C4

"Here, take these gold coins and open the lock right now!"

Celestine’s hushed voice whispers through the iron bars of the cell door, her shaking hands shoving a heavy leather pouch toward the two guards.

I lie in the shadow of the damp wall, watching through slit eyes. The guards glance at the bag, then look at each other with filthy, slow grins. The larger guard grabs Celestine’s wrist, yanking her against the cell bars until she gasps in pain.

"Gold is nice, girl," the large guard chuckles, his foul breath steaming in the dungeon cold. "But we want something sweeter from the Luna’s pretty servant before we throw away our keys."

Celestine whimpers, thrashing against his heavy grip. The second guard laughs, reaching out to rip her dress at the collar.

They do not notice me moving in the dark.

For three days I have been scraping a broken link of my silver shackle against the rough stone floor, grinding the edge into a jagged razor. Pain shoots through my bare arms as I spring up from the dirt, my feet making zero sound on the stone.

I wrap the sharpened silver link around the large guard’s throat and yank backward with every ounce of strength left in my body.

The metal slices deep through his flesh like butter. A spray of warm, thick blood bursts across the iron bars, splashing over Celestine’s terrified face. The guard gurgles, his hands dropping from Celestine as he clutches his neck, collapsing onto the stone in a wet, heavy heap.

"Ada!" Celestine gasps, her hands flying to her mouth.

The second guard stumbles back, pulling his dagger with a frantic shout. But heavy boots already thunder down the stone corridor. Four elite Alpha guards burst around the corner, weapons drawn, pinning me against the bloody wall before I can grab the keys.

Micheal steps into the cell doorway moments later, his dark eyes taking in the dead guard and the pool of blood at my feet. He does not order them to kill me.

"Keep her alive," Micheal says flatly, his voice echoing with ruthless coldness. "The pack expects a show tonight. She will kneel in front of everyone before she dies."

Hours later, I am dragged out to the high balcony overlooking the central moon pool.

The entire pack is gathered in the vast stone courtyard below, hundreds of wolves standing under the light of the full moon. The air is thick with heat, scent, and harsh whispering. Micheal stands on the elevated marble platform above the shimmering silver pool, dressed in his ceremonial Alpha leather. Cecelia sits beside him on a wooden throne, wearing a velvet robe, holding her hand over her stomach.

Elizabeth steps forward, holding a heavy iron microphone, her face twisted in absolute authority.

The guards shove me onto the marble platform, forcing my bloody knees down onto the edge near the edge of the water. The silver pool below glows with a deadly, swirling liquid light, known to dissolve the wolf essence of any traitor who touches it.

"Kneel and announce it!" Micheal commands, his Alpha voice booming over the speaker system, crushing down on my shoulders like a ton of lead. "Tell the pack you are sterile and cursed! Beg Cecelia for forgiveness for trying to steal her mate!"

My chest heaves. My wolf is silent, locked behind the dark seal on my neck, but my human pride burns like molten iron.

I do not kneel.

I push against the crushing weight of his Alpha command, my bones creaking, my muscles tearing as I force myself upright. I stand on my two feet, stepping directly to the edge of the microphone.

"People of the Bloodmoon Pack!" I scream, my raspy voice ringing across the silent courtyard. "I am not sterile! I am poisoned by the woman standing next to your Alpha!"

I raise my arm, my hand dripping blood, and point my index finger straight at Elizabeth’s pale, frozen face.

The courtyard explodes into chaos. Elders gasp, pack members shout in shock, and Elizabeth’s jaw snaps shut as terror flashes across her eyes.

"She’s mad!" Elizabeth shrieks into the air. "Throw her into the pool!"

Before the guards can move, Cecelia rushes forward from her throne, her face twisted with fake rage. "You will not ruin my mate’s night, you placeholder bitch!"

Cecelia lunges, her hands slamming hard into my chest, shoving me backward toward the edge of the silver pool.

My feet slip over the slick marble ledge. Gravity pulls me down into the glowing abyss. But as my body tilts backward, my hands snap forward like striking snakes.

I grab Cecelia’s wrist in a vise grip and drag her over the ledge with me.

Both of us plummet into the shimmering silver pool.

The moment we hit the liquid, a deafening scream tore out of Cecelia’s throat. The silver water boils instantly upon contact with her skin. Thick, black, foul-smelling smoke rises off her body, hissing furiously as the sacred silver water violently rejects her flesh. Her skin sizzles and bubbles into dark patches, revealing the truth beneath her glamour.

The pack screams from above in total horror. Cecelia does not possess a wolf. She is an unholy creature of dark magic, completely burned by the sacred moon water.

"She’s not a wolf!" a pack elder shouts from above. "The silver burns her!"

I sink into the heavy, glowing liquid, the cold magic wrapping around my skin like freezing liquid ice. The weight of my iron chains pulls me straight down toward the dark, bottomless depth of the pool.

Above the surface, the water ripples violently.

Micheal dives headfirst into the glowing pool. His powerful arms slice through the silver water, surging straight toward us.

He swims right past my sinking body, his eyes completely ignoring my outstretched, bleeding hand. He grabs Cecelia around her waist, pulling her thrashing, burning body up toward the surface, leaving me to drown in the dark.

I sink deeper and deeper, the light from the surface fading into a distant, hazy glow.

My lungs burn for air. I open my mouth, and the silver water pours down my throat, filling my chest with heavy, icy pressure. Darkness closes in on the edges of my vision.

Through the clear liquid, I look up one last time.

Micheal breaks the surface above, lifting Cecelia onto the stone ledge. He pulls her tight against his chest, wrapping his arms around her charred body, and presses his lips firmly against her mouth, desperately breathing life back into her.

My heart shatters into dust inside my chest as I sink further into the pitch-black depth.

I turn my head toward the dark bottom of the pool, accepting my end.

Resting at the floor of the deep pool, sitting on a throne of smooth black stone, is a woman surrounded by a shimmering, golden light.

I freeze. The woman is wearing a dress made of starlight, and her face is identical to mine in every single detail—the same eyes, the same nose, the same lips.

The woman looks up at me as I sink toward her. She smiles softly, her dark eyes glowing with ancient, divine power.

She parts her glowing lips underwater, and her voice echoes clearly inside my mind, uttering a single, impossible word:

"Breathe."