Chapter 4

The morning sun was a cruel, bright eye as I stepped into the Neutral Zone—a grey, lawless expanse where blood bonds were untraceable, and histories were rewritten in smoke.

I dropped my SIM card into a sewer grate and watched the last tether to my old life sink. I was no longer a daughter of House Silas or the fated mate of a Pureblood. I was a ghost.

***

Back at the Grand Cathedral, the air was thick with impatient luxury. Alaric stood at the altar for the second time in twenty-four hours, adjusting his sapphire cufflinks. My father, Silas, paced the aisle, his eyes darting to the entrance.

"She’s late. Again," Silas hissed, his voice echoing. "The girl has no sense of decorum."

"She’s sulking, Silas," Alaric replied, his voice a jagged edge of indifference. "She’ll walk through those doors, play the martyr, and take the secondary vows. She has nowhere else to go."

He dialed my number. But the phone was switched off. The ignorance irritated him.

“I swear if she doesn't show up within half an hour, she can just forget the wedding.” He spat.

At that moment, a courier in a neutral grey uniform entered. He didn't head for the bride's room; he walked straight to the altar and handed Alaric a small, heavy wooden box.

"A final delivery from Elara," the man said, before vanishing back into the shadows.

Alaric opened the lid. Inside lay the DNA results from the clinic, a digital drive labeled Blackwood Bridge Footage, and the heart-shaped pendant that had belonged to his mother.

"She is not done throwing tantrums yet," Alaric sneered, his eyes barely glancing at the papers. “What points does she want to make by sending my mom’s pendant back instead of showing up here?”

He didn't even read the word Miscarriage printed in bold at the top, or notice the pen drive containing the evidence against Celeste. He only saw the pendant—the most sacred heirloom of his line—lying there like a piece of junk.

"If she wants to throw away my mother’s legacy over a tantrum, let her."

He tossed the box into the velvet-lined trash bin near the priest’s podium with a dull thud. “I’m done with her already. If Celeste hadn't told me how she had been bullying her ever since she arrived in the House, even ruining her full transformation, I would still have been loving a scheming and vicious woman like her.”

“I feel devastated to give birth to such a cruel and jealous daughter.” My father said, “Thanks, the lord, I have Celeste. She is kind and filial, unlike Elara, arrogant and scheming.”

"Let’s go find Celeste," Silas grumbled. "She’s likely in the vestry, still shaken from yesterday."

“She wanted to attend the wedding and clap for her sister’s big day. But, I asked her to rest.” Silas added, and Alaric's eyes darkened even more.

How pitiful Celeste was, dying because of her sister’s ploy, sharing the love of her life with the same sister, and still wanting to cheer her up.

On the other hand, Elara, the woman he loved for years, was only a big bully to her sister, trying to kill her and throwing tantrums over her little happiness. He thought as he walked out of the small banquet he had arranged, heading for his plane and the simple wedding with Elara.

They strode toward the back rooms, but as they approached the heavy oak door of the Celeste’s rest chamber, a familiar, honey-sweet voice filtered through the wood. It wasn't shaking. It was laughing.

"The wolves were too efficient, Fenris," Celeste’s voice rang out, clear and triumphant.

"I told you to delay her, not almost kill her before the vows. But it worked perfectly. Alaric thinks she hired you. Thanks to the heirloom you robbed from her. My father thinks she’s a traitor. And the best part? She actually thought her ‘pregnancy’ would save her. I’ve never seen a more pathetic look on a woman’s face than when Alaric turned his back on her in that bloodbath."

A low, canine growl responded. "The payment, Siren. My pack doesn't play 'wedding' for free."

"You’ll get your gold," Celeste purred. "Now that I'm the legal Lady of the House, I have all of Elara’s dowry at my fingertips. She’s gone, the baby is dead, and I have everything."

“Besides, I have been sacrificing our Clan's fighters to feed your wolves. What more do you expect?”

Outside the door, the color drained from Alaric’s face until he looked like a true corpse.

Pregnant?

Was Elara actually pregnant?

Was she not lying?

‘She is gone, the baby is dead.' Celeste’s words echoed in his head in repetition.

Beside him, Silas’s hand began to shake with the terrifying realization of what they had just thrown in the trash.

While he rushed back to collect the box they had dumped into the trash, Alaric walked in with the speed of light.

He walked past the werewolf standing inside and stopped right before Celeste. Her eyes turned pale, her whole body frozen as he grabbed her by her neck and asked, “What did you just say?”