Chapter 3: Two plans, One Night.

★Elara★

When I got back from the market, my hands hurt really bad and my legs felt like they were on fire.

The manor gates stood right ahead, tall and scary, iron bars forming long shadows on the stone path. Guards stood up straighter when they saw the baskets I was holding in my hands, they looked over me with practiced indifferences.

No one offered to help.

They never did.

I went inside just as the sun was about to go down. The warmth I had felt in the market, brief and fragile, faded away the moment the doors closed behind me.

“About time.”

Lyra’s voice sounded through the entry hall.

She stands near the staircase with two other noblewomen, laughter raining the moment she sees me. Her eyes roamed over the baskets, then my face, searching for fault.

“You were told to be quick,” she added coldly.

“I came as fast as I could,” I said, lowering my head down. “The stores were full.”

She scoffed. “Excuses.”

One of the women wrinkled her nose. “Is that the human?”

Lyra smiled thinly. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

Heat crawled up my neck, but I said nothing. Silence was safer.

Lyra gestured sharply. “Take the groceries to the kitchens. Then you clean the east wing.

My heart dropped.

The east wing have not been used in years.

“Okay,” I responded.

The kitchens were in chaos.

The cooks were shouting out what they needed; knives were slamming on the cutting boards all over the kitchen. The smell of raw meat and ingredients filled the air. I put the baskets down gently.And Start to take things out without anyone telling me to do it.

“Wash the herbs,” one cook ordered. “And don’t lump them.”

“Yes,” I replied.

I worked quickly, my fingers going numb as cold water flowed over my skin. The stone in my pocket, which the old woman gave me—felt warm, grounding me as the noise came in from all sides.

Tomorrow night.

Everyone were talking about it.

The Obsidian Crown Pack. Foreign Alphas. Triplets.

I kept my eyes low, pretending not to hear what they were saying.

“They say they’re ruthless.”

“They say they’ve never lost a war.”

“They say their wolves are enormous.”

Each word tightened something in my chest.

When I was done with the herbs, I was sent away again.

“East wing,” the head cook reminded me. “Every hook and corner.”

Dust filled the unused halls like a second skin.

I pushed open the doors one by one, sunlight passing through tall windows that had not been opened in years. Cobwebs stocked to the corners. The air smelled old— with memories no one wanted.

I scrubbed.

Floors first.

Then walls.

Then the heavy furniture that servants hardly touched.

My hands were trembling as I worked, muscles screaming with each movement I made. I wasn’t given gloves. I never was.

At, a point, my stomach cried loudly enough to make me stop what I was doing.

I pressed a hand to it, enduring the pain.

Later, I told myself. Maybe later.

By the time I finished the east wing, the sky had turned dark completely.

I didn’t get to rest.

“Elara!”

The call echoed down the hall.

I flinched.

“Yes?”

“Laundry,” another servant yelled. “The guests’ linens must be perfect.”

Of course they must.

The washroom was hot and damp, steam covering around my face as I soaked fabric into water again and again. My arms felt like lead. My back ached.

I wondered,if my mother was still awake right now.

If she could feel the Moon.

If she knows that something was coming.

The thought gave me just enough strength to keep going.

When I finally finished, my hands were coloured red, skin cracked from soap and cold.

I was rinsing the last sheet when Lyra came to me again.

“You missed a spot on the railing,” she said flatly.

“I’ll fix it, I replied immediately.

She looked at me for a long time, head tilted at a side. “You know,” she said quietly, “tomorrow is important. Father wants everything cleaned.”

I nodded.

“You can't bring yourself anywhere near the guests,” she continued. “That would be inappropriate.”

“I understand.”

Her lips curved in satisfaction. “Good. You’ll serve from the shadows. Like always.”

She turned and left.

I slumped against the wash basin once she was gone, breath trembling out of me.

The box under my floorboard came in my thoughts—warm, insistent.

As if it, too, was waiting.

It was well late at night that I was finally allowed to rest.

I climbed the up stairs to my room really slowly, every step was a struggle. The manor was quiet now, but not peaceful. The air felt fulled, it was tight with anticipation.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, my eyes closing shut.

Tomorrow night.

Something terrible.

Or something inevitable.

I walked across the room. Got down on my kneel, opening up the loose floorboard with practiced ease. The box was still where I’d left it, dark wood shining faintly in the moonlight.

The moment my fingers touched it, warmth flowed through My body.

Stronger than before.

My breath caught.

“I know,” I whispered, not knowing who I was speaking to. “I feel it too.”

I placed the box back into its hiding place and lay down on the bed with clothes on, exhaustion dragging me into a deep sleep.

As sleep claimed me, the Moon rose high over Nightfang Manor.

And far away, three Alphas were drawing closer.

—-----------------------------—————

★Lyra★

Morning light spilled across my chamber like a blessing.

I rose slowly from silk sheets, already smiling.

Tonight would change everything.

I stepped to the mirror, studying my reflection with a critical eye. My mother said beauty was a weapon, but only when used with intention, I have both, Long dark hair, sharp eyes, my body shaped by wolf blood and discipline.

And more importantly—status.

Human girls could dream of fate and fairy tales. Real power was claimed.

The Obsidian Crown Alphas were not ordinary wolves. They were legends. Triplets who ruled together. Warriors and strategists and shadows all bound by the Moon.

And they were coming here.

To my home.

I rang the bell, and servants hurried in.

“Bath,” I ordered. “Rose oil. And tell my mother I want the crimson gown prepared.”

“The deep crimson?” one asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” I said coolly. “The one that commands attention.”

While they worked, I planned.

I wouldn’t chase them—Alphas despised desperation. I would be visible, confident, untouchable. I would let them notice the way the room shifted when I entered. Let them feel my presence without offering myself freely.

Strength recognized strength.

And if the Moon truly intended to give them a mate, then it would be obvious.

It would choose me.

A proper wolf.

Not a silent human shadow skulking through the halls.

My thoughts drifted briefly—to Elara.

I dismissed them just as quickly.

She would be busy tonight. As she always was.

★Elara★

Morning came too fast.

The manor flowing with excitement, servants rushing past my door before I was even fully awake. Laughter echoed down the halls—light, careless, undeserved.

I sat up slowly, my body aching from the day before.

Tonight.

The word stuck in my mind like a second heartbeat.

The party will start at sunset. Music. Wine. Alphas and nobles filling the halls above.

And beneath them—

The dungeon.

I came down from the bed and knelt, lifting the loose floorboard with careful hands. The box greeted me with familiar warmth. Steady. Reassuring.

“I’ll be quick,” I whispered, not knowing why I felt the need to say it aloud. “I promise.”

I wasn’t planning to escape.

Not yet.

I was planning to see my mother.

I spent the morning working—scrubbing, carrying, obeying—while my mind mapped every step. Guards would be posted at the main halls. Most would be distracted by the guests.

The dungeon corridor would be less watched.

It always was.

No one worried about prisoners when celebration dulled their senses.

By midday, Lyra walked past me in the corridor, radiant and sharp-eyed. She didn’t look at me—not once.

Good.

I don't need her attention.

I wanted invisibility.