Chapter Twenty

Poison in the Pack

The Blood Moon pack house was alive with whispers. Kimberly’s name slithered from mouth to mouth, spoken in awe, in fear, in disbelief. She was supposed to be weak, broken, forgotten. Yet now stories spread of shadows obeying her command, of warriors struck down by powers no wolf should wield.

Derrick heard every whisper. And each one drove another splinter of rage beneath his skin.

He stood at the balcony of the Alpha’s chamber, overlooking the courtyard where his warriors sparred. His amber eyes narrowed, jaw tight. No matter how loud the clash of steel and growls below, he still heard her voice echoing in his head.

I am not yours.

The words were poison.

Behind him, the door creaked open. Mona slipped inside, her golden hair perfectly arranged, her gown a vision of purity and grace. But Derrick knew better. Sweetness was her disguise; venom was her truth.

“You called for me, Alpha?” she asked, voice soft, almost submissive.

Derrick turned, studying her. His chosen Luna. His perfect match. And yet, when he looked at her, all he could see was Kimberly’s defiance, Kimberly’s shadows burning his flesh.

He growled, low and sharp. “The pack whispers her name as though she is legend. Do you know what that means?”

Mona lowered her gaze demurely. “It means they fear her.”

“It means they doubt me,” Derrick snapped, pacing across the chamber. His fists clenched, claws threatening to extend. “She humiliated me in front of my wolves. She dares to run, to resist me. And now she toys with powers that even the elders don’t understand.”

His voice dropped into a snarl. “She will not make me a fool again.”

Mona’s lips curved faintly. “Then break her, Alpha. Hunt her down yourself. Show the pack what happens when anyone defies you.”

Her words fanned the flames of his rage, but beneath her honeyed tone, she was smiling. Because if Derrick destroyed Kimberly himself, no one else could claim that glory. Kimberly’s legend would end where it began—in Derrick’s hands.

Yet Derrick hesitated. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but Lucien haunted him almost as much as Kimberly did. The stranger’s shadows had been too strong, too controlled, too ancient.

Derrick clenched his jaw. “Lucien interferes. Until he is dealt with, Kimberly will always have protection.”

Mona tilted her head, lashes lowering. “Then don’t chase her blindly. Use her instead.”

That caught his attention. “Use her?”

“Yes,” Mona said smoothly. She stepped closer, her perfume curling around him like roses edged with thorns. “Every pack within reach already whispers about the girl who survived rejection. About her shadows. They’ll come seeking her. Allies. Rogues. Even enemies. If we can’t kill her outright, let her draw them in. Then crush them all at once. Her, Lucien, and anyone foolish enough to believe she matters.”

Her words were sharp, cunning, dripping with poison. Catherine may have groomed her for beauty, but Mona had inherited her mother’s ruthless mind.

Derrick considered, his rage cooling into calculation. A public kill would silence whispers. A hunt that ended in Kimberly’s head at his feet would restore his authority. But Mona was right—too many were beginning to wonder if the rejected daughter carried something rare, something worth following.

If Kimberly became a banner for rebellion, the consequences would ripple far beyond his pack.

“She must die publicly,” Derrick murmured. “Not as prey, not as a runaway, but as a traitor.” His amber eyes gleamed with cruel certainty. “I will execute her before the pack, and the shadows themselves will kneel to me.”

Mona’s smile widened, sharp and satisfied. “Then we must lure her back.”

Derrick turned to her fully, his hand lifting to trail against her cheek. “And how would you suggest we do that, my Luna?”

Her eyes glittered with triumph she carefully disguised as devotion. “Through her heart. Kimberly still has ties here. Friends. Her father. If we bleed the things she loves, she’ll come running.”

The idea pleased Derrick. He could already see it—Kimberly returning not with strength, but with desperation, walking straight into his jaws.

“Yes,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “Yes, you may be right.”

Mona lowered her gaze, masking the satisfaction that burned behind her smile.

Because while Derrick dreamed of Kimberly crawling back in chains, Mona dreamed of something else: Kimberly returning not broken, but blazing. Strong enough to threaten Derrick. Strong enough to force the Alpha to his knees.

And when that day came, Mona would be waiting.

Because destroying Kimberly once had been 

Sweet. But destroying her twice? That would taste like immortality.