35. SEEDS OF DISCORD

RAVEN

I paced the length of the corridor, heart pounding against my chest, fingers twitching by my sides as my mind raced with what had happened earlier. Kieran's stare. The way his eyes lingered a second too long. The question he hadn’t asked out loud but one I could feel brewing in his silence. He knew something—maybe not everything, but enough to make me sweat. I’d seen that kind of gaze before. Calculating. Dangerous. And I’d be a fool not to take it seriously.

I was still trying to collect myself when one of the maids came scurrying up to me, her expression taut with the kind of nervousness people wore when delivering messages from those who mattered.

“Vee,” she said quickly, eyes flickering toward the east wing, “Selene’s asking for you. She said she wants her snacks. The usual.”

I blinked once. Twice. Then gave a tight smile.

“Of course. I’ll bring them myself.”

The girl nodded and scampered off, probably relieved I didn’t bite her head off. As soon as she turned the corner, I pivoted and made my way to the pantry, shutting the door behind me. I pulled out the dainty little ceramic plate, already half arranged with dried fruit, candied ginger, and those awful little honey cakes Selene adored. As I unwrapped the vial of wolfsbane from my sleeve, I muttered under my breath.

“If only you knew how poetic this is, Selene. Sweet death for a sour witch.”

A few drops. That was all it took. Carefully, I tilted the vial, watching the liquid vanish into the sponge of the honey cakes. Enough to make her weak, slow. Eventually dead. Not instantly. That would be too merciful. And too obvious.

I walked through the halls with the tray in hand, the weight of the plan tightening around my spine like a corset. Kieran couldn’t know. Not now. Not when we were so close—Lucian was already stoking the fires from his end, Rowena had planted the seeds of discord. All that was left was time and a little more poison.

As I entered Selene’s chambers, the scent of perfume and privilege hit me like a slap. And speaking of slaps—

“Ugh. Look who finally decided to show her face,” one of Selene’s little friends sneered from the settee, legs draped lazily over the edge like she owned the world.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even blink. “Careful, darling. If you keep talking like that, I might start thinking you actually matter.”

The other girl snorted. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself. We all know you’re only here because Selene hasn’t figured out what kind of snake you really are.”

I smiled sweetly, setting the tray down on the mirrored table with a gentle clink. “And yet here I am. Still standing. Still trusted.” I leaned in slightly, letting my voice drop into a hush.

“And still serving.”

Their laughter grated, but I let it wash over me like cold water. Let them laugh. Let them mock. I didn’t need to raise a hand to strike them down. The poison would do that just fine.

Selene’s voice rang out from the bed. “Took you long enough, Vee.”

I turned toward her, keeping my tone breezy. “I had to make sure everything was perfect. You know how particular you can be.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Just bring them here.”

As I carried the tray over, I caught the eye of one of her rude little minions again. She rolled her eyes at me, and I smiled. A tight, smug little smile. The kind that knew something she didn’t.

Revenge didn’t always have to be loud. Sometimes, it came in the form of honey cakes and poisoned silence.

“I swear, if I ever get a chance to talk to Lucian alone, I’ll faint,” one of Selene’s friends said with a full mouth, crumbs of crackers falling onto her lap as she reached for more.

“He was just… ugh, that tux, those eyes, that jawline—”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered under my breath with a smirk as I leaned against the doorway, arms folded. Selene hadn’t noticed me yet, but her voice rang clear above the chatter.

“He looked bored out of his mind though,” she said as she tossed her hair back, eyeing her reflection in a compact mirror. “I mean, what’s the point of being that good-looking if all he’s going to do is act like everyone’s beneath him?”

“Maybe because everyone is beneath him,” the girl with the crackers chirped, giggling. “God, I’d still risk it.”

I snorted quietly and stepped in. “Risk what, exactly? Your life?”

They all turned suddenly, startled, and Selene’s eyes narrowed immediately. “What do you want, Vee? No one’s talking to you.”

I ignored her, gaze lingering on the table cluttered with half-eaten pastries and empty cups. “You were all so confident last night at the ball. Especially when Lucian walked in. The way you stared at him like he was some gift-wrapped dream. Now you’re here, fawning like you actually have a chance.”

“Please,” another girl sneered, pushing her chair back. “Don’t be bitter just because he didn’t look your way.”

“I’m not bitter,” I said, tone calm, measured, a dangerous glint in my eye. “I just think it’s funny. Hilarious, even. All this swooning over a man who’s probably planning how to slit your throats in the prettiest way possible.”

They stared. One girl dropped her fork.

“What did you just say?” Selene asked, rising slowly.

“You heard me,” I replied, stepping closer, my eyes never leaving hers. “Lucian’s not interested in your dresses, your fake laughs, or your pathetic attempts to seduce him. He’s here for blood. He’s here for vengeance. And none of you… not even you, Selene, will be spared when he finally decides it’s time.”

“You’re sick,” one of them whispered, scooting away. “You’re just trying to scare us.”

“No,” I said with a soft chuckle, shaking my head. “You should be scared. But not because of me. Because you already danced with your killer. You toasted him. You smiled in his face. And now? Now, it’s only a matter of time.”

Selene stepped forward, fury burning in her voice. “Get out, Vee. You don’t get to come here and—”

“You’re already dead, Selene,” I cut her off coldly. “You just don’t know it yet.”

And with that, I turned and walked out, leaving the taste of silence and fear thick in the air behind me.