Chapter 5: The Deceptive Claim

The double doors of the grand throne room burst open, the heavy mahogany booming against the stone arches.

High Council members, elite pack beta warriors, and terrified servants instantly went silent. I stood at the top of the marble dais, my bare chest rising and falling heavily, my bare hands gripping the cold armrests of the Alpha throne. My silver eyes, now burning with razor-sharp clarity, scanned the doorway like a hawk hunting prey.

Every female brought before me for the past three hours had been a failure. None of them carried the divine, soul-stirring blend of heavy rain and night-blooming jasmine. None of them held the power of Sun-Wolf blood in their veins. My inner beast was pacing back and forth behind my ribs, a dark, bloodthirsty monster growing more unhinged with every passing second.

Then, Celeste walked in.

She glided across the polished marble floor, her expensive silk dress fanning out around her as she threw herself dramatically onto her knees at the foot of the dais. Her head was bowed in a show of total submission, but her shoulders were squared with sickening confidence.

"Alpha Killian," Celeste gasped out, her voice dripping with calculated reverence and theatrical emotion. "I heard the guards searching the estate... I came as fast as I could. I believe you are looking for this."

With a trembling, delicate motion, she raised her right hand toward the ceiling, tilting her palm so the morning light struck her index finger.

My heart hammered violently against my ribs.

Sitting on her finger was an ancient, perfectly detailed silver crescent ring—an exact, undeniable match to the token I had found crushed in my hand on the velvet sofa. The intricate royal engravings gleamed under the chandeliers, shimmering with the same ethereal aura I had memorized down to the smallest detail.

In a blur of supernatural speed, I vanished from the top of the dais.

The air cracked as I materialized right in front of her, my massive, imposing frame towering over her kneeling body. The High Council murmurs swelled behind me, but I ignored them. My glowing silver eyes locked onto the ring, staring at it in total disbelief.

"Where did you get this?" I growled, my voice dropping an octave into a low, terrifying vibration that shook the marble floor beneath her knees.

Celeste lifted her head, looking up at me through dark, thick eyelashes. "It has been in my family for generations, my Lord. Last night... during the gala, I heard your roars from the VIP wing. I knew you were suffering through the heat cycle. I couldn't leave you in the dark."

I leaned down, my large, calloused hand reaching out to grab her wrist, pulling her closer to my face. "You came into my room?"

"Yes, Alpha," Celeste lied smoothly, her eyes glittering with fake devotion. "You locked me against the door... you tore my silk dress... you took me on the sofa. I stayed with you until the fever broke, but I was terrified of being executed for entering the VIP corridor without permission, so I fled before dawn."

It was the exact sequence of events. She knew about the sofa. She knew about the torn dress. She held the exact ring.

I pulled her closer, lowering my face to the curve of her neck to inhale her scent—to smell the intoxicating jasmine that had driven my mind insane all night long.

The moment my nose brushed her skin, a thick, suffocating cloud of heavy lavender perfume violently hit my senses. It was so thick, so artificially sweet, that it burned the back of my throat. I recoiled instantly, my jaw clenching as my eyebrows slammed together in disgust.

Where is the rain? Where is the jasmine?

My inner wolf snapped its jaws inside my mind, letting out a low, dangerous snarl that vibrated straight through my skull.

Not her, the beast roared inside me, clawing at my chest in absolute rejection. *Fake! Smells wrong! Not our mate!*

"You reek of artificial flowers," I growled, my grip on her wrist tightening until the bone creaked beneath her skin. "Why can I not smell your true essence?"

Celeste didn't flinch, though a flash of subtle panic flickered in her eyes before she masked it with a soft, pitiful pucker of her lips. "I... I was so embarrassed by the wild, feral scent left on my body from our night together, Alpha. The maids in the upper wing saw me looking disheveled, so I bathed in heavy floral oils to hide the mark of your heat from the other pack females until I knew if you would claim me."

Behind me, the Chairman of the High Council stepped forward, his heavy golden robes dragging on the marble steps.

"Alpha Killian," the old wolf spoke up, his voice authoritative and pressing. "The female holds the royal crescent token. She knows the intimate details of your chamber. Her scent is merely masked by perfume, which is customary for noble ladies after a night of passion. Your sight is restored, your curse is broken, and she stands before you with the proof."

"She saved your life, Alpha!" another councillor added, stepping down the stairs. "The pack needs stability. The rival territories are watching us closely after the news of your cured blindness broke this morning. You must secure a Luna immediately to solidify your throne!"

The pressure from the council heavy on my shoulders was a suffocating weight, but it was nothing compared to the violent war waging inside my own chest.

Everything added up. The duplicate ring sat on her finger. She had described the VIP room, the torn dress, the fire escape flight, the raw, brutal passion on the velvet sofa. It was a complete match. Yet, my instincts—my ancient, bloodthirsty wolf—refused to accept her. The beast within me wanted to tear her throat out for standing so close to me with that sickening lavender smell.

Is the perfume masking her true Sun-Wolf scent? I asked myself, my jaw grinding. Could a noble lady really carry dormant royal blood beneath such a shallow exterior?

"Alpha... please," Celeste whimpered softly, reaching up with her free hand to gently lay her palm over my bare, heavily scarred chest—right over my pounding heart. "I gave you my purity on that sofa to break your curse. Will you cast me aside now that you can see?"

I stared down at her face. It was pretty, polished, and noble, but looking at her gave me no spark. It ignited none of the fierce, soul-shattering possessiveness that had consumed me in the dark when I held that fragile, trembling female in my arms.

"Alpha, you must declare the betrothal!" the council chairman urged loudly, raising his wooden staff. "The laws of the Silverclaw Pack state that whoever cures the Alpha's bloodline is granted the supreme right to the throne!"

The entire throne room fell into a heavy, expectant silence. Dozens of eyes burned into my back, waiting for my decision.

I sucked in a deep breath, forcing the roaring rage of my inner beast back into its dark cage. I had a pack to lead. I had enemies at the border who would attack the moment they sensed weakness. If she held the ring, if she had cured my magic-induced blindness, I had no legal choice under pack law.

"Very well," I rasped, my voice cold, detached, and devoid of any warmth.

I reached down with my right hand, taking her delicate index finger into my broad, calloused grasp. Celeste’s eyes lit up with pure, ruthless triumph, a dark, victorious smirk tugging at the corners of her painted lips as she prepared for the announcement that would make her the most powerful female in the territory.

I took the ancestral silver crescent ring I had kept in my pocket—the one left behind on the sofa—and aligned it with her finger, slowly sliding the cool metal down to meet her skin.

The moment the ring touched her knuckle, a sharp, violent shiver ran down my arm—not of pleasure, but of pure, visceral revulsion.

Deep within the darkest depths of my mind, my inner wolf slammed its massive paws against my ribs, baring its giant, blood-dripping fangs, and let out a terrifying, deafening roar that echoed in my soul:

NOT HER!