Looking back, I should have seen it coming. The way Rhea’s eyes darkened whenever the elders praised my strength, the way her lips curled into a forced smile when the Alpha took notice of my abilities. She was my friend, or so I thought, but beneath that mask of warmth, something sinister lurked.
She wasn’t satisfied being just another she-wolf in the pack. She wanted more. She wanted to stand where I stood.
At first, it was small things—little slights, barely noticeable at the time. A careless "forgotten" invitation to pack gatherings, always comparing her beauty to mine. I laughed it off, thinking she was joking. After all, Rhea had always been blunt, sometimes tactless, but I never thought she meant real harm.
I should have paid closer attention.
The first real sign came during our training sessions. Rhea and I had always sparred together, pushing each other to be better, but suddenly, her strikes became sharper, her blows landing with more force than necessary. She smiled after knocking me down, but there was no warmth in her eyes—only satisfaction. I ignored it, convincing myself I was imagining things.
Then came the rumors.
"Astrid’s getting too close to the Alpha. She’s too ambitious for a she-wolf. Maybe she’s trying to challenge the hierarchy."
"Did you hear? Xander and Dante—are at odds because of her. A she-wolf causing division? How disgraceful."
"She’s always been favored unfairly. Maybe she’s using her charms to stay on top."
At first, I brushed them off. I had grown up with Xander and Dante. We had been inseparable since we were pups. Our bond was one of loyalty, of friendship, nothing more. And as for the Alpha, he recognized my skills, nothing else. But the whispers grew louder, spreading like wildfire through the pack. I caught sidelong glances, the wary stares of my fellow wolves, the way conversations would hush when I entered a room.
And Rhea… she was always there, shaking her head sympathetically. "I don’t know who’s spreading these lies,"she’d say, gripping my hand as if she truly cared. "You don’t deserve this, Astrid. Maybe… maybe if you step back a little, they’ll stop."
Step back.
I stared at her, my gut twisting. There was something so careful in her wording, so rehearsed. As if she had practiced this in her head before coming to me. As if she had known I would confront her.
"You think stepping back will change anything?" I asked, my voice calm but sharp. "You think the pack will suddenly stop whispering if I just disappear?"
Rhea sighed, her golden eyes filled with something that almost resembled pity. Almost.
"Not disappear, Astrid. Just... ease up a little." She rubbed my palm, as if comforting me. "You don’t have to prove yourself so much. You already have."
I laughed—low, humorless. "Is that what they’re saying? That I’m trying too hard?"
Rhea pursed her lips, hesitating, like she was debating whether or not to tell me the truth.
"You’ve always been strong," she admitted, tilting her head. "But strength isn’t everything, Astrid. Sometimes, it’s about knowing when to let others take the lead."
I stiffened. "And who do you think should lead, then?"
She blinked, her expression unreadable.
I shook my head, jaw tightening. "I haven’t challenged anything, Rhea. I’ve only done what any warrior should do—what any future leader should do. I’ve trained harder than anyone. I’ve earned my place here."
Rhea’s smile was faint, almost sad. "I know that, Astrid. But does it really matter if they don’t?"
I stilled.
And that’s when I saw it.
The tiniest flicker of satisfaction in her gaze. The slight upturn at the corners of her lips. A shift in her posture—like she had finally guided me exactly where she wanted me.
This wasn’t just sympathy. This wasn’t just concern.
This was manipulation.
The realization settled like ice in my veins. I had trusted her for years. I had told her my fears, my struggles, my ambitions. I had let her in, never once questioning her loyalty.
And she had used it against me.
"You’re not really worried about me, are you?" I asked, my voice quiet.
Rhea blinked. "What?"
"You want me to step back," I said, tasting the truth as it left my lips. "Because if I do, it leaves space for someone else to step forward."
Rhea’s lips parted, but no words came out.
She didn’t deny it.
She didn’t even try.
I exhaled slowly, my pulse steady but my mind racing. "I’ve been so blind," I murmured, more to myself than to her. "I thought you were my friend."
Her brows drew together, her expression shifting into something that almost looked hurt. "I am your friend, Astrid. I just—"
"Just what?" I snapped, stepping closer. "Just want me to fade so you can shine?"
Rhea swallowed. "It’s not like that."
"Then what is it like?"
She was quiet.
And that silence told me everything.
That was when I understood.
Rhea hadn’t just been watching me all these years—she had been waiting. Waiting for an opportunity to undermine me, to make me doubt myself, to plant the seeds of my own downfall. She didn’t need to challenge me directly; she just had to make everyone else turn against me.
Still, I hesitated.
But then, the real betrayals began.
Rhea remained silent, but the way she gripped her skirt told me everything.
I tilted my head slightly, letting my gaze linger on her.
She could sense it, couldn’t she?
The shift in me.
The old Astrid—the naive, desperate girl they had once toyed with—was gone.
They had killed her.
And in her place, something much, much darker
And awakened.
