Chapter 35 Hunter and Tara

The Fury of the Spurned

Celeste pov

Five hundred miles north of Silverstone territory, in the pristine wilderness that bordered the Northern Territories Pack lands, I stood before a massive mirror in my private chambers, my perfect features twisted with a rage that would have shocked anyone who knew my public persona.

The scrying bowl on my dressing table still shimmered with residual magic, the enchanted water having just shown me exactly what I hadn't wanted to see—Hunter Blackwood making love to Tara McKenzie with a passion and devotion that left no doubt about where his loyalties lay.

"How dare she," I whispered, my voice carrying the kind of venom that made the very air around me seem to darken. "How dare that insignificant little nobody claim what should be mine." I wanted his big cock bringing me orgasms and pleasure. I wanted his mouth on my nippers and pussy making me so wet I couldn't stand it, but instead, I got a front row seat to him fucking that cunt. I hated Tara.

I picked up the silver hand mirror from my vanity and hurled it across the room, watching with savage satisfaction as it shattered against the stone wall. The breaking glass reflected my fury in a thousand sharp fragments, each one catching the light from the fireplace like tiny blades.

For three years—three entire years—I had been cultivating my image as the perfect Alpha's mate. I had studied Hunter Blackwood's history, his preferences, his leadership style, his family connections. I had shaped myself into exactly what he should want in a partner: beautiful, intelligent, well-bred, politically advantageous, and utterly devoted to the traditional values that should matter to a man of his station.

And for what? So he could throw it all away for a nobody who had been publicly rejected and had run away like a coward instead of fighting for her place.

"Miss Celeste?" The voice belonged to my personal maid, Elena, who stood in the doorway with the carefully neutral expression that staff learned to wear around volatile supernatural nobles. "Your father wishes to see you in his study."

"Tell him I'm indisposed," I snapped, not turning from my position at the window where I stared out at the dark forest beyond my territory.

"He said it was urgent, miss. Something about the surveillance reports from Silverstone."

That got my attention. I turned, my ice-blue eyes sharp with interest. "What kind of surveillance reports?"

"I wouldn't know, miss. But he seemed... pleased about something."

I smoothed my expression back into its usual mask of serene composure, though my hands trembled slightly with suppressed rage. I had worked too hard building my reputation as the epitome of refined womanhood to let my true feelings show to the servants.

"Tell him I'll be down momentarily," I said, my voice returning to its usual cultured tones.

After Elena departed, I moved to my private safe and withdrew a small crystal vial filled with shimmering silver liquid. The potion was my own creation, a complex weaving of desire magic and compulsion spells that should have been more than enough to override whatever misguided loyalty Hunter felt toward his precious Tara.

But the scrying bowl had shown me the truth—the moonstone necklace I had sent had been examined and neutralized by Silverstone's magical specialists before Hunter had even touched it. My carefully crafted gift had been reduced to nothing more than expensive jewelry, its enchantments stripped away by protective wards.

"Clever little bitch," I muttered, thinking of Tara McKenzie's quick identification of the magical threat. "But cleverness won't save you from what's coming."

I made my way down to my father's study, my silk dress rustling against the marble floors of the family mansion. Alpha Edmund Ravencroft looked up from behind his massive desk as I entered, his weathered face wearing the satisfied expression of a predator who had just cornered his prey.

"Ah, Celeste. Good. We need to discuss the acceleration of our timeline."

"What acceleration?" I settled into the chair across from my father's desk, my posture perfect despite the fury still burning in my chest.

"Our European allies have moved up their schedule. They want the Blackwood heir eliminated before his wedding can take place." Edmund leaned back in his chair, studying his daughter's face. "Which means your romantic approach has failed to produce results."

"It would have worked if that McKenzie girl hadn't interfered," I said through gritted teeth. "She somehow detected the enchantments on the necklace—"

"Because she's fully bonded to him," dad interrupted. "Our intelligence was incomplete. We assumed the original mate bond had been permanently severed by his rejection, but recent surveillance suggests they've formed something even stronger."

I felt ice settle in my stomach. "What do you mean, something stronger?"

"A chosen bond. Rarer than natural mate connections, more powerful than arranged political unions. They've literally rewoven their souls together through conscious choice and shared sacrifice." Father's expression grew grim. "Such bonds are nearly impossible to break through external interference."

"Nearly impossible isn't impossible," I said quickly. "There have to be ways—"

"There are ways," my father agreed. "But they require the death of one partner to sever the connection. Which brings us back to our European allies' preferred solution."

I stared at my father, processing the implications of his words. "You're talking about assassination."

"I'm talking about removing obstacles to the natural order," father corrected. "Hunter Blackwood has become a symbol of dangerous ideology. His marriage to that girl will inspire other young Alphas to reject advantageous political unions in favor of romantic nonsense."

"And if he's eliminated?"

"Then you console his grieving pack, help them through the transition of leadership, and eventually accept the position of Luna that should have been yours from the beginning." Father's smile was cold and calculating. "The McKenzie girl will be eliminated as well, of course. Can't have any loose ends or martyrs to inspire future rebellion."

I felt a surge of dark satisfaction at the thought of Tara McKenzie's death, but something else nagged at me—a recognition that my father's plan went beyond simple romantic rivalry.

"This isn't really about me wanting Hunter, is it?" I said slowly. "This is about the European alliance and their desire to control supernatural politics across North America."

"Your feelings for the Blackwood heir serve our larger purposes," Father acknowledged. "But you're correct that the scope extends beyond personal desires. If the ideology of chosen love is allowed to spread, it threatens the entire foundation of pack hierarchy and political stability."

"And I'm just a convenient tool in that larger campaign."

"You're my daughter, and you'll benefit greatly from the success of our alliance. Once Hunter Blackwood is eliminated and his dangerous ideas die with him, you'll be positioned as the widow who helped Silverstone recover from tragedy. Marriage to the next Alpha heir will be a mere formality."

I was quiet for a moment, considering the ruthless efficiency of my father's plan. Part of me admired the elegance of it—eliminate the obstacles, position myself as the solution, and emerge as Luna of one of the most powerful packs in North America.

But another part of me, the part that had genuinely fallen for Hunter's reputation and image, rebelled against the idea of winning through his death rather than his choice.

"What if there was another way?" I asked carefully. "What if we could break the bond without killing him?"

"Such as?"

"Corruption magic. Dark enough enchantments can twist chosen bonds into their opposite—love becomes hate, devotion becomes revulsion. If we could turn Hunter against Tara, make him genuinely despise her..."

Father considered this, his expression thoughtful. "It would require significant magical resources. And the risk of detection would be high."

"But it would serve the same purpose without creating a martyr," I pointed out. "A public rejection, a broken engagement, Hunter choosing a more appropriate mate—it sends the message that romantic love is unreliable while preserving his life for... other purposes."

The smile that spread across Father's face was predatory and pleased. "Spoken like a true strategist. Very well, daughter. You have one week to acquire the necessary magical components and plan your corruption spell."

"And if it fails?"

"Then we proceed with the European plan and eliminate both of them on their wedding day." Father's expression hardened. "But one way or another, this dangerous ideology ends with Hunter Blackwood and Tara McKenzie. The natural order will be preserved."

As I left my father's study to begin planning my magical assault on Hunter and Tara's bond, I felt a dark anticipation building in my chest. One way or another, I would have what I wanted. Either Hunter would turn against his precious Tara and choose me instead, or both of them would die and I would build my future on their graves.

The only question was which outcome would bring me more satisfaction.

But as I began gathering the dark magical components necessary for my spell, I failed to consider one crucial factor—that bonds built through choice and tested by adversity might be stronger than any magic I could bring to bear against them.

I was about to discover that some connections couldn't be corrupted, twisted, or broken by outside force.

And the woman I was planning to destroy had already proven she would fight wars for the man she loved.