The air froze solid.
The smiles on their faces locked in place, and they stumbled over themselves to correct the mistake, words tripping out in awkward, half-formed apologies.
I didn't speak. I didn't acknowledge the glances they cast my way, some startled, some pitying.
They hadn't been wrong, really.
Soon enough, I wouldn't be the Blackthorne Luna at all.
With how Kael Blackthorne doted on Vesper Duskmere now, perhaps the moment the bond rejection decree was finalized, he'd bring her into the ancestral den and claim her before the pack.
After the intermission, the auction shifted to bloodline relics and antiquities. I had no interest in any of it. I placed bids on a few of the most expensive pieces without really looking at them, then stood and left my seat.
I had just reached the corridor leading to the grand stairwell when a saccharine voice floated up behind me.
"Luna, do you have a moment to talk?"
I had barely stopped walking, hadn't even started to respond, when I saw Vesper Duskmere raise her hand.
The next second.
A sharp crack.
A slap landed hard across my face.
For a moment, my mind went completely blank.
She had put her full strength behind it. Heat blazed across my cheek in an instant, my ears rang with a high, buzzing whine, and every thought emptied out of my head.
I pressed my hand to my face on instinct, almost unable to react at all.
When awareness came flooding back, rage surged up like something feral.
"Vesper Duskmere, what are you doing!"
I raised my hand to strike back.
But before the blow could land, a hand caught my wrist.
Kael Blackthorne.
He seized my wrist in a crushing grip, hard enough to make my fingers go numb. His Alpha aura pressed outward, a cold, heavy pulse that made the air around us thicken.
His voice carried open displeasure.
"Clara, Vesper hasn't provoked you. Why would you hit her?"
I froze for a single heartbeat, then wrenched my arm free, my voice trembling beyond my control.
"I hit her? Kael Blackthorne, ask anyone standing here who struck first!"
The words had barely left my mouth before Vesper's eyes reddened. Tears gathered fast, spilling to the edges, and she shrank into herself with a look of such wounded innocence it was almost artful.
Her voice came out soft and quivering.
"Kael, you're the one who said I was too timid, that I should find chances to toughen up. I thought about it for a long time before I decided that slapping the Blackthorne Luna in front of everyone would be the greatest challenge I could find. Otherwise I truly couldn't think of an opportunity."
Her voice grew smaller, more pitiful with every word.
"But the Luna was so fierce just now. I was frightened…"
Her tears fell one after another, like beads dropping from a snapped string.
After hearing her out, Kael frowned.
"Telling you to build courage doesn't mean you can hit someone."
Especially not me.
But the reproach in his voice was so faint it barely carried weight at all.
Vesper sniffled, crying harder now.
"I'm sorry. I was too foolish. You said the Luna had a gentle temper. I thought even if I hit her, she wouldn't get angry. I didn't expect…"
She trailed off into a choked, trembling whimper, her distress so exaggerated it bordered on performance.
Kael's expression softened completely.
His heart had cracked open for her. He forgot any thought of blame, one hand wiping the tears from her cheeks, his voice low and coaxing.
"All right, all right. No one blames you. Stop crying. Be good."
I stood there, watching this scene, and felt my chest go cold in slow, spreading waves.
Anger and hurt churned together, rising until I couldn't hold the words back any longer.
"Kael Blackthorne, I'm the one who was struck. What right do you have to forgive her on my behalf? And Vesper Duskmere, what innocence are you performing? Who decides to slap someone as a way to build courage?"
My voice climbed higher than I could rein in.
Vesper flinched at the sound, her crying worsening until she could barely breathe, gasping as though she might collapse at any moment.
Kael's heart broke for her entirely.
The look he turned on me held an edge of impatience now, his tone careless.
"She's a young she-wolf. One slap from her, how much force could it possibly carry? Do you really need to make this much of it? She's already so guilt-ridden she's about to cry herself unconscious. Clara, enough."
