Chapter 11-Clara's Game

The pack was buzzing. Every corner of Damien’s mansion, every training ground, even the forest trails carried whispers about Elara. They called her the cursed girl, the stubborn one who refused to die, the strange girl with moonfire in her blood. Some said she was blessed, others said she was dangerous. But no one stayed quiet. The entire pack was watching her with eyes full of both fear and gossip.

Clara loved it. She sat in the middle of the wolves during meal time, her long hair shining, her lips curved in that sweet smile she always used when she wanted something. She was beautiful, curvy, and she knew it. The male wolves stared at her, the females envied her, and Clara used all that attention to spread her poison.

“Elara is trouble,” she whispered, loud enough for her table to hear. “Mark my words, she will destroy our alpha if he keeps her close. She doesn’t deserve him. She doesn’t deserve us.”

The wolves leaned closer, eager for gossip. Clara lowered her voice, making her words sound like secrets, though she wanted them to spread fast. “She is not normal. You all saw the fire in her veins. That is not the power of a true Luna. That is witch blood.”

The room shifted. Murmurs rose. Some agreed, some frowned, but everyone listened. That was what Clara wanted. Attention. Doubt. Division. Every word she spoke was like smoke, spreading through the pack house.

***

Elara stayed away from the crowd. Her body was still weak after the trials. Her arms ached, her legs felt heavy, but what hurt most was not her body. It was the way the wolves looked at her. Every glance was a knife. Every whisper was louder than her heartbeat. She wrapped herself in the blanket Damien’s servants had given her and sat by the tall windows of her small room in the mansion. She wanted peace, but peace never lasted here.

Sometimes, she thought of her parents. Their faces were fading from her memory, but their voices stayed. “Stay strong, Elara,” her mother used to say. “You are more than you think.” She repeated those words to herself like a prayer. It was the only thing that kept her from breaking.

The door opened suddenly. Elara stiffened. Damien walked in. His eyes were cold, as always. His presence filled the room with weight. He didn’t ask how she was. He never asked. He just looked at her, sharp and unreadable.

“You survived again,” he said, his voice flat. “But don’t think the pack is impressed. They don’t trust you. And neither do I.”

The words cut deeper than any blade. Elara looked away, blinking back tears. She would never let him see her cry. She whispered, “I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask to be your mate.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. His fists curled, but he said nothing. After a long silence, he turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him. Elara broke down when he was gone. She buried her face in the blanket, her shoulders shaking. Why did he hate her so much? Why did fate tie her to a man who only saw her as a curse?

***

Later that night, Clara slipped into Damien’s office. She wore a red dress that clung to her curves, her perfume filling the room before she even spoke. She loved how Damien looked at her sometimes — not with love, but with annoyance. At least it was attention.

“Alpha,” she said sweetly, walking closer, her hips swaying. “The pack is worried. That girl… Elara. She is tearing us apart.”

Damien didn’t look up from his desk. His pen scratched across the paper as if Clara wasn’t there. She leaned against his table, forcing his eyes to her. “You should end this bond. Reject her. Everyone will respect you more if you do.”

Finally, Damien lifted his gaze. His eyes burned like fire. “Clara,” he said in a low, dangerous tone. “Do not speak of what you don’t understand.”

Clara’s smile faltered, but only for a second. She placed a hand on his arm, soft and tempting. “I only want what’s best for you. I’ve always wanted you, Damien. Not her. Me. I am the one who should stand by your side.”

Damien stood so suddenly the chair hit the wall. He pushed her hand away. “Enough.” His voice was ice. “If you spread more poison about Elara, I will silence you myself.”

Clara’s heart skipped. Anger boiled in her, but she forced a soft laugh. “Of course, Alpha,” she said, bowing slightly. But inside, her hatred for Elara grew tenfold. Damien might not love Elara, but he refused to let Clara win. That was worse. Much worse.

As Clara walked out of his office, her mind burned with revenge. “If he won’t throw Elara out,” she thought, “I’ll make sure the pack does.”

***

Elara couldn’t sleep. Her dreams were filled with shadows. She tossed and turned, sweat running down her skin, until finally she gave up. She walked quietly into the garden behind the mansion. The night air was cold, the moon glowing high, silver light pouring over the roses. She stood there, breathing deeply, praying the moon would give her answers.

“Why me?” she whispered. “Why tie me to someone who hates me? Why give me strength that only makes them fear me?”

The wind brushed her face, gentle, almost like a hand. For a moment, she felt less alone. But peace never lasted. From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Wolves. Pack members. They were watching her from the shadows, whispering again.

“That’s her. The cursed one.”

“She doesn’t belong.”

“What if she destroys us all?”

Elara’s chest tightened. She turned away and walked back to her room, her steps heavy, her heart breaking. She wanted to scream, but she stayed silent. That was her strength. Silent endurance. She promised herself she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her break in public.

***

The next morning, the whispers grew louder. Clara sat in the dining hall again, smiling as she fanned the flames. “Did you hear? She was talking to the moon last night. Alone. Like a witch. I saw it with my own eyes.”

The wolves gasped. They leaned closer. Clara lowered her voice to a soft hiss. “If she becomes Luna, we are finished.”

The poison spread fast. By the time Elara stepped into the hall for breakfast, silence fell. All eyes turned on her. Some with fear, some with disgust. Elara stood still, her tray shaking in her hands. She wanted to vanish. She wanted to disappear from this cruel place. But she forced herself to walk to the corner and eat alone. Her pride was the only shield she had left.

From the high table, Damien watched. His face was blank, but his eyes flickered once. He saw her pain. He saw the way she held her head high even when they tore her apart. For the first time, a small crack appeared in his heart. But he buried it deep. He told himself he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. To care was weakness.

***

That night, Elara overheard something that shattered her even more. She was walking past Damien’s study when she heard Clara’s voice. Sweet. Poisonous. 

“She is weak,” Clara said. “She will bring you down. Reject her, Damien. You don’t need her.”

And then Damien’s voice, cold as ever: “I never wanted her as my mate. She is nothing to me.”

The words pierced Elara’s soul. Her knees almost gave out. She pressed her hand against the wall, fighting the tears that threatened to drown her. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She always knew he hated her. But hearing it… hearing it in his own voice… it broke her in a way she didn’t know she could break.

She stumbled back to her room, closed the door, and collapsed on the floor. She cried until her throat burned. She cried until her eyes were swollen. But even through the tears, a fire sparked inside her. If Damien thought she was nothing, she would prove him wrong. If Clara thought she could destroy her, she would fight back. The moon didn’t put her here to be weak. She was chosen. She would rise.

***

By the end of the week, the pack was divided. Some wolves hated Elara. Some feared her. A few began to admire her strength in silence, though they never said it aloud. Clara continued to spread her poison, but Elara’s presence grew harder to deny. She was still standing. Still breathing. Still fighting. And that alone made her dangerous.

Damien watched it all. He told himself he hated her, but at night, when he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Broken but unbending. Fragile but burning with fire. She was changing everything. And deep down, he knew it. No matter how much he tried to resist, Elara was becoming impossible to ignore.

The pack didn’t know it, but a storm was coming. The fossils were already preparing the next trial. And this one would break more than just bones. It would break truths wide open.