Elara POV:
A week passed in a blur of ink and parchment. Alpha Kael remained in his coma.
I, on the other hand, had accomplished three things.
First, I completed my mid-term examinations at the academy, ranking third in my entire class.
Second, I accepted a well-paid commission to translate a set of ancient Elven scrolls.
Third, I found a small, red-brick house for rent in the town near the academy.
I was sitting in the academy's grand library, surrounded by towering shelves. I was carefully transcribing the translation of a complex rune when a sharp pain lanced through my temples.
Elara! Where are you? Return to the manor immediately!
It was the Luna's voice, echoing inside my head. This was the Mind-Link, the telepathic network of the Pack. Normally, an Omega cannot block a Luna's connection.
But my mind was no longer a weak and pliant thing.
I drew my consciousness downward, imagining the severing of countless muddied synapses until all that remained in my mind was the dry rustle of parchment.
Busy.
I sent back the single word, then violently severed the connection. The silence in my head was a beautiful thing.
She would be furious. Let her be. In my dream, I had answered every summons like a trained dog, and it had earned me nothing but an early grave.
That evening, I returned to Blackwood Manor.
The moment I stepped into the grand hall, I knew it was a trap. The long oak dining table was lit by dozens of silver candelabras. The Luna sat at the head of the table, her face a mask of cold fury.
"Sit down, Elara," she commanded, pointing to a chair opposite her.
I did not move. I stood near the door, maintaining my distance.
"I prefer to stand, Luna. What is it you require?" I asked.
Luna's eyes narrowed. "The Healers have confirmed that your blood type is a rare match," she said, dispensing with all pleasantries. "We need half of your wolf core to neutralize the venom destroying Kael's."
"I am unwilling," I said. The words left my mouth before she had even finished her sentence. They were sharp, swift, and absolute.
Luna slammed her hands on the table, making the silver cutlery jump.
"How dare you!" she screamed. "Do you know what will happen to him if he does not receive a core?"
"I know precisely what becomes of an Omega who surrenders half her core," I replied, my voice as unadorned as the stone walls around us. "Chronic pain. The loss of the shift. A life cut short. The Moon Goddess showed me exactly what you are asking me to accept. You ask that I die a slow death so your son may live in comfort."
I looked at her without a flicker of pity.
"Kael can wait. When a Pack Warrior dies honorably in battle, their core can be transplanted to sustain him."
It would not restore him fully—only White Wolf blood could truly cleanse the venom and make him whole—but it would keep him alive. Let him settle for survival, just as he would have settled me with a lifetime of pain.
"You ungrateful creature!" Luna shrieked, her face purpling. "This manor has fed you! We have given you and your mother shelter for fifteen years! This is how you repay our grace?"
I let out a short, dry laugh.
"Grace?" I repeated, the word tasting like dirt. "My mother works sixteen hours a day, scrubbing your stone floors until her knees bleed." I pointed a finger at the gleaming floor beneath my feet. "She cooks your meals and washes your clothes for a few copper coins and a damp room in the basement."
I looked directly into the Luna's furious eyes.
"You purchased cheap labor, Luna. You did not purchase my life. And under the Academy's charter, you cannot touch me without the Crown's approval. There is no grace here."
I turned and walked up the stairs, ignoring the stream of vitriol she hurled at my back.
The Luna's shouts faded behind me. She did not know it yet, but she had already lost. The dream had freed me from the chains she still believed were wrapped around my throat.
Late that night, my mother came up to my attic. She looked terrified.
"I have the money from my translations," I told her, showing her a small leather pouch heavy with gold coins. "We are moving out. Soon."
Martha looked at the gold, then at me, and finally nodded, her expression firm and brave.
The next morning, I walked out of the heavy iron gates of the manor to head to the academy. Selene was waiting for me by the stone pillars. The morning wind was freezing, whipping her thin cloak about her.
"You are a monster, Elara," Selene spat, her eyes full of venom. "You are watching him die and doing nothing."
I stopped and looked at her. Several Pack members were walking by, heading to the morning market.
I made certain my voice was loud enough to carry on the wind.
"I did not tell him to run into the forest," I said clearly. "You knew your brother owed money to Rogues. You knew those Rogues carried venom no healer could cure."
Selene's eyes widened in panic as the passing wolves slowed their steps to listen.
"You wept to Kael and manipulated his Alpha pride," I continued, my voice cutting through the cold air like a shard of glass. "You sent him to his death because you wanted a free bodyguard to clean up your family's squalid affairs."
"Be silent!" Selene hissed, looking around nervously.
"You caused his broken core, Selene. Not I," I said. I pulled my warm wool cloak tighter around my shoulders.
I left her standing in the freezing wind, enveloped by the suspicious whispers of the Pack.
Let them whisper. Let them wonder. The truth was a weapon I had never wielded in my dream, and now it cut deeper than any claw.
