Chapter 4

After what felt like an eternity, the rain stopped. The moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting a pale, ghostly light over the courtyard.

"Not dead yet?"

"You're tougher than you look."

Vanessa's voice came from behind me. I laboriously turned my head and saw her standing in the doorway, wrapped in a white robe.

"Let me see. The pathetic Silver Crest princess," she purred, slowly approaching me. "Tsk, tsk. How pitiful."

She crouched down, her hand caressing my blood-caked face.

"You know," she whispered, her voice as sweet as honey, "while Fenris was making love to me upstairs just now, you know, he was thinking of you the whole time."

My heart seized.

"He cried out your name when he came," Vanessa giggled in my ear. "Such a pity. The bond is killing him too, but he'll die before he ever acknowledges you as his mate."

She stood and rolled up her sleeve. In the moonlight, I saw a silver tattoo on her arm—the sacred sigil of our people, a mark of salvation and strength.

"See this little thing?" she purred, displaying it proudly. "This is all it took to convince Fenris I was his savior."

My eyes widened.

"He thinks I saved him," Vanessa's smile grew wider. "And he thinks your pack slaughtered his. The poor, stupid fool."

"It was you…" I managed to choke out.

"Of course it was me," Vanessa admitted without hesitation. "The Red Fang pack planned this for a decade, all for this moment. Not just to destroy Black Moon, but to wipe out Silver Crest as well, and then let the two surviving heirs torture each other to death."

She knelt again, her nail tracing a line down my cheek. "Such a perfect plan. Fenris thinks he's getting his revenge, but he's just another pawn in the game. Both of you are nothing but playthings for the Red Fang pack."

Rage gave me a sliver of strength.

"If I had known," I stared into her eyes, my voice a raw rasp, "I should have let him die in that trap."

Vanessa's smile froze. "What did you say?"

"I said," I repeated, each word deliberate, "I should have let him die."

Footsteps sounded from behind me. Steady and familiar.

I instinctively turned my head and met Fenris's icy gaze. He had been standing there, listening.

A feral rage burned in his eyes.

"Freya," he snarled, his hand clamping around my throat. His voice was a curse from the depths of hell. "So you've wanted me dead all along?"

"No, that's not…"

Fenris's grip tightened, crushing my windpipe. "You Silver Crest wolves are all worthless scum!" His eyes were bloodshot. "And I almost believed you actually loved me!"

My feet left the ground, kicking uselessly in the air. My vision blurred as Fenris's own wolf spirit began to destabilize.

"Fenris..." I used the last of my strength to open my mouth. "When I said I loved you... I meant it..."

He suddenly released me. I crashed to the ground, coughing violently.

"Never mind." He loomed over me. "Killing you now would be letting you off too easy."

He crouched, grabbing my chin. "I've changed my mind," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You want to protect that gravestone so badly?"

My eyes widened in horror.

"I can have your name carved on it, grant you the title of mother," Fenris's lips curled into a cruel smile. "But you will trade it for your absolute obedience."

"What do you mean?"

"From this moment on," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear, "you are my dog. You do what I say. You don't run, you don't fight back, and you don't die."

"Do you agree or not?"

I closed my eyes. For the sake of my child's final resting place, I would do anything.

"Fine. I agree."

"Good." Fenris stood. "Then let's start now."

He pointed to the center of the courtyard. "Kneel there until I tell you to get up."

I struggled to crawl to the center of the yard and knelt on the cold stone. The rain-slicked ground was chilling, and my knees quickly grew numb.

Fenris and Vanessa went back inside. Through the window, I could see them talking in the living room.

Time ticked by, second by second. The numbness in my knees turned into a searing pain, then to nothing at all. The Silverthorn Toxin, agitated by the night wind, raged through me. The tearing in my chest grew more intense with every wave.

After what felt like an eternity, the villa door opened again. Vanessa emerged alone. She had changed into a black dress and was holding the leashes of two enormous black dogs.

They were war hounds, unique to the Red Fang pack, bred specifically for hunting and killing their enemies. Each one stood as tall as a grown male wolf.

"Freya," Vanessa cooed. "Still here? You're so obedient. No wonder our Alpha just can't bring himself to truly hate you."

I looked up at her but said nothing. Can't hate me? He already hated me to his very core.

"These two darlings," she patted the war hounds' heads, "haven't had a fresh meal in a long time."

The hounds sniffed the air and immediately grew agitated, their bodies tense. They had caught the scent of blood. My wounds were still weeping.

"Did you know," Vanessa said as she unclipped the leashes, "that war hounds have a special fondness for injured prey?"

The two massive beasts shot toward me like shadows. They circled me, their growls low, guttural rumbles in their chests.

"Go on," Vanessa laughed softly. "Dinner's served."