to my pack? The King would never see it as the act of one frightened, desperate girl. He would see it for what it wasn’t, a political assassination. A betrayal, a scheme orchestrated by Alpha Collin ck himself.
Cassian wasn’t just a northern warhound, and they all knew that. He was the King’s blood. The King’s favorite weapon. The moment word of his death reached the capital, the King wouldn’t send letters.
He would send an army.
Nightfall would be reduced to ash. Nightfall Pack, innocent or not, would be ughtered to make a point. That’s how monarchs ruled.
And no matter how selfish or cruel Genevieve was, no matter how ambitious Celeste had
be… they weren’t stupid.
They wouldn’t risk the annihtion of our pack just to get rid of me. This could mean one thing. This… this vial in my hand, it wasn’t meant for Cassian.
Which left me with only worse possibilities. Either they were trying to frame me for his murder, or they were giving me the means to kill myself.
I stared at her. Really stared at her. And that’s when I realized that… she wanted me to end my own life. She met my gaze as she added. “This is for your sister’s safety. This is all for the pack.”
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Chapter <b>21 </b>
ATASHA’S POV