Chapter 20
20 Chapter 20 A Mothers Final Gift
Faye’s POV
“You…” Eileen’s words died in her throat, her face cycling through shock and annoyance like she couldn’t decide which emotion to settle on.
She stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, clearly not expecting any pushback from her supposedly obedient daughter. “Faye, how dare you speak such words p>
Her eyes darted around the tent like she expected palace guards to materialize from the shadows and drag us both away for treason.
“I believe Lord Hardy wants me dead,” I whispered, letting my voice shake just enough to sell the fear. “The servant who brought the tea… she wore the same uniform as his soldiers. She said he ordered it personally. Mother, we have to tell the King about this. We have to annul the marriage before he succeeds in killing me. Please, you have to help me.” This content belongs to
The color drained from Eileen’s face, and I caught that flash of panic in her eyes. Not concern for my safety, but terror over what I’d just suggested. Her gaze swept the tent again, searching for eavesdroppers.
“Faye!” she hissed, dropping her voice to an urgent whisper. “Do you have any idea what you’re suggesting? The marriage contract bearing your signature is already on its way to the royal castle. In the eyes of the law, you are Lord Hardy’s wife. There is no undoing what’s been done p>
“Don’t you understand what divorcing royalty means? Especially him? They would charge you with treason and execute you on the spot. Stop this madness right
now p>
“But…” I started, allowing my bottom lip to quiver.
“But what?” she snapped, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Would you rather your sister had married him? Is that what this is about p>
I opened my mouth as if to respond, then let it fall shut, dropping my gaze to my hands. I didn’t need to answer. The silence said everything.
01:35
That was exactly what I wanted her to believe. A terrified bride clinging to her mother’s skirts. A girl who wished her sister could take her place in this nightmare.
Let them see exactly that.
From my peripheral vision, I caught it. The slightest movement, a shared look so brief most people would miss it entirely. Once upon a time, I would have missed
it too.
But not anymore. Now I noticed everything.
Eileen’s eyes found Sally’s. It lasted maybe half a second, but it carried the weight of a conversation. A silent cue between co-conspirators.
Right on schedule, Sally made her entrance.
She moved to my bedside with practiced grace, sinking to her knees beside me and capturing my hands in hers. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.
I blinked hard, studying her face.
How was that even possible?
Had she actually been crying this entire time? Or had she engineered this look somehow?
Maybe she’d rubbed her eyes raw, pinched her cheeks until they flushed, forced tears until her lashes
clumped together in just the right way. I couldn’t tell
anymore.
How does someone cry so much yet still look this flawless? Was any of it genuine? Or was it all carefully applied makeup designed to mimic grief?
“I know you hate me,” Sally whispered, her voice breaking at precisely the right moment. I turned toward her slowly, eyebrows drawn together. What game is she playing now?
Then it hit me.
“I know you think I should be the one marrying Lord Hardy,” she continued, her lips trembling as she clutched her hands in her lap. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe it should have been me. If it would save you from this suffering, then I should have taken your place. Even if it meant being nothing more than his concubine… I could have gone with you. Maybe then it
wouldn’t feel so hopeless p>
“Sally, enough!” Eileen cut in sharply, her hand shooting out to grab her daughter’s arm. “How can you say such things p>
Her tone walked the line between scolding and panic, as if Sally’s words were too dangerous to speak aloud. “Your sister isn’t heartless. She’s protected you ever since you failed to awaken all those years ago. How could she let you suffer? She knew you wouldn’t survive that man. She married him to save you. Don’t twist her sacrifice into something selfish with this
nonsense p>
I sat there, momentarily stunned.
The way their voices cracked, the trembling in their hands, the anguished expressions… it could convince anyone. If I hadn’t overheard their real conversation, might believe they were genuinely in pain. That Sally was drowning in guilt.
But now? All I could see was how effortlessly they switched roles. Eileen playing the protective mother. Sally playing the guilt-ridden sister.
I
“No…” Sally shook her head violently. “I can’t let her go to the North alone. I can’t stand by and watch that monster destroy her p>
“Sally p>
“I’ll speak to Lord Hardy myself p>
“Sally, what are you thinking?” Eileen’s voice pitched higher. “Stop this immediately. You’re going to…” She looked at me desperately, silently begging me to intervene and ease my sister’s supposed guilt. But I remained silent. How could I speak when Sally’s performance was this convincing? “This could destroy our entire pack! Stop it. Faye, say something to your sister p>
“I…” I lowered my head. “I don’t blame you p>
“Yes, you do,” Sally insisted. “But don’t worry. I’ll speak to Lord Hardy. I’ll marry him as his concubine, and
we’ll travel north together. We can protect each other,
and I p>
“Enough!” Eileen shouted. “Someone! Come here immediately p>
One of our pack’s omegas rushed into the tent within seconds.
“Take the young miss back to the mansion and don’t let her speak to anyone else,” Eileen commanded. “Use whatever force necessary p>
“No… Mother, please don’t p>
I watched as two omegas physically dragged Sally away from me. In the past, this performance would have immediately convinced me to die for her. But now I could see the cracks in the facade. Sally had alpha blood running through her veins. How could two mere omegas overpower her so easily?
This was just another scene in their elaborate play. Something designed to drown me in guilt.
“Your sister loves you so much, she’d rather
accompany you to the North than consider what’s best for the pack, Eileen’s words pulled me from my thoughts.
I met her gaze directly.
She pressed on. “Sally is our pack’s future. She was
born to lead, and you know that. If Lord Hardy truly wanted you dead, his people wouldn’t have bothered saving your life p>
Then, with a smile too gentle to be trusted, she
reached into her cloak and produced a small glass vial. “I want you to keep this,” she said, pressing it into my palm.
The vial was delicate. Clear glass with a cork stopper, no labels, just fine white powder inside that looked like ground bone.
“It has no scent,” she added quietly. “No taste either. If anyone tries to harm you again… use this. It works quickly. You won’t need much p>
My fingers slowly closed around the vial, the cold glass burning against my skin.
I didn’t need to ask what it contained. This was poison.
The kind that could kill a werewolf in under sixty seconds. The kind outlawed throughout the kingdom. My pulse hammered, but I kept my expression neutral.
“Thank you,” I said softly, as if I meant it. I gripped the
vial tightly as thoughts raced through my mind. Why give me poison? Were they planning to frame me? Make it appear I was plotting to assassinate Hardy? Or did they expect me to actually do it?
No. That couldn’t be their plan.
If I killed Hardy, if I even attempted it, what would happen to our pack? The King would never see it as the desperate act of one frightened girl. He would see it as a political assassination. A betrayal orchestrated by Alpha Rowan Stormhaven himself.
Hardy wasn’t just some northern warrior, and everyone knew it. He was the King’s blood. The King’s favorite weapon. The moment news of his death reached the capital, the King wouldn’t send diplomats.
He would send an army.
Duskwood Pack would be reduced to ashes. Every member, guilty or innocent, would be slaughtered as an example. That’s how kings maintained power.
And regardless of how selfish or cruel Eileen was, regardless of how ambitious Sally had become… they weren’t fools.
They wouldn’t risk our pack’s complete annihilation just to eliminate me. Which meant one thing. This vial in my hand wasn’t intended for Hardy.
That left me with only darker possibilities. Either they planned to frame me for his murder, or they were giving me the means to end my own life.
I stared at her. Really studied her face. And that’s when the truth hit me.
She wanted me to kill myself.
She held my gaze as she added softly, “This is for your sister’s protection. This is all for the pack p>
Morh Lucia
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.