Chapter 132: A Calculated Provocation
Chapter 132: A Calculated Provocation
(Celeste’s POV)
Marcus slammed his fist on the wooden table, rattling the moon–blessed wine glasses and silencing the low murmurs of nearby wolves. The tension in the air became palpable, his violet eyes glowing with fury as he glared at me.
“How did you discover this?” he hissed, his voice barely above a growl. His claws extended slightly, scraping the edge of the table and leaving behind deep grooves in the ancient wood.
I raised my glass with calm precision, taking a delicate sip of my wine. The sharp sweetness rolled over my tongue as I savored his unraveling emotions.
“Does it matter?” I asked lightly, setting the wine down with an audible clink. “Your reaction right now says more than any confirmation ever could.”
Marcus’s royal wolf surged forward, his presence oppressive as the pack wolves in the tavern shifted uncomfortably. Most kept their gazes down, as though avoiding his wrath might render
them invisible.
“It matters,” Marcus growled, his voice dropping an octave. His hands clenched into fists, the
cracks of his knuckles echoing faintly. “Tell me who leaked this.”
“If I recall,” I began, my tone purposefully indifferent, “pack healers tend to know… sensitive
information about those they treat.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Impossible. The healers are bound by royal decree. They
wouldn’t dare.”
I tilted my head slightly, pretending to consider his argument. “Wouldn’t they? The human
tendency to gossip isn’t entirely absent in wolves.”
Marcus’s claws dug deeper into the wood, splinters breaking away beneath his tightening grip.
His frustration brewed like a storm, filling the space between us.
“If a mere healer knew,” he growled, his teeth bared slightly, “it would be all over every pack
within days.”
I smirked faintly, enjoying the threads of doubt winding through his mind. His sharp instincts,
frayed by his desperation to hold onto his reputation, finally turned toward the true target.
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Chapter 132: A Calculated Provo…
“Unless…” Marcus breathed, his voice becoming lethal. The corner of his mouth twitched,
baring a pointed fang. “Unless it came from someone more powerful.”
I said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow. The silence spoke volumes as his gaze darkened further, his thoughts catching fire.
“Alexander,” he spat, slamming his palm down again, hard enough to make the wood creak.
“That beta-born thinks he can cross me?”
His snarl reverberated through the tavern, causing the pack wolves to flinch collectively. A low
buzz of murmured speculation rose from neighboring tables as the onlookers exchanged
uneasy glances.
“Interesting theory,” I remarked idly, lifting my glass once again. “But you shouldn’t assume so
quickly. Baseless accusations aren’t befitting a royal, don’t you think?”
Marcus’s wolf snarled in my direction, his anger palpable as he dug his claws into the arms of
his chair. The chair groaned under the pressure, teetering dangerously on its legs.
“Don’t toy with me, Little Moon,” he hissed, leaning closer. His violet eyes flared with barely
restrained rage. “If Alexander was involved, I’ll deal with him my way.”
“Your way?” I echoed calmly, my voice cutting through his growl like a blade. “And what
exactly would that accomplish? Would you announce to the entire kingdom that you’re
tracking down the source of rumors that just happen to align perfectly with the truth?”
Marcus’s face twisted into a feral snarl. For a moment, I thought his restraint might snap. His
claws grazed the edge of the table once more before he forced himself back.
“You think you’ve cornered me?” he sneered, his tone dripping with venom. “This little game
you’re playing… You won’t win, Celeste.”
I smiled faintly, the corners of my lips curving upward just enough to needle his pride.
“Game?” I repeated softly. “Marcus, I don’t need to ‘win.‘ The moment you reacted, the battle
was over.”
His violet eyes narrowed further, his calculation colliding with his fury. He leaned back slightly, his royal wolf radiating suppressed rage as he forced himself to appear composed.
“And what is it you want from me?” he finally asked after a long pause. His tone was sharp, his words slicing through the tension like a blade. “What do you expect me to give you?”
“Simple,” I replied, folding my hands neatly on the table. My voice was calm, deliberate. “Stay away from me.”
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Chapter 132: A Calculated Provo…
A dangerous smile tugged at Marcus’s lips. His fangs gleamed as his wolf practically growled
beneath his breath.
“And if I don’t?” he challenged, his voice low and threatening.
“You won’t like the results,” I said evenly, the calm certainty in my tone making the smile slip
from his face.
He waited for me to continue, his royal blood too proud to show outright fear, even when he
should.
“I’ve paid every major wolf blogger in the territory,” I explained. My voice remained calm, but my words carried the weight of finality. “Including WolfByte.”
Marcus stiffened almost imperceptibly. I noted the way his fingers twitched against the table, the subtle signal of a wolf struggling to suppress his instincts.
“One word from me,” I continued, “and your secret becomes the headline on every social feed in the kingdom. Detailed accounts of your diminished Alpha powers. Speculative theories about how long you’ve been hiding. All trending by dawn.”
“You wouldn’t,” he growled immediately. But the flicker of uncertainty in his violet eyes betrayed him.
“Wouldn’t I?” I asked. My tone was quiet, almost disinterested. But my unwavering gaze
burned with truth.
The low buzz of the tavern seemed to quiet as Marcus processed the reality of my words. Every passing second deepened the lines of tension in his clenched jaw.
“You overestimate the strength of your position,” he said after a long pause. His words were slow, deliberate. “Do you really think the Alpha King would allow such an attack on his
bloodline?”
“The Alpha King might try to shield you,” I acknowledged. “But even he can’t erase your reputation once it’s public knowledge. How do you think the other packs would treat a ‘weakened royal‘ barely clinging to his title?”
Marcus’s claws scraped against the table one last time before he ripped his hand away. The cut on his palm was deep, though the blood seemed less a concern to him than the unspoken
threat hanging between us.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned. His tone lacked its usual bite, reduced to hollow
frustration.
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Chapter 132: A Calculated Provo…
“I’m familiar with burns,” I replied simply, memories of Moon Shadow Prison flashing briefly
behind my calm facade.
Marcus stared at me for a moment longer, his wolf bristling with enraged helplessness. But he
didn’t argue further. My point had sunk in too deeply to ignore.
Without another word, he pushed his chair back abruptly, the legs screeching loudly against
the floor. Pack wolves scattered from his path as he stormed out of the tavern.
The door swung shut behind him with enough force to rattle the windows. I exhaled softly, finally allowing my shoulders to relax.
The tavern’s murmurs swelled, questions and whispers buzzing around me like a swarm of bees. I glanced toward WolfByte’s corner, where the blogger’s curiosity practically radiated
across the room.
Savoring the last of my wine, I rose to leave. My smile remained faint as I walked toward the door, past pack wolves who stared but dared not approach.
By the time I reached the pack house, familiar scents drifted through the cool night air. I
turned toward them, unsurprised to find Victoria and Scarlett rushing toward me.
“Celeste!” Victoria called, her voice tinged with frantic concern.
Her emerald eyes scanned me in disbelief, as though struggling to process what she saw.
“You’re unharmed?” she asked breathlessly.
I raised an eyebrow, letting her words sink in. “Did you expect otherwise?”
Victoria hesitated. Her silence spoke louder than anything she might have said.
Instead, Scarlett seized the moment. Tears filled her emerald eyes as she clutched my hands tightly, her wolf radiating pitiful submission.
“Sister,” she whimpered, her voice shaking with emotion. “Please, I’ll take Marcus’s torture if you’ll spare Grace!”
The plea was loud, dramatic. Scarlett’s trembling hands clung to mine as though her desperation might melt my resolve.
“You’re offering yourself to protect Grace?” I asked softly, watching every movement she
made.
Her nod was frantic. “Anything for her!”
Victoria’s wolf bristled with unease beside us.
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