Chapter 2

Cedric left in high spirits with Sylvie in his arms, full of anticipation for the bond he had stolen.

My father, however, refused to let me go. He said that if the elder sister failed to appear at her younger sister’s bonding feast, the whole pack would laugh.

As if they weren’t already laughing.

The chosen mate had been switched at the last moment. Even in the Alpha Council territory, that was rare enough to become a scandal. Mockery and curiosity followed me the entire night, brushing over my face like insects I couldn’t shake off.

Only after the feast ended and my father left to see off the guests did I finally find a chance to leave.

Cedric stopped me.

“Elara. I know today was unfair to you.”

“Without you, I would never have made it this far. Once the Blackmoor Alpha heir dies, I’ll bring you back. I’ll make it up to you. Sylvie won’t object.”

For a moment, I only looked at him.

Cedric and I had once been academy sweethearts. Back then, before his own pack acknowledged him, he had been only a bastard son with no true place in the capital territory.

No one expected anything from him.

Then he turned eighteen, awakened, and his wolf came in stronger than anyone had imagined. His father finally brought him back into the pack and placed him in succession training.

That was the year everything changed.

When I met him, he still had nothing but a name, a temper, and the kind of pride that would rather bleed than beg.

We had leaned on each other. Endured together. Dreamed that even without anyone’s protection, we could survive the capital packs on our own terms.

To help him hold his footing after Blackmoor began watching him, I handled the things he refused to touch. I studied pack law, registry rules, territorial agreements, and succession politics. I sat through meetings he found unbearable, spoke to elders he despised, smoothed over insults, and cleaned up every mess that might have been used against him.

He had once held my hand and sworn he would give me a home. That he would never let anyone trample me again.

He broke every word of it.

I had no patience left for him, so I turned to leave.

And ran straight into Sylvie.

She was carrying two cups with warm spiced milk.

Her eyes were timid, her smile small and careful.

“Elara, I wanted to offer you a blessing cup. Thank you for giving Cedric to me, and for taking my place in the Blackmoor contract.”

Cedric looked at her with open tenderness, then at me.

“Elara, it’s only a cup. Sylvie means well—”

I cut him off.

“Do I need to remind you that I can’t take frostroot?”

“And do I need to say aloud what everyone can already see? You had the gown made to her measurements. You knew her body that well. You were already sharing a bed long before today.”

“I won’t take a blessing from a mistress’s daughter and a faithless man.”

I did not lower my voice.

The guests who hadn’t yet left turned to look.

Sylvie’s face went white at once. Tears filled her eyes.

“I know you’re angry. If calling me names makes you feel better, then say it. It’s my fault for forgetting my place…”

Cedric’s face changed immediately.

“Elara, enough. Take the cup and stop making this uglier than it already is.”

I looked him in the eye and said nothing.

That silence was what truly angered him.

He gave a short, cold laugh, took the blessing cup from Sylvie’s tray, and stepped closer.

“Don’t pretend in front of me. You used to walk into elder councils and hostile dens without blinking. You expect me to believe you can’t even swallow one cup now?”

“You made Sylvie lose face. If you won’t take it willingly, then kneel and apologize properly.”

A low ripple of amusement spread through the hall.

“So that’s how she helped him rise.”

“No wonder he chose the cleaner sister.”

“Really, the Blackmoor Alpha heir and this one are a better match. One is rotting, the other was never fit for decent company.”

My eyes widened.

My nails dug so deep into my palms that the skin broke.

Cedric always thought of himself as too proud to bow his head, too proud to flatter, too proud to explain himself. So I had done the quiet work instead. I had sat through negotiations, endured humiliation from pack elders, handled every ugly compromise he considered beneath him, and burned myself hollow holding his future together.

Later, after years of that life, my body began to fail me. It could no longer tolerate frostroot, though I had never told him.

I didn’t want him to worry.

He didn’t deserve the mercy.

Before I could speak, he had already lost patience.

He turned to the guards.

“You have three minutes.”

“Put her on her knees.”

“Sylvie is tired. She shouldn’t be kept waiting.”

They pinned my arms before I could fight free.

The cup was forced to my mouth.

The bitter milk slid down my throat like poison.

Within seconds, my body reacted. My skin flared hot. Rash spread fast across my neck, my arms, my face. My breath tightened until I dropped to my knees, clawing at my own throat.

Only then did Cedric’s expression change.

He shoved the guards away.

“Stop!”

“Get the healers. Now!”

By the time the emergency transport arrived, my vision was already blurring.

Cedric chased after it, trying to climb in beside me.

“Elara, I’m sorry. I thought you were exaggerating. I…”

Even with the healers trying to keep the mask over my face, I tore it away long enough to spit at him.

“Trash.”

“Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.”

He froze.

Behind him, Sylvie cried out at just the right moment.

“Cedric, my ankle. I twisted it—”

He hesitated only once.

Then he turned and ran back to her.

I was taken to the healing ward.

The next day, after treatment, I could finally breathe again. The rash faded slowly, but the humiliation stayed hot under my skin.

By evening, the whole capital pack had already seen new photos of Cedric and Sylvie.

They were in the central terrace district, fingers entwined, moving from one luxury house to another as if this had always been their life together.

No one came to see me.

No one except Warren.

Warren had once worked under my mother. He stayed behind after her death to help keep what he could from collapsing, and over the years he had quietly looked after me whenever he was able.

He stood by my bed and sighed when he saw my face.

“You’ve suffered enough, Miss Elara.”

“It’s just a pity I can’t stop what comes next. In seven days, they’ll still send you to Blackmoor.”

He thought I would flinch.

Instead I smiled.

“You’re wrong.”

“That's no pit of despair.”

I held his gaze for one beat longer.

“Warren… would you like to make a deal?”