Chapter 13

Chapter 13

VIOLET’S POV

I was still shaking when we got back to the packhouse. The Council hearing had drained every bit of energy I had left.

"You were incredible in there," Damian said softly as we walked through the entrance. "I'm proud of you."

I managed a weak smile, but my mind kept replaying Kian's final words. They wouldn't know what hit them.

"Get some rest," Damian said, squeezing my hand gently. "I have some territory matters to handle, but I'll check on you later."

I nodded and headed upstairs to my room. All I wanted was to lie down and forget everything for a while.

I barely made it to my bed when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," I called out tiredly.

Elena entered with a soft smile, carrying a tray with tea and cookies. "I’m sorry I left the hearing before they finished. I thought you might need this."

"Thank you," I said, genuinely touched. "That's really kind of you."

She set the tray on my bedside table and sat on the edge of my bed. "How are you holding up? That must have been so difficult."

"It was," I admitted. "But it's over now."

"I'm so glad you stood up for yourself," Elena said warmly. "You were so brave. A lot of women wouldn't have had that courage."

I took a sip of the tea. It was exactly how I liked it.

"Can I be honest with you about something?" Elena asked, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Woman to woman?"

"Of course."

She hesitated, like she was choosing her words carefully. "I've known Damian my whole life. He's a good man. One of the best, actually. But he has his flaws, just like anyone else."

I set down my cup. "What do you mean?"

"Don't get me wrong, he genuinely cares about people," Elena said quickly. "But sometimes I worry that he loves playing hero a bit too much. Especially when it comes to Kian."

My stomach tightened.

"I just mean…" Elena touched my arm gently. "The way he defended you today was passionate. Maybe a little too passionate. I couldn't help but wonder how much of it was about protecting you, and how much was about beating his brother."

"You think he defended me just to hurt Kian?" I asked quietly.

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all," Elena said, shaking her head. "I'm sure he cares about you. I just want you to be aware that their rivalry runs deep. Damian has spent his whole life trying to prove he's better than Kian. Sometimes that drive can cloud judgment."

She squeezed my hand. "I only mention it because I care about you. And because I know what it's like to be caught between those two. I wouldn't want you to get hurt again."

"I appreciate that," I said, even though her words left me feeling unsettled.

"You deserve someone who wants you for you," Elena continued. "Not as a trophy to win or a way to get back at someone else. Just promise me you'll keep your eyes open, okay?"

"Okay," I whispered.

Elena smiled and stood up. "Good. Now drink your tea and get some rest. You've earned it."

After she left, I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. Was Damian just playing hero? Did he defend me so passionately because he cared, or because it gave him a chance to humiliate Kian publicly?

I hated that the doubt was there now, creeping in like poison.

The next morning, I found another letter slipped under my door.

My hands trembled as I opened it.

"I know you wake up at 6:30am every day. I know you take your tea with honey. I know exactly where your prosthetic arm is weakest. One twist and it's gone. Just like the real one."

I dropped the letter like it burned me.

This was the third one in two days. Each one more detailed than the last. Someone was watching me. Someone close enough to know my routine.

I grabbed the letters and went straight to Elena's room. She was the only person I felt I could talk to about this without feeling weak.

"Violet?" She opened the door in her robe. "What's wrong?"

I showed her the letters, my voice shaking as I explained.

Elena read through them carefully, her face serious. Then she handed them back to me.

"Empty threats," she said firmly.

"But they know things," I protested. "Personal things about my daily routine."

"That's the point," Elena said, crossing her arms. "Whoever is sending these wants you scared. They want you looking over your shoulder constantly. Don't give them that power."

"But what if…"

"Violet." Elena's voice was gentle but firm. "If you run to Damian every time something scary happens, you'll never be seen as strong enough to be Luna. This pack needs someone with tough skin. Someone who doesn't crumble under pressure."

I felt my cheeks heat with shame. She was right. I was being weak.

"The ceremony is in less than two weeks," Elena continued. "You need to focus on that. On proving to everyone that you belong here. Worrying about anonymous letters will only distract you."

"You're right," I said quietly.

"I know this is hard," Elena said, softening her tone. "But you've survived so much worse than threatening letters. You're stronger than you think."

She smiled. "Actually, I was going to come find you later anyway. I wanted to offer my help with ceremony training. I've been to dozens of Luna ceremonies. I know exactly what's expected."

"Really? You'd help me?"

"Of course," Elena said warmly. "We're pack now. Sisters, practically."

The training started that afternoon in the ceremonial hall. Elena had me practice the traditional positions and movements required during the ceremony.

"Okay, now you'll need to perform the unity dance with Damian," Elena explained. "It's a symbolic gesture showing you move as one."

She demonstrated the movements. They were beautiful and fluid, requiring both arms extended and intertwined.

I tried to follow along, but my prosthetic arm couldn't bend the same way. I stumbled through the movements awkwardly.

"Hmm," Elena said, tapping her chin. "This might be more challenging than I thought."

"I can do it," I insisted. "I just need practice."

"Of course you can," Elena agreed quickly. "I'm just wondering if maybe we should modify the dance slightly. The Council and visiting Alphas will be watching. We want everything to look perfect."

"You mean make it easier because of my arm," I said flatly.

"I mean make it work for your unique situation," Elena corrected gently. "There's no shame in adapting traditions to fit your needs."

But it felt like shame. It felt like proof that I wasn't good enough.

We continued practicing for another hour. With each mistake, each awkward movement my prosthetic couldn't complete, I felt Elena's eyes on me. Watching. Judging.

"You're doing great," she kept saying. But her smile never quite reached her eyes.

When she finally left, I collapsed on the floor of the ceremonial hall, exhausted and frustrated.

Another letter was waiting under my door when I returned to my room.

"I watched you stumble through training today. So pathetic. You'll never be Luna. You can barely even move properly."

I crumpled it in my fist, fighting back tears.

Later that night, Elena moved quietly through the darkened hallway. She paused outside Violet's door, listening carefully.

Silence.

She pulled out a key—the master key all senior pack members had for emergencies—and slipped it into the lock. The door opened without a sound.

Inside, Violet was fast asleep, her breathing deep and even.

Elena moved like a shadow toward the wardrobe. She opened it slowly, careful not to make any noise. Her hands found the drawer where Violet kept her undergarments.

She selected a delicate piece of lace—something intimate, something personal—and tucked it quickly into her pocket.

Elena glanced back at Violet's sleeping form one more time. For a moment, something cold flickered across her face. Then she smoothed it away and slipped back out the door.