what do you suggest we do ?

Lylah turned to Freya, eyes serious, her voice low. “I know this is dangerous, Freya… but this is my plan.”

Freya stared at her, her heart skipping a beat. “What is it?” she asked carefully.

Lylah pulled her aside, glanced at the door like someone might be listening, then looked Freya in the eyes. “I know it’ll be a total mess to accuse the future Alpha of rape,” she whispered, “but that’s the only way we’ll get everyone’s attention.”

Freya flinched. “What do you mean, Lylah?”

Her eyes softened, but her voice stayed steady. “Your brother… he likes me. You know that. And in our clan, even if he’s only seventeen, he can still take a wife. As long as he can produce children.”

Freya nodded slowly, her stomach twisting.

“But this time,” she continued, “I’m going to comply. I’m going to agree to what he wants.”

Freya’s eyes widened. “What? Lylah—no. That’s dangerous. You can’t play with him like that.”

Lylah gave her a small smile. “I already changed the future by saying yes. In our last life, it was my rejection that made him furious. That’s why he framed us. This time… I’ll give him what he wants. At first.”

Freya couldn’t breathe for a moment. Her hands were shaking. “But that gives him power over you. Over us.”

Lylah nodded. “I know. But hear me out.”

Freya bit her lip and listened.

“If I agree, he’ll let his guard down,” Lylah said. “He’ll think he’s winning. But once he does something wrong—once he pushes too far—I’ll accuse him.”

Freya’s heart thudded hard in her chest. “Lylah… that could get you killed.”

“Not right away,” she said, voice calm. “Your parents will try to keep it quiet. They won’t want the future Alpha’s name dragged through the mud. They’ll try to settle it indoors.”

Freya blinked. “So… then what happens?”

Lylah smiled then. A wicked, clever smile. “Then the magic happens.”

Freya frowned. “What magic?”

Lylah stepped closer. “I’ll offer them a deal. I’ll say I’ll stay silent if they let you go. I’ll trade my silence for your freedom.”

Freya gasped. “What?!”

Lylah nodded. “Yes, Freya. Because if you’re locked in this wing, we can’t change anything. We’ll be stuck like last time. But if you’re free… we can act. We can move. Plan.”

Freya backed up a little, her hands trembling. “But what if they say no? What if they hurt you?”

“I’m not afraid,” Lylah said softly. “Because this time… we’re not the same girls we were before. We remember. We know what’s coming. And I don’t care if they exile us. That’s even better. We’ll be outside, out of their control. And from there, we’ll pull the strings.”

Freya looked at her for a long time, searching her face. “Lylah… you’re serious about this.”

Lylah nodded. “One hundred percent.”

Freya swallowed hard. “I… I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” Lylah whispered. “We’ll fight smarter this time.”

“But you’ll be alone with him,” Freya said. “What if he—”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll never let him touch me. I’ll just give him the illusion of winning. That’s how you beat someone like him.”

Freya slowly sank onto the bed, everything spinning.

“One day of freedom isn’t enough, Freya,” Lylah said softly, sitting beside her again. “You need to be out of here for good. So we can do what needs to be done.”

Freya looked at her. “Are you really ready to do this?”

Lylah met her gaze without flinching. “I already have.”

Lylah looked at Freya, her eyes calm but full of fire. “Freya… tomorrow is Lupa’s Night.”

Freya blinked. “Lupa’s Night?”

Lylah nodded. “Yes. The grand festival. You know how your mom—your Luna—hosts it every year. It’s a huge celebration. Alphas and nobles from other clans all come to honor the Luna and celebrate the power of the ruling bloodline.”

Freya sat up straighter. “So… what about it?”

Lylah leaned closer, voice low. “That’s when I’ll pull the string.”

“What string?” Freya asked, feeling lost again.

Lylah gave her a half-smile. “Your brother won’t be able to escape it. He’s more lustful than the adult men here, and during the festival… he always lets his guard down. He’ll come for me. I know he will.”

A cold chill ran down Freya’s back. “Lylah… are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Lylah said without pause. “If I make my move during the festival, in front of so many guests, the elders and the visiting nobles… they won’t be able to cover it up so easily. Even if your parents try.”

Freya opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, a loud knock echoed on the door.

They both froze.

Their eyes met, and Lylah quickly wiped the look of seriousness off her face.

The door creaked open. A maid stepped in and gave a quick bow.

She glanced at Freya, then turned to Lylah. “Miss Lylah, Prince Fenrir asked me to call you. He’s waiting.”

Lylah smiled sweetly. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”

The maid nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

Freya turned to Lylah and grabbed her hand. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please, I don’t think you should do this. It’s too dangerous.”

Lylah looked into her eyes, squeezing her hand gently. “Freya, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“But—”

“Trust me, okay? Just wait for me here.”

Freya swallowed hard. Her heart was racing. Her chest felt tight.

“Okay…” she said softly, letting go of Lylah’s hand.

Lylah stood up, smoothing her dress. Before leaving, she looked at Freya one last time and smiled.

“I’ll be back soon. And when I am, everything will begin.”

Freya watched the door close behind her, her stomach twisted in knots. A part of her wanted to run after her, stop her… but another part knew there was no turning back now.

**********************************

Lylah walked slowly down the hallway, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor. The palace was quiet, but the silence felt heavy. Her heart beat faster the closer she got to Fenrir’s chambers.

Just stay calm, she told herself.

When she reached the door, she hesitated for a moment. Then she knocked.

“Come in,” his voice called from inside—smooth, calm… too calm.

Lylah opened the door and stepped in.

The smell of liquor hit her first—sharp, bitter, and thick in the air. The room was dimly lit by a few flickering candles. Prince Fenrir was sitting near a table, a bottle in one hand, his shirt loose, collar open. His eyes were half-lidded and red. He looked drunk. Very drunk.

“My lord,” Lylah said, trying to keep her voice steady.

He looked at her and smiled.

But something about that smile made her stomach turn. It wasn’t friendly. It wasn’t safe. He stood up, swaying just a little, but he kept his balance. His eyes were fixed on her—watching her like a predator watches its prey.

He walked toward her slowly.

Lylah didn’t move. She didn’t want to show fear.

But then… he reached out and touched her arm.

His fingers were warm, rough, sliding slowly along her skin. She hadn’t expected that. Her whole body tensed, and she took in a sharp breath. Her mind screamed to pull away, but she kept still.

“Why did you call for me?” she asked, her voice soft but firm.

He didn’t answer right away.

Then he gave a low chuckle and suddenly pushed her back against the door. His body was close to hers, too close. She could feel the heat of his breath on her face. His hand stayed on her arm, firm now. She was trapped between him and the door.

“Well…” he murmured, eyes dark with something she didn’t like. “I just wanted to talk.”

But she knew this wasn’t about talking.

Not at all.