The Poisoned Call

The cold mountain breeze did nothing to cool the burning anxiety twisting in my gut as I stepped onto the private balcony adjoining my bedroom. Down below, the sprawling courtyard of the Brook packhouse was a flurry of activity, with warriors training and servants preparing for the upcoming lunar festival.

But I couldn't focus on any of it. My mind was still trapped in the dining room, haunted by the gentle, adoring tone Maximo had used when answering Agatha's phone call.

Suddenly, the sleek silver smartphone in my own pocket vibrated violently, shattering the quiet afternoon.

I pulled it out, my breath catching in my throat as the caller ID flashed across the screen. The Hayes Packhouse. It wasn’t a call from my father. It was a direct line from the snake den itself.

I swiped the screen with a trembling thumb and pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to answer,"

Agatha’s sweet, dripping-with-poison voice echoed through the speaker. I could hear the faint clinking of expensive porcelain in the background; she was likely sitting in our old garden, sipping imported tea while I sat in an icy fortress.

"How is life as a sacrificial lamb, Lucia? Has Alpha Maximo snapped your neck yet, or is he treating you like the plain, useless omega you are?"

"I am doing exactly what I agreed to do, Agatha,"

I replied, keeping my voice as flat and emotionless as possible, refusing to give her the satisfaction of hearing me crack.

"The treaty is secure. Maximo’s warriors are already patrolling our borders. Your safety is paid for."

"Oh, please. Don't act like a martyr,"

a second voice interjected, sharp and dripping with absolute venom. My stepmother, Victoria, had clearly taken the phone, her grating voice instantly making my blood run cold. "You did what was required of you to pay for your keep, Lucia. But don't get comfortable in that big mansion. We are calling to remind you of your place."

I gripped the stone railing of the balcony until my knuckles turned white.

"You have your alliance, Victoria. What more could you possibly want from me?"

A cruel, low chuckle came from the other end of the line. "We want your absolute silence, dearest stepsister,"

Agatha chimed back in, her tone shifting from mocking to completely lethal.

"Maximo called me this morning. He mentioned you had a remarkably sharp tongue at breakfast with his elders. He also mentioned a certain broken silver wolf pendant he found in your room."

My heart completely stopped, a wave of pure ice crashing through my veins. Maximo had already told her.

"Don't play dumb with us, Lucia," Victoria hissed, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"We know you still keep that wretched piece of silver. We know you still hold onto the pathetic fantasy that one day you will tell Maximo the truth about that fire five years ago. Let me make this entirely clear to you: if you breathe a single word to Alpha Maximo about what really happened on that ridge, your precious little mother pays the price."

The mention of my biological mother felt like a physical dagger driving straight into my lungs. The air left my body completely.

"Leave my mother out of this. She has nothing to do with this marriage!"

"She has everything to do with it, you foolish girl," Victoria sneered.

"Your mother is a sickly, unregistered omega, completely dependent on the expensive silver-root suppressants and medical care that my family funds. She is currently resting in our private medical wing, entirely under my care. If Maximo suspects for even a single second that Agatha is not his true savior—if he stops sending our family his luxury allowances and financial aid because you opened your mouth—I will personally cut off your mother's medicine by nightfall. Let's see how many days her fragile heart lasts without it."

Tears of hot, helpless rage blurred my vision, spilling over my eyelashes and burning my cheeks. My biological mother, Evelyn, had been frail ever since my father rejected her years ago to marry Victoria for political power. Victoria had kept her hidden away, turning her into a literal hostage to ensure my absolute obedience.

"You are monsters," I choked out, a sob catching in my throat as I squeezed my eyes shut. "I saved his life! I burned my hands to raw flesh to drag him out of that truck, and Agatha did nothing but stand there and watch!"

"And yet, he belongs to me," Agatha laughed, a sound so cold it made my skin crawl.

"He worships the ground I walk on because he thinks I am his brave little angel. He sends me diamonds, Lucia. He sends our pack millions. All because of a lie that you are going to keep alive. If you tell him the truth, he will pull his troops, our pack will fall, and your mother will die in agony without her treatments. You will play the part of the disliked, transactional wife, and you will let him hate you. Do you understand?"

I bit my lower lip so hard it bled, the metallic taste of copper anchoring me to reality. I was trapped in a flawless, inescapable web. To save my mother, I had to let the man I loved despise me. I had to let him believe I was an envious, thieving replacement.

"I understand," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

"Good girl," Victoria said smoothly. "Remember your place, Lucia. You are just a shadow. Don't try to step into the light."

The line went completely dead

I pulled the phone away from my ear, my hands shaking so violently I almost dropped the device onto the stone floor. I collapsed against the balcony wall, burying my face in my hands as the heavy, suffocating weight of my reality crushed down on me. I was completely alone in an enemy pack, wedded to a lethal Alpha who despised my existence, and blackmailed by the snakes who had stolen my entire life.

"Lucia?"

A deep, commanding voice suddenly shattered the quiet of the balcony.

I gasped, quickly wiping the tears from my face as I whirled around. Standing in the open doorway of my bedroom was Maximo. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, his piercing dark eyes locking onto my red, watery eyes and my trembling frame. His brow furrowed slightly, his gaze dropping to the phone tightly clutched in my fist.

"Who were you speaking to?"

Maximo demanded, his voice low and laced with an immediate, suspicious alpha authority as he took a slow step onto the balcony, his powerful scent of fresh snow and cedarwood enveloping me. "And why are you crying?”