Chapter 8

COURTROOM PARTY

Nyx's POV

The ceremony began to drift to a close, voices overlapping into meaningless noise as applause faded into clinking glasses and forced laughter.

I spotted Bradley leaving, my pulse spiked instantly, muscles tightening as instinct took over. I excused myself, skirts brushing the polished floor as I followed him.

But before I could reach the stairs, a hand clamped around my wrist.

The grip was crushing and unyielding. Fingers dug into my skin as my arm was twisted sharply behind me, pain shooting up my shoulder.

A gasp escaped me before I could swallow it. I turned fiercely and met golden-green eyes staring back at mine.

It was Klan, the Alpha of the Shadowmoon pack. He stood a head taller than most wolves in the room, his frame lean but corded with muscle that rippled beneath his tailored jacket.

The scent of cedarwood and something darker, smoke and secrets clung to him, invading my space before he'd even spoken. His golden-green eyes gleamed with predatory intelligence, tracking my every micro expression like a hunter reading tracks.

Sharp cheekbones cut across his face, and a slow, knowing smirk curved his lips - the kind that said he knew exactly where all your bones were buried and was deciding which one to dig up first.

His thumb pressed against the pulse point in my wrist, feeling my heartbeat betray my fear. Dark hair fell just past his collar in deliberately tousled waves, as if he'd run his fingers through it moments before cornering me.

Everything about him screamed calculated charm wrapped around a manipulate core - the way he invaded personal space without apology, the slight tilt of his head that mimicked concern while his eyes cataloged every weakness, the honeyed tone that delivered threats like promises. He was the type who'd whisper poison in your ear while his fingers traced patterns on your skin, making you question whether you were being seduced or destroyed.

"Klan?" I called out.

"What are you doing here?"

His grip tightened, thumb pressing into a sensitive spot on my wrist.

"I saw you leaving. Where are you going, Nyx? The party isn't over yet," he said, eyes locked on mine.

I wrenched my arm free.

"That's none of your business."

"It's my business, Nyx. Or have you forgotten?"

I stared dead at him. He wouldn't dare say it here. Not Infront of everyone.

"What do you want from me?"

"We need to talk"

"We have nothing to talk about, Klan," I said, trying to leave.

"I can see you've got eyes on the King," he burst out. I stopped cold.

"When you have a mate"

I turned slowly, fury simmering beneath my skin.

"I rejected you."

"And I refused to accept your rejection," he said, stepping closer, invading my space. His fingers lifted, brushing the side of my face with mocking intimacy.

"Why don't you be my Luna, Nyx? You won't have to worry about anything. Or about the King."

"Don't you get it, Klan?" I shoved his hand away.

"I'll never revere the mate bond."

He chuckled, dark and amused.

"Oh? Because you want Bradley?" His eyes gleamed.

"I know you and your Father's little game."

"You have no right to prey on our affairs."

"The King won't mate you if he finds out you already have a mate," he said calmly.

"Let alone what you did to your sister, don't you think?"

My breath caught. My eyes widened before I could stop them. His lips curved into a slow, sinister smile. My knees trembled, weakness crawling through me like ice.

How does he know? Who else knows what happened that night?

"What are you talking about?" I asked, forcing my voice steady.

"Don't play dumb, Nyx. You and I both know what you did," he said, voice low, and dangerous.

"Who told you?" Fear seeped into my chest.

"Let's say your little friend did," he replied.

"But relax - your secret is safe with me."

Jacinta.

The realization hit hard, knocking the air from my lungs. My world began to fracture.

"Your father is a greedy and promiscuous man," Klan continued, circling his words like blades.

"What do you think he'll do when he finds out you robbed him of an alliance with the Lycans because of your hatred for Hazel?"

My heart dropped violently, dread settling deep in my bones. Father would never forgive me and banishment would be mercy. I looked at Klan again, he wore a sly, unreadable smile - calculating, satisfied.

"What do you want from me, Klan?"

"You know what I want," he said.

"Meet me at the borders tomorrow night."

As I stared into his eyes, my gaze drifted to my father, who stood anticipating and watching me. I returned the gaze to Klan, then strode past him toward the parking lot.

Bradley was gone.

I searched every packed car, every shadowed corner. Nothing. Klan had ruined everything, I need to get rid of him.

The ride back to pack was suffocating. Father's jaw worked silently, the muscle beneath his skin ticking like a bomb counting down. Each breath through his nose came sharp and measured, his nostrils flaring as if he were physically swallowing his rage.

The scent of his anger filled the car - acrid and metallic, making the small space feel suffocating. His eyes stared straight ahead through the window, but his pupils has dilated, rimmed with the faintest amber glow that warned his wolf was far too close to the surface.

His lips pressed into a bloodless lins, so thin they'd nearly disappeared, and the corners of his mouth twitched downward with each passing sound. Deep lines carved trenches across his forehead, and his fingers flexed against his thighs in a slow, rhythmic pattern - press, release, press, release - as if imagining crushing bone beneath them.

The leather seat creaked under the tension radiating from his body. He looked like a man choking on words too dangerous to speak, each one burning a hole through his throat on the way down.

"You should stay away from the Alpha of the Shadowmoon pack. He brings nothing but trouble." He finally said.

"Yes, Dad."

But how can I avoid Klan when he already knows what I did? I need to find a way to get rid of both him and Jacinta. Father's silence was heavy on how Alpha Hubert had humiliated him.

"We need to find another way to get him to you. We must get him to you" his voice low and dangerous.

Father didn't say anything else till we got to the pack. The quiet between us felt alive, pressing against my skin like a physical weight. Each breath he took rattles in his chest, heavy and deliberate, as if he were physically restraining his wolf from tearing free.

My own heartbeat pounded in my ears, too loud, too fast. The air grew thick and hard to breathe, charged with the kind of electricity that precedes lightning strikes. Every tiny shift of his body made my muscles tense - the rustle of his coat, the crack of his knuckles, the way his boot scraped against the car floor.

It was the silence of a predator deciding whether to strike, where every second stretched into an eternity and the not-knowing became it's own form of torture. Sweat prickled at the back of my neck despite the cool evening air seeping through the window gaps.

Mum approached us as we walked into the house, she stared at Father before drifting her gaze to me. She must have expected us go be beaming with Joy and full of excitement on our victory but it wasn't the case. She knew we'd lost she had predicted it.

Mother's hand twisted together at her waist, fingers knotting and unknotting in a nervous rhythm that made her knuckles go white. The corners of her mouth trembled, not quite a frown but something deeper - resignation mixed with bone-deep weariness.

She looked like someone standing at a grave, mourning not what was buried but what would never bloom. Her skin had gone pale, making the shadows under her eyes stand out like bruises, and when she swallowed, her throat worked visibly, as if forcing down words that would only make things worse.

"What happened, Galen?" She asked.

"Guess who decided to taunt me about my past? Alpha Hubert of all the enemies I have!" He snapped, pacing, hands slicing through the air.

"If not for that stupid Hazel-"

Anger rolled off him in violent waves. His face flushed, nostrils flaring, eyes burning with hatred so intense it bordered on madness. Hazel's name alone seemed to fuel him.

"And what does Hazel have to do with this?" Mum asked.

"He's right," I said smoothly.

"Hazel is the reason Hubert humiliated us." Dad needs to hate Hazel, he can never find out the truth.

Mum shook her head.

Father snarled, fists clenched, shoulders tense, wolf snarling just beneath the surface. His hatred for Hazel was deep, poisonous - something he nurtured and fed.

"You know, Hazel was never the cause of this, Galen," Mum said.

"Oh, it's my fault then?" Father snapped, his wolf almost at the surface.

"Damn that Hubert, he'll pay with his life," Father said, clutching his fist.

Father's entire body trembled like a fault line about to rupture. Heat radiated off him in waves, and the scent of his rage flooded the room.

Veins bulged at his temples, pulsing visibly with each furious heartbeat. His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles cracked audibly, and his nails - already elongating - dug crescents into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

His upper lip curled back into a snarl, revealing canines that had extended past human length. A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through the floorboards beneath my feet.

In his eyes, Hazel wasn't his daughter; she was the living embodiment of every failure, every wound to his pride, every obstacle between him and the power he'd kill for. The muscles in his neck corded and strained, and for a terrifying moment, I thought his wolf would tear through entirely.

I saw it in his eyes, he wants to get rid of anything or anyone that stands in his way. And so was I.

"What happened to Bradley?" Mum asked.

Just then I remembered Klan, he had threatened me he'd reveal the truth if I proceeded in mating with Bradley. I might become a rogue if that happens.

"He left." I said slowly.

"That's because you let that Klan get too close to you!" Father roared.

"Those Shadowmoons have always been a pest right from the time."

"Oh, Dad, I can handle it."

"That was what you said the last time, Nyx, and yet nothing happened. You let Bradley go again!"

"Galen, that's enough."

"You don't get it, do you, Vespera? Nyx is my only hope to defeat Hubert." His greed was naked now - power hungry eyes, restless movements, a man obsessed with dominance and legacy. He had always chased women, alliance, influence - anything that fed his ego.

"Nyx is not a tool," Mum snapped.

"I'm not complaining," I said flatly.

"I'm not your pathetic Omega."

Father paced again, running a hand through his hair, eyes wild, jaw grinding. He couldn't sit still, couldn't stand still - restless, furious, cornered.

"You already sold Hazel to Sylus," Mum said.

"Now Nyx?"

Her face hardened, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes blazing with resolve. She stood taller, unyielding - protective in a way I hadn't seen before.

"Hazel doesn't need protection," Father scoffed.

Mother stared at him, pain and determination warring in her eyes. She wasn't backing down.

"You don't have to drag our pups into this, Galen." Mother's entire demeanor shifted in a heartbeat. The soft, worried woman from moments before burned away, leaving something steel-hard beneath.

This was a mother wolf defending her den. Her eyes blazed with fierce, unshakable love, the kind that would burn down kingdoms and walk through fire without flinching.

She looked like a woman who'd drawn a line in blood and bone, and I felt the absolute certainly radiating from her: she would defy her mate, defy an Alpha, defy fate itself if it meant protecting her children. The air around her seemed to hum with quiet, terrible power.

"Today was a long day, let's not talk about this now." Father stormed out, and just as I was about to say anything, Mother followed.

I was left alone in the room, and when I turned, I saw Elena staring at me with deadly intent.

She stood in the shadowed doorway, so perfectly still she could have been carved from stone. She didn't blink. Not once. Just stood there with that terrible, empty gaze boring into me, cataloging every weakness, every vulnerability, filling them away for future use.

The scent coming off her was wrong - cold and metallic, like blood left to freeze overnight. My wolf whimpered and pressed back inside me, every instinct screaming danger. Something about her was off.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped, and walked away.