The Plan

The night was cold and silence was everywhere. I Ronan just stood still in the center of the room as he faced the spy that was sent to Derek’s mansion.

The spy leaned casually against a rickety table, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease. “She’s growing stronger,” he reported. “I don’t think the manipulation is holding the way it used to. She’s starting to question things.”

Ronan’s face twisted with irritation. “I know. I felt it the moment she fought back in her dream. She saw me. Not fully—but enough to shake the illusion.”

The spy narrowed his eyes. “You said she was just a weakling. A pawn. If she’s breaking free—”

“She is,” Ronan cut in, voice low and sharp. “But let’s not pretend she was ever my target. That girl—Diva—was never meant to survive this.”

The spy said nothing, watching Ronan closely.

“She was just a tool,” Ronan continued, pacing slowly. “A cursed thread in the bond between her and Derek. That fool had everything—power, loyalty, the title—and he ruined it. He chose to betray me. And I promised myself I’d destroy him piece by piece.”

He stopped, his jaw clenched. “So I cursed him. I tied him to a Luna who would be weak, helpless. The mate bond was poisoned from the start. That girl doesn’t even know she was manipulated into becoming Luna. She was never meant to be by his side. Never meant to lead.”

Ronan’s eyes gleamed with hatred. “But Derek accepted her cause the soothsayer confirmed she was his Luna. And now, despite all my efforts, she’s starting to grow. She’s no longer the frightened girl we marked. That means the bond is trying to mend itself. That means the curse is unraveling.”

The spy frowned. “So what do we do?”

“We act,” Ronan said, voice like steel. “We move to the final part of the spell. We spill her blood.”

Silence followed. The weight of the words lingered in the air like smoke.

“Her death will break the bond,” Ronan said firmly. “And once the bond is broken, Derek will fall. Without a Luna, without the unity of his pack, he will crumble. That’s when I strike.”

The spy gave a low whistle. “You really want him destroyed, don’t you?”

Ronan turned sharply. “You don’t understand. Derek betrayed the ancient laws. He crossed me, turned others against me and that lead to my banishment." His voice faltered, filled with fury. “While I’ve been forced into the shadows.”

“I’m not just killing her,” he added coldly. “I’m tearing down everything he built.”

The spy nodded. “Then we need to plan carefully. She’s still inside his protection. We slip once, and the entire pack will come after us.”

Ronan’s mouth curled into a smirk. “That’s why we have to be very careful to avoid that.”

He walked over to a chest in the corner and pulled out a scroll of old parchment. He spread it across the table, revealing symbols drawn in red ink, spells etched with hatred and power.

“This is the binding script. Once her blood hits this parchment, the curse will anchor. Derek’s wolf will turn on him. His leadership will fracture. His allies will abandon him. The curse will finish what I started.”

The spy looked at the paper, then back at Ronan. “How do you plan to get to her?”

Ronan's gaze darkened. “There’s a ceremony next full moon. A tribute to the Moon Goddess. She’ll be there—unguarded, dressed in white, surrounded by those who believe in peace. That’s when we strike.”

“Won’t that be too risky?” the spy asked. “She’s always with the guards. Derek’s watching her closely.”

“Which is why we’ll create a distraction,” Ronan said calmly. “Something big enough to pull Derek away. Something that will make him think the threat is coming from outside the borders.”

The spy’s mouth tightened. “A rogue attack?”

Ronan gave a nod. “We’ll stir the rogues. Feed them a lie. Give them a reason to charge. While the warriors are distracted, we’ll finish what we started.”

The fire in the cabin crackled louder, casting long, shifting shadows on their faces.

Ronan’s voice dropped into a whisper. “She was never the Luna he was meant to have. Just a fragile puppet. And once she’s gone, Derek will have no choice but to face the truth—and me.”

The spy stared at him for a moment, then straightened. “I’ll be ready.”

Ronan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. Because the end begins soon. And when it does, there will be no mercy.”

Outside, the wind howled like a wounded wolf.

Inside, vengeance took root.