The Mistress’s Fury

Author’s POV

The maid’s words echoed in Veronica’s mind like a cruel bell: “She sat beside Lady Selene. The Lady held her hand. Even Neris likes her.”

Veronica’s fingers dug into the silk of her gown as she paced her room. The rich fabric that once made her feel like a queen now felt suffocating. How could this be happening?

She had spent years weaving herself into Dylan’s life years of smiles, whispered promises, and stolen nights. She had endured his coldness when he grew distant, clung to the warmth when he allowed her close again, and convinced herself that in time, he would see that no one else could stand at his side the way she could.

But now…now some little slip of a girl had walked in from nowhere, and suddenly the Luna’s chamber belonged to her.

Veronica slammed her fist against the vanity, making the glass perfume bottles tremble. Her reflection glared back at her: flawless beauty, dark eyes sharp as knives, lips painted the color of blood. She had been told all her life she was perfect, irresistible. And yet… she was being pushed aside like nothing.

“No,” she whispered, voice trembling with fury. “No one replaces me.”

The door creaked open. A maid slipped inside, bowing quickly. “My lady, forgive me for disturbing you. But there are more whispers…. They say… the Alpha’s mother is pleased with her.”

The words cut like a blade. Veronica spun, her glare freezing the maid in place. “And Lyra?”

The maid hesitated. “She remains cautious. But Lady Neris… she is already attached.”

Veronica’s chest tightened. Selene’s acceptance was bad enough, but Neris’s open affection was worse. If that silly, bright girl clung to Elsa, it would soften even Dylan’s edges. And once Neris adored someone, she would fight anyone who tried to hurt them.

Veronica dismissed the maid with a flick of her hand. When the door closed again, she sank into her chair, trembling. For a long moment, she let herself feel the sting of betrayal the bitter, choking taste of being forgotten.

But then she straightened, smoothing her dress. Anger was dangerous if left raw. She knew better. Anger must be sharpened, shaped, turned into a weapon.

So Lady Selene approves? Neris plays with her like a toy? Let them. Let them all fall for the little girl. It will make her downfall all the sweeter.

A slow smile curved her lips.

She had survived in Dylan’s world not because of love, but because she understood power. And she knew this truth: every pack, no matter how strong, had cracks.

And Elsa sweet, soft-eyed Elsa would not last once those cracks widened.

Veronica rang the bell for her most trusted servant. A tall, thin man slipped inside, bowing deeply. He wasn’t one of Dylan’s men….she was careful never to rely on those who owed their loyalty to the Alpha. This one was hers alone, bought with favors and promises.

“You will listen,” she said, her voice cool and sharp. “You will listen to every whisper that spreads through the halls. You will note every mistake the girl makes every stumble, every hesitation. And when you have enough…”

Her eyes glinted with satisfaction. “We will feed those whispers until they roar.”

The man nodded, his face expressionless. “Yes, my lady.”

When he left, Veronica let herself lean back, thoughts spinning. She would not confront Elsa directly. That would make her seem desperate. No, she would do what she always did work from the shadows, pulling strings until the stage collapsed beneath her rival’s feet.

Still, a part of her burned with unease. Dylan’s choice still haunted her.

Why her? she thought bitterly. Why not me?

She remembered the way his hands had once held her, firm and demanding. The way his voice had dropped low in her ear when he claimed her for a night. He had never promised her forever, but he hadn’t cast her aside either. She had built her world around those fleeting moments, convincing herself they meant more.

And now…

The ache in her chest sharpened into rage. She would not let that slip of a girl take everything she had bled for.

If Elsa thought being Luna was just about looking pretty beside Dylan, she would learn soon enough. Veronica would make sure the pack tore her apart, piece by piece.

As night deepened, Veronica lit a single candle, staring into its flame. Shadows danced across her walls, long and sharp. She imagined Elsa’s face in the flicker innocent, uncertain, too soft for the world she had been thrown into.

She imagined the girl’s fear when the whispers grew into open mockery. When even allies questioned her worth. When Dylan himself saw the pack wavering.

Veronica’s smile widened.

She didn’t need to fight Elsa with claws or fangs. The pack would do it for her.

But beneath her plotting, another thought gnawed at her. Lady Selene’s acceptance had been unexpected. Selene was no fool; she did not open her arms lightly. That meant Elsa had already shown something more than a pretty face.

For the first time, doubt slithered through Veronica’s mind. What if Dylan truly saw something in the girl that he had never seen in her?

Her nails bit into her palms until they stung. “No,” she hissed. “I will not lose.”

She blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. Only her eyes remained bright, burning with determination.

Elsa might have won Selene and Neris for now. But Veronica still had the shadows. And in the shadows, she had always thrived.