AN ATTACK ON THE PACK

MAYA

Maria began to perform Luna duties with Clara.

For the first time in years, the woman who used to lock herself away in a dark, bitter room was out in the open, putting on a grand show of virtue for the entire territory. They gathered the women of the pack and distributed grains to them, helping the widows, the sick, and the needy at the central plaza.

I stood at the edge of the wooden fence near the practice field, watching them unload heavy sacks of wheat and jars of olive oil from the supply wagons. Maria stood beside Clara, holding the young girl's hand like a proud mother, bowing her head gracefully to every villager who came forward.

"It was her idea," Maria would say, her voice carrying clearly across the crowded square as she pointed at Clara with a warm, theatrical smile. "Clara brought this kindness into our home. She has the heart of a true mother for this pack."

The women of the pack loved her. They smiled at Clara, whispering sweet blessings over her head, bringing her small baskets of wild berries and handmade woven shawls. They bowed to her as if she were already wearing the silver crown of the Luna.

"She is to have the heir," Maria added loudly, loud enough for the elders standing by the pillars to hear. "She will carry the next Alpha into this world!"

Just then, I walked past the arena.

My skirt rustled softly against the dry grass as I carried a basket of freshly washed linen back toward the main palace gates. The moment my feet crossed into the shadow of the central square, the cheerful chatter of the women died down into a cold, uncomfortable hush.

The women shouted, "Oh, she is ill-fated!"

"Look at her," an elder woman spat onto the dirt, shielding her young daughter’s eyes from my direction. "The cursed maid who lost her child and brought dark magic into the Alpha’s hall."

"She brings bad luck to the harvest," another whispered, pulling her cloak tight around her shoulders as if my presence were a freezing wind.

Maria stepped forward, putting her hand over her chest, putting on a look of deep, pious sorrow before the crowd.

"She is not just ill-fated," Maria corrected them, her voice ringing out like a solemn sermon. "She is a walking demon. I can feel it in my very bones every night."

I heard it all, but ignored them.

Every insult, every glare, and every cruel word bounced right off my chest like tiny pebbles hitting a stone wall. No, I did not feel bad because I know the power within me. I held my head high, my eyes fixed straight ahead on the heavy oak doors of the palace. The Pack didn't know that the woman they were calling a demon was the reborn soul of Princess Philomena. They didn't know about the ancient book resting in my room, or the ancestral magic that could turn their world upside down with a single glance at a canvas.

My reason for coming back was to destroy Maria, and not to listen to rumors.

Public opinions did not matter to a rising queen. The opinion of sheep meant nothing to the wolf that was waiting for the right moment to strike.

Now my concern is why has Edward not asked Clara to leave the house.

He had stood up for me on the staircase, holding my hand before the elders and declaring that I was his marked wife. Yet, three whole days had passed since her arrival, and Clara was still sleeping in the guest wing, eating at our table, and parading around the territory like an honored guest. Why was my mate allowing this snake to coil herself around our lives? Was he truly still confused by Maria's manipulation, or was he playing a game of his own?

Later that night, the house grew dead silent.

The wall torches flickered low in the drafty corridors, casting long, dancing shadows across the cold marble. The heavy weight of doubt and impatience grew too heavy for my chest to bear. I needed answers. I couldn't sit in my room waiting for another trap to snap shut around my ankles.

I went to his room to ask why he still allows Clara to stay in the house.

I walked softly down the long, carpeted hallway leading to the Alpha’s private wing. My heart was pounding against my ribs, not out of fear, but out of a desperate need to hear him tell me that he was on my side, that he was just waiting for the right moment to cast Clara into the dark woods.

I reached the massive mahogany doors of the Alpha’s suite and turned the brass handle.

His room door was locked.

I frowned, resting my forehead lightly against the smooth wood. Edward almost never locked his inner chamber doors while he was inside the palace unless he was meeting with the highest military generals.

Not only that, I heard voices.

I froze, pressing my ear firmly against the cold timber, holding my breath until my lungs burned.

There were three voices.

The first voice was crystal clear—it was Maria. She was whispering, her tone low, breathless, and urgent.

The second voice was a bit confusing, as he was not speaking, but breathing fast. I could hear the breath—heavy, ragged, raspy, like a man whose chest was bursting with sudden, uncontrollable heat. It sounded rough and deep, echoing in rhythmic gasps from inside the room.

Then the third voice was not talking, but moaning. Soft, high-pitched, feminine whimpers broke through the quiet air, accompanied by the rustle of heavy velvet blankets and the rhythmic creaking of the massive wooden bed frame.

My stomach dropped into a bottomless, freezing abyss.

Could it be that Edward is sleeping with Clara?

Was my mate—the man whose mark was currently burning like fire against my collarbone—in there right now with both of them? Was he letting Maria guide Clara into his bed while he gave in to the raw, primal urge of his wolf?

A wave of pure, scorching rage exploded behind my eyes, blinding my sight with red.

I hit the door so hard!

BAM! BAM! BAM!

My knuckles slammed against the solid oak, the sound echoing through the empty hallway like thunderous cannon shots.

"Edward!" I screamed, my voice cracking with absolute betrayal and raw fury. "Open this door right now! Open it!"

No one spoke.

The moment my fists hit the wood, the soft moaning stopped instantly. The heavy breathing was cut short, and the whispers died away into a suffocating, terrifying stillness.

They all kept quiet while I knocked.

"Edward! I know you are in there!" I raged, kicking the bottom of the heavy door with my boots, my nails digging into the decorative carvings of the frame. "Open this cursed door!"

Silence. Not a single footstep moved across the floor inside. Not a chair shifted. They just sat in the dark, breathing quietly, waiting for me to go away like a desperate, crazy servant.

When no one opened the door, I stepped back, my chest heaving up and down, tears of pure humiliation and fury streaming down my burning cheeks.

I turned on my heel, my dress whipping around my ankles as I rushed down the dark hallway, heading straight back to my own chamber.

I slammed my door shut, threw myself onto the floor beside my bed, and clutched the heavy leather journal tight against my chest. My body shook with deep, painful sobs that ripped through my throat. I had given my heart back to him. I had trusted the bond

In that pain, I swore to destroy all of them with my powers.

Not just Maria this time, but both Edward and Clara.

If Edward wanted to choose the snakes over his true mate, then he would burn in the same fire I was preparing for them. I opened the book, my tears falling onto the parchment, letting my anger seep into the ancient runes until the dark pages hummed with a cold, terrifying spiritual vibration. I would use the portrait, I would use the grave magic, and I would use the full authority of Princess Philomena to tear this entire palace down to its foundations!

In that pains, I slept off, curled up on the cold floorboards with the journal clutched against my heart.

I woke up to the knock on my room door.

Bright morning sunlight was streaming through my window, burning my sore, tear-stained eyes. The sharp, heavy knocking on my door woke me up from my deep, exhaustion-filled sleep.

"Maya? Are you in there?"

It was Edward's voice.

I scrambled up from the floor, my hands shaking as I quickly shoved the book back under my mattress. My heart was a chaotic mess of hatred and confusion. How dare he come to my door after what he did last night? How dare he act like nothing happened?

I walked over to the door, pulled the latch back, and yanked it open, ready to scream every curse my soul possessed into his face.

Alpha Edward just returned this morning.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat, my eyes widening in utter shock.

Edward was standing in the doorway, but he wasn't wearing his silk nightwear or his comfortable indoor tunic. He was wearing his heavy, steel-plated battle armor. The metal was dented, scorched black by fire magic, and covered in thick, drying mud.

There was an attack in the pack last night, and he went off to fight the traitors.

A deep, jagged cut ran down his left cheek, blood dripping down his neck onto his dark leather collar. His knuckles were bruised and raw, his hair was wild and damp with sweat, and he smelled powerfully of pine, gunpowder, and fresh blood.

Edward loves battles. Everyone in the territory knew that whenever the border patrols signaled an enemy raid, the Alpha would personally ride out at midnight to lead the vanguard himself, fighting until the last threat was crushed into the dirt.

"Maya," Edward panted, his breath coming out heavy as he leaned against the doorframe, his tired amber eyes searching my face with genuine concern. "Are you alright? I came the moment we cleared the eastern ridge. Did the raid reach the palace walls?"

When I opened my room door for him, I saw some bruises on his body. Truly, there was an attack, and truly, he was there last night.

He had been miles away at the eastern border, fighting off rogue wolves and armed traitors in the freezing rain from midnight until dawn! The cut on his face was real. The dirt on his armor was real. The exhaustion in his posture was real. He hadn't been in the palace at all last night!

My mind completely shattered into a thousand confused pieces.

If Edward was out at the eastern border fighting traitors all night...

Then who was in the Alpha's room with Clara and Maria?

And I stood there, staring at the blood on Edward's face, a cold, terrifying realization creeping down my spine that made my blood run completely ice-cold.