Something Doesn't Feel Right

« CLARA »

The following days drift by like a blur with it a day to the Blood Moon ceremony.

The thought sends a rush of excitement through me because this was the first ceremony I'd organized ever since I became Queen of the Dark Howl pack.

Thankfully, I carried out my task perfectly, and we could only wait for the day to arrive.

But lately, the air in the pack has changed.

Aside from the upcoming ceremony, the prophecy was all anyone talks about now. I see the unease in their eyes, feel the tension in every whispered conversation. Some people were afraid. Others were suspicious, as they believed the cursed wolf could be among them.

I refused to let such nonsense ruin my joy or deter my attention from the ceremony preparations.

Dressed in a flowing blue gown that clings to my curveous hourglass body, I stride confidently through the packhouse. My heels click softly against the polished floor. As an Alpha’s daughter, I keep my head high, knowing the respect I command. My hair is pull back elegantly, exposing the soft skin of my neck. I feel beautiful, powerful—like the Alpha’s Luna of this strong pack.

As I walk, I can feel the eyes of pack members admiring me as I pass. Their respect and admiration have always been there. Yet today, I barely noticed it.

There was only one person I wanted to see.

Adrian.

Despite the joy swelling in my heart, something feels off about him as he has been distant towards me lately.

I keep telling myself it’s the stress of being Alpha—the weight of leadership pressing down on him as King —but his coldness stings. It’s not like him. The man who once pulled me into his arms at every chance, who smiled at me with love and devotion, now barely acknowledges my presence.

I shake off the worry as I make my way to his office. Maybe seeing me will lighten his mood.

Pushing the door open slightly, I step inside. My breath catches.

Adrian sits at his desk, his dark hair slightly tousled, his sharp jaw clenched in focus. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing strong forearms as he signs a stack of documents. The sight of him sends a thrill through me. My mate is breathtaking.

I smile to myself, stepping closer. “Busy Alpha?” I tease, leaning down to kiss him.

But the instant my lips met him, he didn’t respond.

A cold pang shoots through me as he continues reading, his focus unwavering.

I pull back slightly, searching his face for an explanation. “Adrian?”

He sighs irritatedly, setting his pen down. “What is it, woman?”

His tone isn't harsh, but it lacks warmth.

I waver slightly, my heart sinking.

At first, I had convinced myself it was because of his responsibilities as king that could explain his recent coldness. But now… doubt was creeping in.

I shake the thoughts away and pull out my phone, showing him two classic red dresses. “Which one do you think is best for the ceremony?” I ask, hoping to bring back Adrian who use to care about every little detail about me.

He barely glance at the screen. “Anyone will do.”

I blink. That was it? Anyone will do?

The Adrian I know would have pulled me into his lap, scrolled through the pictures with me, and debated every detail like it mattered. But now, he barely spares me a glance.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

Determined, I step closer, trying to bring back the warmth between us. "Adrian, I—"

"Clara, stop."

The sudden sharpness in his voice makes me freeze.

I blink again, my heart pounding.

He never speaks to me like this.

For the first time, I see something different in his eyes—something distant, almost unreadable. My eyes burn, but I refuse to let the tears fall. I was an Alpha’s daughter, my pride won't let me.

For a moment, I feel foolish. Have I been imagining our love? Has something changed?

Adrian sighs heavily, standing up. His tall frame towers over me, and before I can step back, he pulls me into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. "I’m sorry," he murmurs. "I’ve been busy.”

I want to believe him.

I nod slowly. “Alright. Just… don’t shut me out.”

“I won’t,” he promises. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I smile, even though the doubt still lingers in my chest.

Just as I step out of his office, I bump into Ophelia.

My stepsister stands before me in a dress far too extravagant for a simple day. Her long, golden hair was styled to perfection, and her lips curled up into a knowing smirk.

The office door had been slightly open. She must have heard everything.

She folds her arms, tilting her head. “My, my,” she muses. “The great Alpha Adrian actually raised his voice at you? His own Luna?”

I scoff. “Mind your business, Ophelia.”

Her tone is sickly sweet, but her eyes gleam with malice, “He must be tired of you.”

I try to walk past her, but she steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“I’m not done.”

I narrow my eyes. “What do you want?”

Ophelia smirks. “I want to remind you that you don’t deserve to be the Queen of Wolves, Clara.”

My jaw tightens. “And you do?”

She chuckles darkly. “Well, seeing the Alpha no longer wants you, I wouldn’t mind replacing you as Luna. I can do a better job than you.”

My blood boils.

"He won't want you," I snap.

She laughs, a low, taunting sound. "Oh dear, let's just wait and see who wins this battle, shall we?"

I refuse to let her words get to me. Taking a deep breath, I turn on my heel, prepared to walk away—when suddenly, a loud tearing sound fills the air.

I whirl around, my eyes widening.

Ophelia is on the ground, her dress rips at the shoulder down to her waistline, exposing her lacy bra, tears streaming down her face.

She gasp dramatically, "You tore my dress!" she cries out, pointing a shaking finger at me.

Her voice was deliberately high, and it attracted much attention.

Gasps fills the hallway.

Before I can even defend myself, Tiara rushes forward, gathering Ophelia in her arms like she’s a wounded child.

"Clara!" Tiara’s voice rings with accusation. "How could you? Haven’t you taken enough? I know you're the Alpha’s Luna, but why use your power to torment the weak? What more do you want from Ophelia?!”

My jaw clenches.

Of course.

Tiara always finds a way to turn things against me.

Pack members whisper among themselves, their suspicious eyes glancing at me.

Tiara wipes Ophelia’s tears, shaking her head. “You’ve always been cruel to her. Maybe you want us gone so you can have everything to yourself.”

I wanted to scream. The way she twisted everything—turning Ophelia into the victim, making it seem like I was the one trying to take something from them. When in reality, it was them who had always tried to take from me.

A familiar voice breaks through the chaos.

“What’s going on?”

My father.

He steps forward, his eyes flickering between me and Ophelia.

Tiara clings to his arm. “Elijah, you have to talk to your daughter. This needs to stop! If she doesn’t want us here, we’ll leave.”

Lies.

I stare at my father, waiting for him to say something, anything. But I catch the conflict in his eyes. He didn’t know who to believe.

Then, another voice spoke.

A deep, commanding voice.

Adrian.

His presence silences the room instantly.

Tall, powerful, and radiating authority, he scans the scene with piercing amber eyes.

Ophelia shifts slightly, her tears still flowing, like a pitiful wounded dove, but I catch the way her gaze flickers his powerful form—hungry, lust-filled.

She’s playing a game.

"Explain," Adrian commands, his voice deep and firm.

Tiara opens her mouth to speak, but he sharply cuts her off.

"I didn’t ask you."

Some omegas stifle their laughter.

Tiara’s face darken with embarrassment.

Adrian turn his gaze to me. I take it as my cue to speak. “I didn’t do anything,” I said firmly. “Ophelia tore her own dress to frame me.”

The room becomes silent, waiting for Adrian’s verdict.

The tension was palpable in the air.

After a long suffocating silence, Adrian says, "Let no one attempt to mess with my Luna again ever again. Messing with her is messing with me."

The weight of his words settles over the pack.

The crowd bow.

I should feel relieved. He defended me.

But I don’t.

Because I know Adrian doesn’t just believe me, he knows the truth. He saw through Ophelia’s act.

Yet, he didn’t punish her.

Why?

Ophelia smirks tauntingly at me from behind her fake tears, and my hands curl into fists.

My blood boils over.

Something doesn't feel right.

But just as I start to ponder, my anger staggers when two broad arms pull into a warm chest and I melt, “Don't think too much about what happened,” Adrian murmurs.

I force a smile, momentarily pushing away every crumb of my suspicions. Adrian only has his love for me, and that's what matters.

But never did I know that my whole perfect life was about to change forever…