Chapter 112: A Wolf’s Bitter Truth
Chapter 112: A Wolf’s Bitter Truth
(Celeste’s POV)
Scarlett’s emerald eyes immediately filled with shimmering tears. Her wolf’s posture softened, radiating artificial distress, a display so perfectly performed it made my stomach churn.” Sister, please,” she began, the word falling from her lips with practiced grief. “Your guard Nina, she’s… she’s been so unreasonable. I only want to help you.”
The word “Sister” from her mouth burned like poison on my already raw wounds. My silver–scarred wolf snarled internally, twisting against even the smallest thread of her
manipulation.
“Leave,” I said, my voice icy and cutting, despite its hoarseness from screaming during
Marcus’s “demonstration” in his private den.
Scarlett flinched, her hand falling dramatically to her side. She stiffened as though deeply hurt. “But I…” she tried again, her tone softer now, breaking as if she were moments from
collapse.
Victoria stepped forward at this moment, her wolf rushing to the front of her emotions. Her green eyes shimmered with tears, her lips trembling like she had spent days rehearsing her lines for this very moment. “How can you think I’d want to harm my pup?” she asked, her voice cracking with maternal anguish.
I laughed bitterly, low and sharp. The sound seemed to pierce through Victoria’s tears, causing her to visibly flinch. “Your pup?” I repeated with venom. “That’s strange coming from a wolf who stood by and watched Marcus lash me with silver chains while I screamed. Where was
this concern then?”
Her wolf whimpered audibly, projecting its useless regret. “Celeste, please. You must understand. I had no choice! The Alpha King’s decree-”
“Save your performance for someone who believes it,” I interrupted coldly, tilting my head and fixing my gaze on her. “My enhanced senses, Victoria. Remember them? They’re sharp enough to detect the calculation buried beneath your tears.”
Victoria recoiled like I had physically struck her. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to deny my claim, but all she managed was a pathetic whimper.
Scarlett, stepping into her predictable role as her mother’s protector, moved forward. Her wolf
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Chapter 112: A Wolf’s Bitter Truth
radiated false outrage, and her emerald eyes flashed with carefully measured anger. “How dare you speak to Luna this way?” she hissed. “After everything they’ve done for you?”
My fingers twitched at Scarlett’s words. The urge to laugh, to spit venom back at her, clawed at me, but instead, I rose my chin with deliberate calm. “Everything?” I echoed, my voice dangerously low. “Like throwing me into Moon Shadow Prison for your crime? Or perhaps sacrificing me to Marcus, even after knowing his victims never survive his hunting grounds? Which part would you call ‘everything, Scarlett?”
Victoria crumbled further, reaching for my hand desperately, but I pulled it back sharply. Even
the small movement sent raw agony through my wolfsbane–burned flesh, but I refused to let
her touch me.
“Celeste, forgive me,” she pleaded pitifully. Her wolf whimpered again, nudging at mine with
weak, pathetic–sorrow. “I prayed to the Moon Goddess every night. I begged her to let me take
your place-”
Her words stabbed at my sanity. “Prayers don’t heal scars,” I hissed, my tone colder than I
thought possible. “You’ll have to find another way to atone for what you’ve done.”
Victoria’s sobs intensified, but they no longer moved me. I turned my gaze away from her
entirely, focusing instead on Nina, whose silver–gray wolf radiated unwavering protection.
Scarlett, however, wasn’t finished. She stepped forward, her voice rising with what she likely thought was righteous outrage. “You don’t understand!” she cried out. “My mother–the Luna—
your family–had no choice but to follow the Alpha King’s decisions! You think you’re the only
one who’s suffered for this pack?”
“Don’t speak to me about suffering,” I snapped, my voice like a whip cutting through the room. My violet eyes locked onto her, burning with all the hatred I had left to give. “Talk to me about suffering when you’ve spent four years chained in silver for someone else’s crime. When you’ve screamed for hours under Marcus’s ‘care.‘ When you’ve bled for wolves who would
celebrate your death.”
Scarlett fell silent, her emerald eyes wide, her lips trembling.
Victoria tried, once again, to salvage control of the situation. She reached for me, her hands shaking with desperation. “Daughter,” she started again, her voice cracking on the word. “You
are still my daughter. Nothing can-”
I cut her off sharply with a low growl. “I’m not your daughter,” I snapped, turning my glare toward her fully. My violet eyes bore into her tear-rimmed green ones. “Something you made very clear when you chose silence over protecting me from Marcus.”
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Victoria visibly deflated, her wolf keening audibly.
Dr. Pierce, who had been quietly tending to my wounds during the exchange, finally spoke. “Luna Victoria, Miss Scarlett,” he said, his voice steady and professional. “I must insist you. leave. The patient’s condition is critical. Continued agitation will only worsen her recovery.”
Victoria looked as though she wanted to argue, but even she knew better than to challenge a pack healer’s authority in matters regarding a patient.
Scarlett lingered by the door, her emerald eyes calculating as they studied my bandaged form.
Slowly, she pressed her lips into a small, false smile. “Rest well, Sister,” she murmured softly.
“We’ll visit again soon.”
The moment the door closed behind them, my energy collapsed. Exhaustion weighed heavily
on every inch of me. But still, bitterness bubbled in my chest.
I let out a hollow laugh, my voice bitter and raw as I spoke to Nina. “Her wolf’s tears seemed
so genuine, didn’t they?” I said sarcastically, though my voice trembled from the physical
effort. The memory of Victoria’s concerned sobs twisted inside me like a cruel joke. “As if she
hasn’t spent the last four years treating me as disposable.”
Nina’s silver–gray wolf surged forward protectively, pressing her energy against mine. “My
Lady…” she said softly, uncertainty and pity lacing her tone.
I clenched my jaw, forcing back the flood of emotions threatening to escape. “At least I share
no blood with them,” I said after a long pause. My words were bitter, but the truth behind them
felt strangely comforting. “My wolf would never sink to the kind of manipulative displays they
perform so effortlessly.”
Nina stayed silent, her wolf’s protective energy holding steady against the storm inside me.
Two days passed in restless quiet. My body remained weak, my burns aching with every
breath. But even as pain clawed at me, I knew I couldn’t remain bedridden any longer.
“Nina,” I said firmly, though my voice still wavered with weakness. “Help me up.”
Her silver–gray eyes widened immediately, panic flashing in her expression. “Miss,” she began
cautiously, her wolf already bristling in protest. “Your wolfsbane burns haven’t closed yet. The
wounds… they’re still bleeding.”
“I don’t care,” I said sharply, though the effort of speaking sent pain ripping through my throat.
“I have to see Eleanor.”
Nina’s lips pressed tightly together, her hesitation clear in the way her hands hovered by her
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sides. “She’ll sense something’s wrong,” I added, softening my tone slightly. “You know she will if I don’t go to her.”
Nina’s resolve wavered. Her wolf, loyal and protective as ever, wanted to argue. But she also knew the bond I shared with Eleanor was unique. Necessary.
Finally, with a soft sigh, she stepped forward to help me out of bed. “At least let me bind the
wounds tightly,” she said firmly, already reaching for the bandages.
I nodded weakly, grateful for her understanding.
As Nina worked carefully to redress my injuries, she dipped her fingers into the moon–blessed
healing salve, her movements deliberate and precise. “You look pale,” she murmured softly, her
voice low with concern.
I caught sight of my reflection in the small mirror nearby. The woman staring back at me-
pale, hollow–cheeked, her violet eyes dulled by exhaustion–was someone I barely recognized.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quietly, though my voice lacked the strength of conviction it once
carried.
As I turned away from the mirror, a faint sound caught both our attention. Voices. Familiar
ones.
They drifted in from just beyond the door, low but unmistakable.
Nina stilled beside me, her silver–gray wolf swaying anxiously. “Lucas,” she said softly, her
expression shifting to one of unease.
My stomach tightened.
But then came another voice, one that made my chest constrict painfully. A voice as familiar
as it was complicated.
Flowing through the air, with the icy scent of pine and frost accompanying it, was Alexander.
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