Chapter six.

Celine’s POV

I slam the bedroom door so hard the paintings rattle on the wall.

The scent of rose from my perfume-drenched pillows suffocates me as I pace the room.

Furious, I yank at the curtains like they're the ones to blame. The thick velvet tears from the rod and drops to the floor, but I don’t stop there. I grab my pillow like a child throwing tantrums and hurl it across the room, watching it smack into the wall with a soft thud.

I feel like I am suffocating from anger. My fists clench and unclench, nails digging into my palms until they sting. I can still hear the gasps, the stunned silence when that bastard bursts into the council room. Who the hell is he? That man who looked like death itself walking in, eyes glowing like emerald fire? No one dared move when he growled.

The guards. Those cowards. They couldn't even stop him.

“Useless! All of them.”

I sit by my dressing table trying to calm the rage inside me but, my hands clench the edge of the dresser instead. I stare into the mirror before me, but I don’t see the flawless girl the pack worships. No. I see a fool. A loser.

“I had it all planned,” I hiss, teeth grinding. “She was supposed to be finished. Shamed. Banished. Totally destroyed.”

I spin around, grab the edge of my satin bedcover, twisting it in my hands like it’s Flynn’s throat until I rip it off.

“Flynn! Why don't you just die! Disappear!” I scream at my mirror pointing my reflection like I was talking to Flynn.

“You were supposed to crumble. You were supposed to beg, break—be banished.” I continue to rant, my hair scattered from its previously styled bun due to my tantrums. “But no. No, you get rescued. You get saved like some damn fairy tale.”

I gnash my teeth.

That bastard ruined everything. That terrifying man—those emerald eyes, that voice like thunder. Who the hell is he even?

“He came out of nowhere,” I seethe, pacing back and forth across the plush rug like a caged animal. “Who does he think he is? Barging in like some dark knight to save the pathetic little damsel?”

I yank open a drawer, knocking over bottles of perfume and silk gloves. Lipsticks roll to the ground. My vision burns red.

The door creaks open behind me.

“Celine,” Mother’s voice hisses, “keep your voice down.”

I whirl around to see her step in, dressed in an emerald gown that flows like smoke behind her. Her blonde hair, curled into its usual perfect waves, and calm makeup that did good in hiding the fury pinched in her brow.

“I swear,” I growl, “I will kill her myself if I have to.”

Roselyn crosses the room in swift strides, slamming the door shut behind her. “You will do no such thing. Have you lost your mind?” “Also, lower your voice!” she snaps. “ Do you want the entire Crescent household hearing what you did?”

“She’s still standing, Mother!” I snap. “After all the poison, after all the planning—she still walked out of there with that man holding her like some goddess!”

“She’s nothing,” Roselyn spits, her voice ice-cold. “She has nothing. That boy, man—whoever he is—is not going to save her forever.”

I breathe hard, trembling with rage. “We were so close. Ranon rejected her, the council was ready to tear her apart. And then—he came.”

My mother's eyes burn. “That man — that thing — he’s dangerous.”

I nod.

I've to find out who he is. His pack, his family. I’ll reach out to the Council. Someone has to know him. Power like that doesn’t go unnoticed.”

“No shit,” I hiss, pacing again, kicking a velvet stool out of my way. “I can't believe he dropped three guards like feathers… And the way he looked at Flynn — like she was his. I’ve never seen eyes like that, not even from Ranon.”

My mother moves to the bed and sits, smoothing the crumpled sheets with a trembling hand. “We underestimated the whatever luck that seem to be guarding her. That was our mistake.”

“No, our mistake,” I sneer, “was not making sure she stayed dead when I drowned her.”

Roselyn’s eyes narrow.

“You said the poison would kill her wolf completely.” I ask, trying to get reassured that I still had the upper hand. That I was still winning somehow.

“Not yet, It was slow,” she mutters. “Measured, we couldn’t risk suspicion. It should’ve been enough to cripple her.”

“Well it didn’t! And now she has some powerful stranger on her side, and everyone in that damn room saw how he tore through our guards like paper.”

The room goes silent except for our breathing.

Then, a soft knock. The door creaks open.

“My Lady?” A maid enters, head bowed. “The Elders request your presence, Beta Roselyn. They—”

I pounce.

Before the girl can finish, I’m across the room and in her face, my fingers curling like claws. “What did I say about knocking once and waiting?! Are you stupid?!”

She flinches, dropping to her knees in fear. “I-I’m sorry, my Lady, I didn’t mean—”

“Celine!” Roselyn’s voice cuts through my rage. I freeze.

Her eyes flash golden for a moment—her wolf surging beneath the surface. She stands, gliding toward me with the elegance of a queen and the fury of a storm.

“Do not lose control. Not here. Not now.” Her voice is low and sharp.

I back away from the maid, breathing hard, fuming all over. The girl scurries out, nearly tripping over her own shoes. The door slams shut again.

“I’m sick of being quiet,” I hiss. “I’m sick of pretending to be the pack’s good and sweet little princess. I don't need just that. I need power, I need to win.

Roselyn, my mother steps close to me, her perfume sweet but choking. “Then you’ll stop throwing tantrums like a child,” she whispers. “And you’ll listen.”

I meet her eyes. They’re like mine. Cold. Hungry.

“This isn’t over,” she says. “We will destroy her. But next time… it won’t be public. It won’t be messy. It’ll be silent, invisible… permanent.”

I stand, the anger like electricity still sparking through. The plan is forming already — a web stronger than before, darker. “What about Father?”

Roselyn snorts. “Your father? He is no threat. He listens to me. He is not a problem, I can make him stay silent, and he will if he knows what’s good for him.”

A shiver runs through me. The anger simmers into something sharper. Clearer.

“Tell me what to do.”

Roselyn leans in. Her eyes glinting with mischief, and her smile is thin and wicked, as she begins to speak.