And Zion? He was already isolated by the council. One more political misstep didn’t matter to him, so long as it wasn’t connected to Addison. Yes, it contradicted his long-term plan of growing strong enough to shield Addison if the Alpha King ca for her, but right now?
Right now, Zion was still an Alpha. And no Alpha tolerated open defiance in their own territory, especially not a challenge to their authority.
But Claire was no fool—she was a master manipulator who knew exactly when to advance and when to retreat. Realizing she wouldn’t win this confrontation, she gracefully stood up, masking her retreat behind a sweet, composed smile. She played the role of the magnanimous woman, never letting it show that she was backing down with her tail between her legs.
Without missing a beat, she redirected her attention. If Zion was a wall she couldn’t climb, then she’d find another way in. Her eyes fell on the forr Luna—the woman who had once treated her kindly. Claire glided toward her, the picture of warmth and humility, already shifting her strategy. If she couldn’t crack Zion’s defenses, then she’d win over his mother. The forr Luna might no longer hold the title, but her influence in the pack remained significant. Gaining her favor could still open doors.
The reason Claire had never managed to get close to the forr Luna all these years was simple—opportunity. When the forr Luna first assigned attendants to serve Claire, it was a gesture of goodwill, ant to ensure Claire was properly cared for and surrounded by people who could support her. It was a significant advantage for Claire, one she had quietly capitalized on.
But the forr Luna herself had long withdrawn from daily life. Ever since losing her mate, her heart had been broken—both figuratively and literally. The illness that plagued her wasn’t sothing any doctor or healer could cure, not even the Saintess. It was the kind of sickness that only the will to live could nd, and the forr Luna no longer had that will.
Because of this, she spent most of her days secluded in her chambers, eating her als in solitude and rarely appearing in public. This left Claire with few chances to interact with her. But whenever even the smallest opportunity arose, Claire never let it slip by. She was patient, calculating, always ready to act.
And though the forr Luna remained distant, it was no secret that she had a softer spot for Claire than she ever had for Addison. Claire knew it—and she intended to use it.
"Madam, you’re already awake? Let’s eat together," Claire said warmly as she quickly approached the forr Luna, reaching out to support her with gentle care. She walked beside her as if she belonged there, then threw a glance back at Zion—a soft, apologetic smile on her lips, her expression painted with frustration and a hint of wounded pride.
Once she helped the forr Luna to her seat, Claire deliberately chose the spot on the opposite side—far from the Luna’s chair. Just as she was about to sit down, she turned to Zion again, her eyes shimring as if on the verge of tears. Her voice ca out soft, trembling with emotion.
"Alpha Zion," she began, "I hope you can forget about that night and not hold it against . I know I haven’t been myself lately. Ever since I lost my pup... my only son... I’ve been struggling. He was my anchor in this unfamiliar place. I’ve just been so lonely. That night, I was in heat—I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I couldn’t control myself. I never ant to offend you."
The room fell into an uneasy silence.
With that single statent, Claire accomplished exactly what she intended. She never said explicitly what happened, but she didn’t have to. Every adult present could read between the lines. Her carefully chosen words planted seeds of implication—that sothing intimate had occurred between her and Zion during her heat. And more than that, she subtly shifted the bla—casting herself as the grieving mother, and Addison, Zion’s so-called Luna, as the cause of her pain.
It was a masterstroke of manipulation: simultaneously seeking sympathy, discrediting Addison, and tainting Zion’s image with ambiguity, all without ever telling a direct lie.
And if Zion continued making things difficult for Claire, it would only seem as though he was rejecting her place in his pack—rejecting the royal princess herself—while simultaneously trying to erase the sins committed by his Luna. Sins, she reminded him, that were punishable by death.
Upon hearing this, Zion’s fists clenched at his sides, veins bulging across the backs of his hands. His jaw tightened so hard that the cords in his neck and temples stood out sharply. He looked as though he was on the verge of snapping.
He was doing everything in his power to suppress his wolf. Shura was close to the surface, snarling with rage and barely restrained—desperate to tear Claire apart.
But Zion knew he had to hold back. Because as much as it infuriated him, there was a sliver of truth in Claire’s words. For now, at least. Without solid evidence, and with Addison still missing, Claire was the only one left who could speak about what truly happened that day. She had the power to twist the narrative however she pleased, and with Addison gone, no one could challenge her version of events.
Claire was a master at this ga—patient, strategic, and calculating. She knew when to retreat in order to advance. Charging forward now would only end in failure, so she pulled back gracefully, playing the part of the wronged woman to perfection.
But beneath her calm mask, Claire was terrified. If she hadn’t caught sight of the forr Luna—the one person in this household who had always supported her—she might have truly lost control.
Sure enough, the forr Luna reacted exactly as Claire had hoped. The mont she heard Claire ntion losing her pup and going into heat, her eyes flashed with a mixture of sympathy and veiled satisfaction. She understood imdiately—Claire had attempted to seduce her son. But instead of anger, her expression softened. She took Claire’s hand in hers, then turned to Zion with a smile that stoked the flas of the room’s already strained tension.
"Zion, my son," she said gently, "you should take good care of Claire. You brought her here, after all. She’s our guest—your responsibility. Not like that jinx of a Luna who ran off. Maybe she even eloped with soone else and even caused the death of Claire’s pup—"
She never finished the sentence.
Zion’s fist slamd down on the thick rosewood table, the sound like thunder as it cracked and splintered down the middle. The sheer force silenced the hall. A cold, murderous aura radiated from him, pressing down on everyone like a physical weight.
No one dared breathe.
"Mom, I don’t tolerate anyone speaking ill of my woman—not even you."
Zion’s voice was a low, ominous snarl, vibrating with restrained fury. His fangs had elongated, and his eyes blazed gold—clear signs that Shura, his wolf, had surfaced and was seeing red.
The ntion of Addison eloping with another man had snapped the last thread of rationality holding Zion together. His anger was so palpable, so raw, that even his own mother flinched under the weight of his hostility.
User Comments
0 comments from readers