Chapter 61: Fears

Hecate POV

The castle was transforming.

Every corridor hummed with activity, servants rushing past with armloads of silk and garlands of early spring flowers. The great hall had been emptied of its usual furniture, replaced by long tables draped in white linen and laden with silver candelabras.

Banners bearing the Emberclaw sigil hung from the rafters, their crimson fabric rippling in the breeze from the open windows.

The Spring Festival was almost upon us.

Nobles had begun arriving from every corner of the Seven Packs. Carriages lined the courtyard, their horses stamping impatiently in the cold. I had glimpsed unfamiliar faces in the corridors, lords and ladies dressed in their finest, their eyes bright with anticipation.

The young ones spoke in excited whispers about the sacred night, the night when the Moon Goddess would descend and form new mate bonds, tying souls together for eternity.

I kept my head down and my hood up, avoiding the crowds, avoiding the questions. I was the queen's healer, nothing more. No one looked twice at me.

No one except Maddox.

But Maddox was occupied with his duties, greeting the arriving alphas, settling disputes, playing the role of the gracious king. I had not seen him since breakfast, when he had kissed me goodbye with a promise in his eyes that I pretended not to understand.

Today, I had work.

---

Odette's physical therapy session had been more challenging than usual.

She sat on the edge of the therapy table, her legs dangling over the side, her hands gripping the edge with white knuckled intensity. Her face was pale, her jaw tight, her eyes fixed on the floor as if she were staring down an enemy.

"Can you not use your cheap magic to make me walk by the festival?" she demanded. "I refuse to present myself to the packs in a wheelchair. I am the queen. They need to see me standing."

I knelt before her, my hands on her calves, guiding her through the exercises. "I could force your legs to move with magic. But it would be like Cinderella's dress at midnight. It would not last. And when it faded, you would be worse than before."

Odette's nostrils flared. "Then what good are you?"

"I am helping you rebuild what was lost. That takes time. And effort. And patience."

"Patience." Odette spat the word like a curse. "I have been patient for three years. I am tired of being patient."

I pressed my thumbs into the arch of her foot, feeling the muscles twitch and loosen beneath my touch. "You are making progress. More than I expected, to be honest. If you continue at this rate, you may be able to walk at the festival. With a cane."

Odette's head snapped up, her eyes sharp. "A cane?"

"It is better than a wheelchair."

She was silent for a moment, considering. Then she nodded, a small, reluctant movement. "Fine. A cane. But I want the most elegant cane in the kingdom. Something with silver. Something that makes me look like a queen, not an invalid."

"I will speak with the king's silversmith."

Odette's expression softened, just slightly. "You are not what I expected, Hecate."

"I am not sure what that means."

"I meant it as a compliment." She looked away, staring out the window at the grey sky. "I thought you would be like the others. The soothers. Desperate. Obsequious. Willing to do anything for a scrap of the king's attention."

I kept my hands moving on her legs, my expression neutral. "I am not a soother. I am a healer."

"Yes. I know." Odette's voice was quiet now, almost thoughtful. "That is what makes you dangerous."

I did not ask her what she meant. I was not sure I wanted to know.

---

When the session ended, I helped Odette into her wheelchair and watched as the maids wheeled her away. She did not look back at me. She never did.

I gathered my supplies and walked through the corridors toward my studio, my mind heavy with thoughts I did not want to examine too closely.

The Spring Festival. The mate bonds. The night when the Moon Goddess would walk among her children and bless them with love.

The bond between Maddox and me would be stronger that night, even masked by my magic. He would feel it. He would not understand it. But he would feel it.

And I would feel it too.

I pushed open the door to my studio and stopped.

A bouquet of roses sat on my worktable.

They were crimson, deep and dark, their petals velvety soft, their stems wrapped in black silk ribbon. A small card lay beside them, the handwriting bold and unmistakable.

For the most beautiful.

No name. No signature. But I knew.

I lifted the roses and breathed in their scent, sweet and heady, and felt my heart clench in my chest. Maddox had sent these. Maddox had thought of me, even in the midst of the chaos, even with the castle full of guests and the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders.

I should not have been touched. I should not have felt that flutter in my stomach, that warmth spreading through my chest. I was here to destroy him. I was here to make him suffer. I was here to avenge the woman he had betrayed, the woman I used to be.

But the roses made it hard to remember why.

I set them down and walked to the window, staring out at the courtyard below. Carriages continued to arrive, disgorging nobles and their entourages. I saw a tall man with grey hair and a stern face, flanked by guards in silver and blue. An alpha. I did not recognize him. There were so many I did not recognize.

The festival would be crowded. Chaotic. The perfect opportunity for... what?

I had been asking myself that question for weeks. What was I planning? What did I want?

Revenge, I had told myself. Justice. A reckoning for the pain Maddox had caused.

But every day I spent in his arms, every morning I woke to his kisses, every night I fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, the lines blurred. The anger faded. The revenge felt less like a mission and more like a betrayal.

Of him? Or of myself?

I pressed my palm against the cold glass and closed my eyes.

The festival night, the Moon Goddess would descend. The mate bonds would be visible, even to those who tried to hide them. My magic was strong, but was it strong enough to withstand a goddess?

If the bond between Maddox and me was revealed, everything would change. He would know who I was. He would know that Hecate and Samantha were the same woman. He would know that I had been lying to him since the moment I arrived.

Would he be angry? Would he be relieved? Would he understand why I had done it?

Or would he feel betrayed, the way I had felt betrayed three years ago, when I had overheard him speaking to Odette in the corridor?

Perhaps that was what I wanted. Perhaps the festival was the perfect moment to let the truth come out. To let the bond blaze between us, undeniable and unmistakable, and watch him grapple with the revelation that the woman he loved was the woman he had destroyed.

Would it break him?

The thought should have brought me satisfaction. Instead, it brought a dull ache, a heavy weight in my chest that I could not shake.

I turned from the window and looked at the roses again. They were beautiful. They were a lie, in a way, because he did not know who I really was. But they were also the truth, because he had chosen to send them, had chosen to reach for me, had chosen to open his heart despite his fears.

I touched one of the petals, soft as silk, and thought of the night we had spent together. The way he had held me. The way he had whispered my name. The way he had looked at me as if I were the only woman in the world.

If I destroyed him, I would be destroying that too.

I picked up the card and read the words again. For the most beautiful.

Was this the moment to strike? Was the festival the perfect opportunity to let the mask slip and watch Maddox's world crumble?

Or was I fooling myself, pretending that revenge was still what I wanted, when all I truly wanted was to stay in his arms?

I tucked the card into the pocket of my robe and left the roses on the table. There was work to do. Patients to see. A queen to heal. A secret to keep.

The festival was coming. The goddess was coming.

And I still did not know what I would do when she arrived.