C4

Serena POV

"He didn't touch it, did he?" Maren’s voice purrs from the shadows near my bed, sweet as honey and sharp as glass.

I do not answer her right away. I step into my assigned quarters, closing the heavy oak door behind me before turning to face my sister. The lingering scent of seared meat and mountain herbs from the tray I left outside Kael’s study still sits on my skin. In my past life, I would have thrown a screaming tantrum, smashed the dishes against the wall, and cursed Kael’s name until my lungs bled.

This time, I walk calmly to the vanity. My hands do not shake. My posture does not break.

"Alpha Kael is a busy man," I say, my voice smooth and flat. "He eats when he pleases."

Maren glides off the edge of the mattress, her silk gown whispering against the floorboards. She circles me like a vulture, her eyes wide with false, sisterly concern while her sweet chamomile scent fills the quiet room.

"You actually cooked for him?" Maren asks, letting out a soft, mocking laugh. "After the way he spoke to you at the feast? Are you trying to provoke him on purpose, Serena? You know how dangerous his temper is. One wrong move and he will lock you in the stone vaults."

"I am his wife," I reply, meeting her gaze through the mirror. "Bringing my husband a meal is not a crime."

"Husband?" Maren steps directly behind me, her small hands coming down on my shoulders, squeezing just a little too hard. "Is that what you are calling him now? He rejected you at the door, Serena. The guards in the hallway saw it all. You stood there looking like a desperate fool while he shut the door in your face."

My wolf stirs inside my chest, baring her teeth at the physical contact, but I keep my breathing steady.

"He was busy with pack business," I say simply.

"You are lying to yourself," Maren whispers, her lips brushing my ear as her eyes burn with hidden satisfaction. "He hates you. Father traded you away like trash, and Kael knows it. He will never touch you. He will never respect you."

"Are you finished?" I ask quietly.

Maren’s sweet smile stiffens for a fraction of a second. She backs away, her fingers digging into the velvet fabric of her gown as my total lack of panic clearly throws her off balance.

"Ethan called me ten minutes ago," Maren says, dropping her voice into a secretive, dangerous pitch. "He was sobbing, Serena. He said he can't sleep knowing you are in this cold house with a monster. He said if you just cause enough trouble, if you make Kael reject you publicly, Father will have to bring you home."

I turn around slowly to face her. "Ethan left the border before the sun came up."

"He was terrified!" Maren insists, taking a sharp step closer, her eyes glittering with desperation to push me into a rage. "He loves you! He wants you to run! Why are you acting like this? Where is your spine? Why are you bowing down to a man who treats you like an unwanted dog?"

I look at my sister. I look at the venom masked under her beautiful face. In my past life, this exact speech made me break. It made me scream at Kael, demand a divorce, and destroy my own life.

"I already chose not to run," I say, my voice ringing with cold, unyielding finality. "Stop trying to make me choose again, Maren."

Maren opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Her face pales, shock and raw frustration washing over her features as she realizes her poison isn't working anymore.

"Get out of my room," I say softly.

Maren snaps her mouth shut, her jaw clenching tight. She turns on her heel and strides out of the room, slamming the door behind her so hard the iron wall sconces rattle.

I let out a long, slow breath, standing alone in the quiet dark.

Kael POV

"She left," my wolf growls inside my head, his wild voice pacing back and forth against my ribs. "She didn't scream. She didn't throw a fit. She smelled calm... she smelled right."

"Silence," I command internally, staring at the heavy oak door of my study.

I stand rigid in the center of the room. The scent of the meal she left on the side table outside is seeping under the crack of the door, heavy with herbs, roasted meat, and her unmistakable, intoxicating scent of fresh white roses.

"Pick it up," the beast demands, clawing at my chest with desperate, starving fury. "She made it for us! Eat it before Maren touches it!"

"It is a trap," I speak aloud to the empty room, my voice a harsh, gravelly rasp. "Her family wants our bloodlines broken. She is acting. It is all a play to lower my guard."

"She didn't ask for a divorce today," the wolf snaps back, his golden energy flaring hot behind my eyes. "She didn't scream about her lover! She looked us in the eyes and told us she isn't the same. Open the door!"

My jaw aches from clenching it so hard. I step toward the door, my heavy boots silent on the rug. My hand reaches out, hovering over the iron latch.

I shouldn't. I am the Supreme Alpha. I have to chain myself to the stone floor in three hours before the blood curse takes full control of my mind. Touching anything she touched is suicide.

Yet my fingers move on their own.

I pull the heavy oak door open. The corridor is empty, quiet, lit only by the dying torches. The silver tray sits on the small marble table exactly where she left it.

I reach out and lift the heavy silver dome.

The steam hits my face, rich, warm, and completely clean. There is no trace of wolfsbane. No poison. No bitter chemical mask. Just simple, honest food prepared by her hands.

My wolf lets out an agonizing howl of pure, unadulterated need. My eyes flash bright, lethal gold in the shadows of the hall. My claws extend, pricking sharply against the meat of my palms as a dark, dangerous hunger explodes through my veins.

I grab a piece of the seared meat with my bare fingers and shove it into my mouth.

The flavor hits my tongue—rich, perfectly seasoned, filling the hollow, starving pit in my stomach. I chew, swallowing heavily as my wolf purrs in absolute, feral satisfaction inside my chest.

My fingers tighten around the edge of the silver tray. The metal groans under my strength, bending like paper under my bare hands as raw, possessive heat surges through my body.

She made this for me.

"She is ours," the beast snarls, his voice ringing through my entire body with terrifying authority. "Do not let her go again. If she steps toward the border, we tear the world apart."

I shove the silver lid back down, my chest heaving, my heart hammering against my ribs like a war drum.

Serena POV

Night settles completely over Blackthorn manor, cold and heavy.

I stand by the grand arched window of my bedroom, watching the dark, endless forest stretching beyond the stone perimeter walls. The air is freezing, but I don't close the glass. My wolf is quieter than she has been since I woke up in this past life, but a new, electric tension coils deep beneath my skin.

Even with three thick stone walls between us, I can feel the weight of Kael’s presence. It is a heavy, thrumming pulse in the back of my neck, drawing me toward the study wing like an invisible chain.

Suddenly, a faint shadow moves near the edge of the courtyard below.

I lean closer to the glass.

Maren slips out from the side entrance of the servant quarters, her dark cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She looks left, then right, stepping into the deep shadows beneath the stone archway where the torches don't reach.

She pulls a small, silver burner phone out from the folds of her cloak. The blue light reflects off her face, illuminating the cold, venomous smile plastered across her lips.

Her fingers fly across the glass screen, typing rapidly.

My heart gives a hard, violent thud against my ribs. I press my hand against the cold window glass, straining my wolf-hearing to catch any sound, but she is too far away, shrouded in the quiet wind.

Inside my pocket, my own phone buzzes once.

I freeze. I slowly reach into my coat and pull the black device into the dim light. A new notification flashes on the screen. It is an intercepted message log routed directly from the pack's internal security network.

My thumb swipes the glass.

The log shows Maren’s outgoing message, sent to an unlisted, high-encryption number at the rogue border:

‘She is changing. The manipulation isn't working anymore. Send Ethan to the south gate tonight with the silver blade. We move now.’

My blood turns to liquid ice. My breath catches violently in my throat as my eyes read the words over and over again.

Before I can even process the message, a heavy, metallic slam echoes from the deep vaults underneath the manor, shaking the very stone beneath my bare feet. A dark, agonized howl explodes directly through my mind—Kael’s wolf, screaming in feral pain as the heavy iron chains wrap around his body.

And then, my phone lights up with a second incoming text from the same unknown sender:

‘The basement lock is broken. He is coming for you. —K.’