Chapter 24 – The Poison in Her Veins

(Sasha’s POV)

Sasha leaned against the railing of the pack house balcony, her fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the polished wood. Below her, the courtyard bustled with activity, wolves carrying tools, younger pups darting in and out of training yards, the air thick with the scent of sweat and pine. But Sasha’s eyes weren’t on them, instead they were fixed on Ella.

The little human moved through the courtyard with a basket balanced on her hip. Despite the whispers circling all around her like smoke, her steps were still steady. Normally, Sasha would have smirked, she would have expected to see her flinch, shrink, or even disappear into herself the way she had always done. But this morning… something was clearly different.

Ella didn’t falter or cower.

Instead she carried herself with her head held up high, when the whispers became sharp, her gaze remained calm. She didn’t fight back, she didn’t bite back— at least not exactly—but she didn’t cower either.

Sasha grip on the railing tightened until her knuckles whitened. “So the mouse finally think herself a wolf,” Sasha muttered under her breath, venom lacing in her tone.

She hated it.

She hated the way Ella’s quiet strength is able to unsettle her, hated the way Cole’s gaze—though fleeting—lingered on the human girl when he thought no one was paying attention. He might glare, he might sneer, but Sasha knew him better than anyone. She had seen the twitch in his jaw, the restless set of his shoulders whenever Ella was near.

And Sasha would not allow it.

Cole was hers.

Long before fate has been able to twist the threads and tie him with the human girl, He had always been hers. Sasha had walked beside him in the woods, they had shared their first kiss together, she had whispered her dreams into the dark of night with him as her only witness. She had shaped herself into the Luna he truly deserved. She was sharp, clever, beautiful, even ruthless when the need arises.

And then Ella had been thrust into their world, the pack’s charity case, the unwanted child raised on scraps of Marcus’s pity.

A mere human.

And yet, fate had ended up giving her everything that she should have own.

Sasha’s nails dug into the railing until tiny crescents marked the wood. No. Fate could be manipulated. Bonds could be broken. Cole might be bound by duty, but his heart—his heart belonged to her, all she need do now, is just to remind him.

Later that evening, she found Cole in the training yard. He was stripped to his waist, sweat gleaming across his shoulders as he pounded his fists into a wooden post. Each strike landed with brutal precision, the air thick with the sound of splintering wood.

“Cole,” she called out his name softly.

He froze. Just for a moment, he didn’t turn, his broad back rising and falling with heavy breaths. Then, slowly, he turned to face her, his expression were shadowed, but his eyes were storm-dark.

“Sasha, What do you want?” His voice was sharp, but beneath it, she could hear the strain in his voice.

Sasha stepped closer, letting her hips sway just enough to draw his eyes, her smile curving slow and knowing. “What I want is something that i have always had and that’s you. I want the life we had both planned together, before your supposed mate came along and ruin it all.”

His jaw clenched. He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, gaze flicking away. “You know granting your request isn’t that simple.”

“Of course I know that,” she said smoothly, circling him like a predator, her fingers brushing lightly across his arm. His skin tensed under her touch. “But nothing of worth is simple, you have to go through hurdles to get them. You and I—we’ve built something real. Something that she could be able to understand. She’s but a human, Cole. She is Weak, Clueless. You’ll only end up wasting your time and energy trying to make her fit into our world.”

Cole’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t pull away. That flicker—hesitation, temptation—was all the opening Sasha needed.

“She doesn’t belong here,” Sasha pressed, her voice a velvet dagger. “Everyone knows this fact. Even your father’s blind faith isn’t able to change that. But if you reject her publicly, if you show the pack she’s unfit—”

Cole cut her off, his voice low, rough. “My father would never allow for that to happen.”

“Then we give him a reason.” Sasha leaned closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear. “Just imagine it, Cole. Imagine her stumbling, failing, proving to everyone what we already know. Your father would never force you to chain yourself to a weakling. Not if the pack turned against her. Not if her incompetence threatened everything we hold sacred.”

She pulled back, studying his face. His eyes were tormented, his jaw rigid, but his silence was enough victory.

“You don’t love her,” Sasha whispered, softening her tone, sliding her hand over his chest. “You never will. But me? You’ve always and will always love me.”

His eyes flickered—guilt, longing, conflict twisting through him like a storm. Sasha’s heart soared at the sight. She had finally get to him. This proves what she already know, she will always have a hold over him.

That night, Sasha sat at her vanity, brushing her pale hair until it gleamed like spun silver. In the mirror, her reflection smiled back—beautiful, cunning, unstoppable. But beneath the surface, a pulse of unease thrummed through.

Ella’s face haunted her.

That small, steady defiance. That refusal to crumble.

Sasha despised it, but she was also scared of it. Because strength, even quiet strength, had a way of catching fire. And if Ella’s fire spread…

Sasha’s hand stilled on the brush.

No. She would not allow that to happen.

She leaned forward, her reflection sharp in the mirror. “I will not let her win,” she whispered to herself. “I won’t let her.”

And with that vow, Sasha’s mind began to weave. Plans began to coil and uncoil, they were darker and sharper than before. If Ella thought she could stand in her way, then she would be the one to cut her down.