Chapter 7: The Ceremony Will Be Held Tomorrow

(Alexander’s POV)

The chill of the Blood Moon Feast still clung to my skin as I walked briskly through the pack corridors, the heavy silence of the night pressing down on me. My wolf was restless, pacing in the back of my mind, snarling at every stray sound or movement.

The entire evening had been nothing but a series of bitter humiliations. The ritual, Sophia’s defiance, Victoria collapsing theatrically—none of it sat right with me.

And then there was Grace.

The way she had held that chalice with trembling hands, her violet eyes filled with unreadable emotion. My wolf had stirred, agitated by something unspoken, but I had ignored it, like I always did when it came to her.

Now, as I made my way toward my chambers, I couldn’t let the unease settle. My gut told me something was wrong—something beyond the feast’s spiraling chaos.

A faint, almost imperceptible scent stopped me in my tracks.

Silver.

I froze, my wolf surging violently beneath my skin, its growl rumbling low in my chest.

The scent wasn’t coming from inside the chambers—it was outside.

Quick, predatory steps brought me to the balcony doors. The sharp tang of silver grew stronger as I pushed the doors open, the cold night air slamming into me.

There she was.

Grace was crumpled against the balcony railing, her silver-blonde hair glimmering under the full moon. Her petite frame shivered violently, her breaths shallow and uneven.

“Grace!” My voice ripped through the air as I closed the space between us in seconds.

She didn’t respond. Didn’t stir. Her delicate features were pale, far too pale, and her hands were barely moving as they clutched weakly at the rail.

I crouched down and scooped her up in my arms, my breath hitching at the faint burns spreading across her skin.

Silver poisoning.

Who had dared expose her to this?

My wolf howled, its rage threatening to consume me as her faint scent mixed with the pungent poison. I cradled her closer, her icy skin searing against my warmth.

“Grace, wake up,” I said, my voice low but commanding.

Her eyelids fluttered slightly, a weak groan escaping her lips. Relief shot through me at the small sign of life, but it was short-lived as another surge of anger flooded my chest.

My wolf wanted blood.

It wanted to tear apart whoever had done this to her, whoever had left her like this. My mind spun with possibilities, the fury boiling hotter with each passing second.

“Stay with me,” I whispered harshly, standing with her limp body still pressed against my chest.

The guards stationed near the corridor rushed forward as I carried her inside. Their faces were pale, fear etched in their eyes.

“Alpha,” one of them stammered, “we… couldn’t intervene. Without your—”

My growl erupted, cutting him off before he could finish.

They lowered their heads instantly, trembling under the weight of my rising wrath.

I didn’t have time for excuses, for explanations. My priority was Grace. The repercussions of this betrayal could wait until later.

Inside my chambers, I laid her carefully on the edge of the bed. Her soft, shallow breaths made my chest tighten in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge.

I grabbed the emergency pack of medicine from the nearby cabinet, my movements hurried but precise. The salve would draw out the silver poisoning. It had to work—it always worked.

Kneeling beside her, I whispered, “Grace, I need you to hold on.”

Her violet eyes cracked open slightly, their usual brightness dulled by exhaustion. “No medicine,” she murmured weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I frowned. “You’re poisoned, Grace. You don’t get to—”

“No medicine,” she interjected softly but firmly. Her trembling hand rose, gripping mine weakly. “Bath… the cold will help.”

Her stubbornness was infuriating. My wolf growled low, but her small hand was still wrapped around mine, faint but unyielding.

“Fine,” I snapped, shoving the salve aside. “But you’re not doing this alone. You’re too weak.”

She didn’t argue, her lashes drifting shut as her energy faded further. My irritation flared, but beneath it was an unfamiliar, gnawing worry.

I lifted her again, cradling her carefully as I carried her to the adjoining bath. The large tub filled quickly as I adjusted the water’s temperature, my wolf growling possessively at her trembling frame.

This wasn’t a position I ever imagined—to be tending to her like this. My wolf clawed at the edges of my mind, furious with me for ever letting this happen to our mate.

She once again attempted to push me away, her weak protests falling on deaf ears. “You… don’t have to,” she muttered, her voice strained.

I ignored her. “You might drown if you try this alone, Grace.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she said nothing.

I set her into the steaming water slowly, my hands steady despite the chaos raging inside me.

Her beauty struck me suddenly, painfully. Even like this, pale and vulnerable, she possessed an undeniable strength that stirred something visceral in both me and my wolf.

Her voice broke the silence. “Thank you… Alpha.”

It wasn’t gratitude—it was detachment. A reminder of the widening abyss between us. My jaw tightened.

“I’m your mate,” I snapped, my voice sharper than intended. “Stop acting like you’re a stranger in this pack, Grace.”

Her violet eyes opened, piercing into mine. “We won’t be mates much longer,” she said simply. Her voice was calm, but something in her words cut deeper than I expected.

Rage flared in my chest, hot and relentless. “Is that what you want? To dissolve the bond and run off to him?”

She looked confused, her brows furrowing faintly. “What are you talking about?”

“Ethan,” I growled, the name boiling on my tongue. “Don’t lie to me, Grace. I’ve heard you call for him in your sleep.”

Her lips parted in shock, her weakened state momentarily forgotten. “You… you think—”

“Don’t deny it!” I barked, the anger in my tone belied by the desperation clawing at my throat.

Her eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and something else I couldn’t name. “You’re unreal, Alexander,” she whispered.

The words hit me harder than I wanted to admit. But I refused to back down.

“The ceremony will be at moonrise tomorrow,” I said harshly, rising to my feet abruptly.

Her expression didn’t waver, but I saw the faintest flicker of emotion in her gaze—a glimpse of hurt she wouldn’t let me see fully.

“Fine,” she whispered, leaning back against the tub.

I stormed out before I could do or say something I might regret.

---

(Silver Moon Bar)

The bar was dimly lit, with the sounds of muted conversations and clinking glasses filling the air. I sat at the corner table, my fingers gripping a glass of whiskey far too tightly.

James sat across from me, his gray eyes flicking toward the tension etched into every line of my expression.

“You sure this is the best way to celebrate?” he asked cautiously, gesturing toward the bottle between us.

“It’s not a celebration,” I snapped, downing the contents of my glass in one go.

James raised a brow. “Could’ve fooled me. Victoria’s back. The mate-bond dissolution’s happening tomorrow. Your future’s wide open, Alexander.”

He spoke casually, but his words dug under my skin.

I slammed the empty glass down harder than necessary, the sound reverberating across the table. “Do you have something to say, James? Because if you do, stop tiptoeing around it.”

My wolf stirred angrily, its red glow burning faintly behind my eyes.

James hesitated, his expression unreadable. “Nothing, Alpha. Just making casual conversation.”

I snorted, pouring another glass. “Isn’t that your specialty?”

He didn’t reply, his gaze lingering on me a second longer before shifting away.

The whiskey burned my throat as I drank, but it wasn’t enough to dull the storm raging inside me.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face—Grace, pale and trembling under the moonlight.

The faint scent of her lingering poison still clung to me, searing against my senses like a reminder of how badly I’d failed her.

And yet, I couldn’t escape the nagging thought that tomorrow, it would all be over.

The mate bond would be dissolved.

She would be free.

So why did my wolf snarl every time I thought about it? Why did the idea of her leaving rip something primal from within me?

I downed another glass, the burn of alcohol doing little to ease the ache at my core.

Instead, it only amplified the weight of my wolf’s unrest—its fury, its yearning, its sorrow.

Even as James muttered something else about pack business or Victoria’s health, I couldn’t hear him.

All I could hear was the sound of Grace’s name, echoing over and over in the back of my mind.