Chapter 30

Lucy.

His lips tasted like everything I didn’t know I needed—heat, promise, danger. Alpha Ellison’s hand cupped my jaw so gently it made my heart ache, like he was trying to memorize the shape of me, the feel of my breath against his skin.

My body trembled as the kiss deepened, slow but burning, and for a moment—just a moment—I let myself sink into it. Into him.

It was overwhelming. It was too much.

And it was almost getting out of hand.

His body pressed into mine, firm, commanding, and I felt every bit of his control slipping, mirroring my own. My breath hitched, and I opened my mouth to speak—to stop this before I fell too far—but then I heard it.

A sound.

A groan. Low, guttural. Male.

My entire body stiffened.

Alpha Ellison instantly pulled back, alert. His head whipped around toward the trees behind us. I turned as well, scanning the shadows, but nothing moved. Not a leaf. Not a branch.

“Did you hear that?” I whispered, already clutching at his arm.

“Yes,” he murmured. His voice had changed—low. “Stay behind me.”

Another sound echoed. This time sharper. Closer.

Like footsteps.

Someone running.

Ellison growled, low in his throat. His muscles began to shift under his skin. His wolf was rising.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. “No matter what, stay behind me.”

The sound came again—branches snapping, something crashing through the woods. My heart pounded as I turned to look.

And that was when I heard it.

A loud crack.

Like a whip cracking the sky open.

No—not a whip.

A gunshot.

I spun around.

“No!” I screamed.

Ellison gasped, his body jerking forward before crumpling to the forest floor.

“Ellison!” I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands trembling as I reached for him. His chest was heaving, his eyes glazed with pain. “Ellison, stay with me. Please—just stay awake.”

There was blood. So much blood. It soaked through his shirt, thick and dark.

“No, no, no—this can’t be happening—” My voice cracked as I pressed both hands to the wound.

He winced. “Poison…”

My heart sank. “What?”

His lips barely moved. “Bullet… poison…”

That was all I needed to hear.

I scrambled to my feet and ran. I didn’t care that I was barefoot now, didn’t care that the branches scratched my arms or that I could barely see through the tears.

“Help!” I screamed as I broke through the tree line, my voice echoing through the cold night air. “Help!”

It felt like hours before people came—guards, medics, warriors. Everything was a blur of flashing lights and voices yelling over each other. They rushed Ellison away, and I followed blindly, blood on my dress, on my hands, in my hair.

I stood in the hospital hallway, shaking, my arms wrapped around myself. Elizabeth finally found me and threw a blanket over my shoulders, but it did nothing to warm me.

“It was poison,” one of the doctors confirmed to the crowd gathered outside the surgical ward. “The bullet was coated in it. And worse—it came from inside the pack. The weapon was military-grade, standard issue for our inner guard.”

My stomach dropped.

Someone in the pack wanted Ellison dead.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Elizabeth touched my face, gently brushing the tears away.

“Who would do this?” I whispered.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The air between us was thick with dread.

I don’t remember the ride back to the palace.

I remember the silence. I remember my fingers still stained red. I remember my heart still thudding, not from fear, but from the absence of his heartbeat beside mine.

I couldn’t bear to go to my room.

Instead, I found myself walking toward his. The guards let me through without a word, eyes heavy with unspoken questions.

His room smelled like him—pine, smoke, and something distinctly male. I shut the door and leaned against it, letting the quiet wrap around me. I didn’t bother changing. I just dropped the blanket and crawled into his bed, curling against the pillow that still held his scent.

I don’t know how long I laid there. Minutes? Hours?

Then—I heard a noise at the door.

A soft, careful turn of the handle. 

I shot upright, my heart in my throat. Without thinking, I dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed, curling into the smallest version of myself I could manage. My breath was shallow. Silent.

The door creaked open.

Footsteps. Two sets.

Heels and boots.

I watched their shadows stretch across the floor, long and distorted by the moonlight.

Then I heard their voices.

“I told you we shouldn’t waste time,” said a voice I’d recognize anywhere.

Ethan.

I clenched my fists under the bed.

“We have to find it before the Alpha wakes up,” came a female voice. Cool. Sharp. Calculated.

The Luna Dowager.

My blood went cold.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Ethan asked, his tone annoyed. “If I’m going to do your dirty work, you might want to loop me in.”

“You’ll know it when you see it,” she snapped. “Check the desk. I’ll search the drawers.”

I heard them moving. Drawers opening. Papers scattering. Wood slamming against wood.

I didn’t dare breathe.

“Why do you care so much about this stupid letter?” Ethan muttered. “It’s not like he’s—”

“Do not question me,” she hissed.

He went quiet.

I pressed my forehead to the cold floor and squeezed my eyes shut. What were they looking for? A letter? What could be so important that the king’s own mother would risk being caught?

And why was Ethan helping her?

Something sharp and bitter rose in my chest. Why were they trying so hard to bring the alpha down? Something evil was really brewing in this palace and I honestly don't want to be part of it.

They stayed in the room for what felt like an eternity. Tearing it apart. Cursing. Whispering.

“I don’t see it,” Ethan growled.

“It has to be here!” she snapped.

More searching. More silence.

And then, finally—

“Damn

it,” she said. “We’ll have to come back.”

Footsteps again.

Leaving.

The door clicked shut.

And then—I was alone.

But I didn’t move. Not for a long time.