Katarina POV:
The tack room smelled of cedar and polished leather. It was usually my favorite smell. Today, it smelled of betrayal.
I walked in to put my gear away and stopped.
On the main display hook, where my custom saddle usually sat, there was a new helmet. It was velvet, black, and encrusted with small diamonds. On the side, in silver thread, was the De Luca crest.
A note was attached: For Aria. So you can ride like a Queen.
He gave her the crest. The symbol of the Pack. He was practically declaring her Luna in everything but name.
I felt a wave of nausea. I needed to run. I needed to feel the wind to clear the scent of her cheap perfume from my nose.
I bypassed Obsidian. Alessandro had probably contaminated him with her scent already.
Instead, I chose Fury.
Fury was a chestnut mare, young and unpredictable. She fit my mood perfectly.
I tacked her up quickly. I grabbed an older saddle from the back, one I hadn't used in years but looked sturdy enough.
I led Fury out to the jumping course. The sky was grey, threatening a storm.
"Let's go, girl," I whispered.
We started at a trot, then a canter. The rhythm of the horse's hooves soothed me. Thump-thump, thump-thump.
I pushed her into a gallop. The wind whipped my hair back. For a moment, I wasn't the rejected wife. I wasn't the frozen Luna. I was just speed and muscle.
"Jump!" I commanded.
We cleared the first fence easily. Then the second.
The third fence was a double oxer. High and wide.
We approached it fast. Fury gathered her legs. We launched into the air. We were flying.
SNAP.
The sound was like a gunshot.
Mid-air, the girth strap holding the saddle to the horse snapped. The saddle slid sideways violently.
I lost my balance. Gravity took over.
I fell.
I hit the ground hard. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs. I heard the sickening crunch of bone before I felt the pain.
Then, the agony exploded in my right leg.
"Ah!" I gasped, curling into a ball in the dirt.
Fury ran to the other side of the field, spooked.
I tried to move my leg, but a searing, burning heat shot through my thigh. It wasn't just the break. It felt like fire was eating my flesh.
I looked down at my riding pants. The fabric was torn. Blood was seeping out, dark and red.
But the wound... it wasn't healing.
Wolf regeneration is fast. A broken bone should knit in hours. A cut should close in minutes.
This wound was sizzling. Smoke was rising from it.
Silver.
I dragged myself toward the saddle lying in the dirt. I examined the broken buckle.
The metal where it had snapped wasn't just worn. It had been filed down. And coated in a dark, glittering paste.
Liquid silver.
Someone had sabotaged the saddle. Someone wanted me to fall. And they used silver to ensure I wouldn't heal, to ensure the pain was excruciating.
"Help..." I tried to Mind-Link, but the pain was scrambling my focus.
I looked toward the house. Through the haze of agony, I saw them.
Alessandro and Aria were on the patio. He was laughing, holding a glass of wine. She was giggling, pointing at the clouds.
They were so far away.
It took an hour for a patrol guard to find me.
By the time I was in the Pack infirmary, my leg was swollen to twice its size. The doctor, a Beta named Dr. Lewis, looked pale as he cleaned the silver out of the wound.
"This... this shouldn't have happened, Luna," he stammered. "The silver... it's deep."
The door banged open. Alessandro walked in. He held a bouquet of lilies. Not the rare night-blooming ones I grew. Cheap, supermarket lilies.
"What happened?" he asked, sounding annoyed rather than worried. "I was in a meeting."
"The saddle broke," I gritted out, gripping the sheets. "It was sabotaged. With silver."
Alessandro's eyes flickered. He didn't look surprised.
"Don't be dramatic, Katarina," he said, tossing the flowers onto the bedside table. "Equipment fails. You shouldn't have been riding Fury. She's too wild for you."
"It was filed down, Alessandro," I hissed. "Someone tried to kill me."
"It was an accident," he stated firmly. "Stop trying to blame the staff for your own recklessness. I have to go. There are border disputes to handle."
He turned on his heel and walked out. He didn't touch me. He didn't ask about the pain.
I lay there, the silver burning in my blood.
That night, my hearing picked up voices in the hallway.
"The buckle was tampered with, Alpha," Mark's voice. Low. Serious. "I found traces of the silver paste in the trash bin near the East Wing guest rooms."
Aria's room.
"Silence it," Alessandro's voice commanded.
"Alpha?" Mark sounded shocked. "She tried to cripple the Luna. This is treason."
"I said silence it!" Alessandro hissed. "If the Elders find out, they'll skin her alive. It was just a prank gone wrong. Katarina is tough. She'll heal. Maybe a broken leg will teach her some humility. She walks around here like she owns the place."
"She does own the place, sir," Mark said quietly.
"Just do as I say, Mark. Bury it."
Tears finally leaked from my eyes. Hot, angry tears.
He knew. He knew she tried to maim me. And he was protecting her.
He wanted me broken. He wanted me humble.
I looked at the ceiling. The burning in my leg was nothing compared to the ice spreading through my heart.
"Okay, Alessandro," I whispered into the dark. "You want a war? You just started one."
