Melissa’s pov
“Melissa,” Clara murmured, adjusting the blankets around me, “I will fetch food from the kitchens. You need real nourishment, not just broth. I will be back in half an hour or less.”
I wanted to beg her not to leave, but the words stuck in my throat. My body was too weak, my pride too battered. I only managed a nod, my eyes were half open, and I listened to the soft pad of her retreating steps.
I tried to close my eyes, but the emptiness inside me made sleep a cruel joke. Without the bond, my soul felt flayed open, as if someone had torn a vital organ from me and left only a cavity. My wolf whimpered faintly, curled tight in some hidden corner of my mind.
That was when the door creaked open.
I jolted upright, or tried to. My body managed only a feeble twitch, my arms trembling as though lifting them weighed more than stone.
It wasn’t Clara.
Beta Leon stepped into the room, the firelight catching in his dark eyes. He shut the door behind him with deliberate slowness, the sound echoing far too loud in the stillness.
My uncle. My father’s brother. The man who had always wanted the Alpha’s throne and who had nearly gotten it, if not for my father’s dying choice to crown Marcel.
I gritted my teeth, fighting to push myself upright. “What do you want?” My voice was thin, hoarse, but laced with as much venom as I could muster.
His lips curved, not into a smile but into something hungrier, crueler. “You’re weaker than I imagined. I half expected to find you dead after what you pulled with that bond stunt. Brave little niece, ripping your soul apart with your bare hands.”
He stepped closer, boots thudding softly against the wooden floor. I shrank back against the pillows but kept my chin high.
“I survived,” I said, though my breath hitched, betraying me. “That’s more than you wanted, isn’t it?”
Leon chuckled low, shaking his head as though humoring a child. “Survival is a generous word for… this.” His hand gestured toward me, sprawled, pale, trembling. “You’re clinging to life like a spider to a broken web. Do you honestly think you’ll rise from this bed, let alone take back a throne?”
Rage flared, hot and sharp, cutting through the weakness for one glorious instant. “I don’t think, Leon. I know. This pack is mine, by birthright and by blood. You’ll never have it.”
His eyes gleamed at that, a dangerous light flickering in their depths. He leaned closer, lowering his voice until it was almost a hiss. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, little wolf. You’ve already lost it. The moment Marcel chose Linda, the moment she carried a child, your claim shriveled and died. A Luna with an heir, a Beta standing behind her, an Alpha bound in her bed… You are nothing more than a shadow of the past.”
The words carved through me, sharper than claws. I swallowed against the bile rising in my throat. “You sound awfully invested in her victory, Leon. Tell me, whose child is she carrying? Marcel’s… or yours?”
His face flickered, just for a heartbeat, a crack in the mask. Then he barked a laugh. “Sharp tongue, even when your body’s broken. Careful, Melissa. If you spit venom at the wrong snake, you’ll end up bitten.”
I forced a smirk, though my lips trembled. “That sounded an awful lot like an admission.”
He leaned down until his breath brushed my ear. “Think what you like. Let the thought torment you. In the end, the truth won’t matter, because you won’t have the strength to fight it.”
His voice dropped lower, colder. “I’ve played the long game, niece. Longer than you realize. Your father thought crowning Marcel kept the pack from me. Fool. Marcel is a puppet, and Linda… well, Linda knows where her power lies. Between us, she’ll stay right where I want her. And you? You’ll fade. Wither. A tragic little ghost locked in this room while the world forgets your name.”
I felt my wolf stir faintly inside me, a flicker of fury against the suffocating weight of his words. My fingernails dug into the sheets, knuckles white. “You underestimate me, Leon. That’s your first mistake. The second is assuming I’m alone. I still have loyal hearts in this pack. And I swear, when I rise again, you’ll choke on your own schemes.”
Leon studied me in silence, his gaze dragging over me like claws. Then, softly, almost tenderly, he said, “I look forward to seeing you try.”
The menace in his calmness sent a shiver down my spine.
He straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves, and strode toward the door. But before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder.
“One more thing,” he said, his tone almost casual. “Clara… loyal little Clara. She reminds me of her mother. And you know what became of her, don’t you? Be careful where you place your trust, Melissa. Sometimes devotion is the easiest string to pull.”
My breath caught, ice stabbing through my chest. But the door clicked shut before I could summon a reply.
Silence fell again, almost suffocating. I sagged against the pillows, trembling, every muscle screaming from the effort of holding myself together.
Clara returned minutes later, balancing a tray with trembling hands. She froze when she saw my face. “Melissa? What happened? You’re pale as death.”
I forced myself to meet her eyes, swallowing the terror Leon’s words had left coiled in me. “Leon was here,” I whispered, my throat raw.
Her eyes blazed with horror and fury. “That snake. I should have never left you…”
I gripped her wrist with what little strength I had. “No, Clara. Don’t blame yourself. He wanted to rattle me, but he won’t win. He thinks I’m broken, but he’s wrong. I may be weak now, but I will rise again.”
Even as I said it, my body trembled, wracked with weakness. But beneath it, beneath the pain and the sickness, a new fire smoldered.