The Lies That Bind

“The northern pack has long forsaken their kind. They would rather see us die than extend a helping hand. They would rather respond with the head of our messengers than help their kind who suffer from the plague overtaking them. They do not deserve to be called our own. They do not deserve to have the honour of being associated with us. And so, we must get rid of them. If they refuse to help, then it would be better they cease to exist.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.

Just then, a guard rushed in, heading directly towards her. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She listened, her expression unchanging, then nodded. The guard turned and left as quickly as he had arrived.

Victoria smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips. “It seems there is more, honoured guests.”

“More to be told than us having to get rid of that ridiculous pack?” one alpha asked from further down the table.

“It would seem so,” Victoria replied, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“I kept this under wraps because I did not want to disturb any of you with what I was doing, especially given just how much each territory was going through and also those packs in the territory,” Victoria said.

She paused, taking a look at every member of the Enclave gathered. They all stared at her directly, clinging onto her every word. The flickering candlelight caught the edges of her face, casting shadows that made her look almost ethereal, almost divine. Her crimson gown seemed to absorb the light, and the gold threads woven through it glittered.

She smiled.

Yes, this was what she wanted. This was the life she had always known she deserved. They were in the palm of her hands. It was her they listened to. Every word of hers was law. Every gesture, every pause, every carefully crafted expression—it all served to remind them of who held the power. She had spent years building this moment, years weaving a web of lies and manipulation, and now, finally, it was all coming together.

She took a sip of wine, letting them wait. The wine was rich and dark, a deep ruby red that stained her lips like blood. She savored the taste, savoring the moment, savoring the power. Then she cleared her throat, her voice taking on a more serious tone as she set the cup down.

“I investigated the cause of the plague. I was certain there was something ominous behind it. A plague like this does not just affect all the territories at once. It is not possible. Even the one that happened around twenty years ago only affected one pack. No one else was affected.”

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle over the room. She watched as their eyes widened, as their minds began to race, as they started to connect the dots she had carefully laid out for them.

“But before I tell you the results of this investigation, I should note that all territories were affected by the plague except one. We did not hear of any news regarding them being affected.”

A murmur rippled through the table. Some members exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from curiosity to suspicion. A few shifted uncomfortably in their seats, as if they sensed where this was heading.

“But even if they were, don’t you think with the facility they have and with rumours about how good it is, they would have healed it already?” one alpha asked, leaning forward with a frown. He was a burly man from the southern territories, his face weathered by years of sun and wind, his hands calloused from hard labor.

“And our healers would have found a way to stop the plague too,” Philip added, his voice carrying a note of defiance. “I doubt that they could just heal it because of their supposed facility. What is it that they have that we don’t also have? We have healers too. We have resources. We have knowledge. If they could stop it, so could we.”

“Philip is right,” Victoria said with a nod, her voice smooth as honey. “I once thought that perhaps it was because their facility was good. But it’s not that. They were never affected by the plague at all.”

“How is that possible?” asked an alpha from a small pack in the eastern territory.

She was one of the oldest gathered at the table, but one wouldn’t know it because of how young she looked. A woman in her eighties, her body still perfectly fit, her brown hair styled to perfection with not a single strand out of place. Her skin was smooth, unlined, almost unnaturally so. She wore simple but elegant robes of deep blue. Her name was Cindy, and she was the only one at the table who had been made aware of the plans Victoria had.

The symbol of her pack was a black wolf shaped like it was a river. It was stylishly done, so people wouldn’t know that she was one of the elders of the Black Circle. To the untrained eye, it was merely an artistic representation of her pack’s territory. But to those who knew, it was a mark of allegiance to a darker cause. The wolf’s form seemed to flow like water, its body twisting and curving in a way that mimicked the currents of a river, and its eyes were shaped like moons, a subtle nod to the Black Circle’s beliefs. It was a symbol of power, of secrecy, of a loyalty that ran deeper than the Enclave’s hollow alliances.

Victoria’s eyes met Cindy’s across the table, and a silent understanding passed between them. Cindy would play her part perfectly. She always did. She had been serving Victoria for decades, her loyalty unwavering, her dedication absolute.

“Oh, Cindy, surely old age has not made you dense, right?” Victoria asked, a hint of condescension in her voice.