
You Stole My Pup, I'll Slaughter Your Pack!
Chapter 3
"Scream, and we both get caught, Luna," the raspy voice warned.
I twisted my shoulder, driving my elbow backward toward his ribs.
He caught my forearm mid-strike. With incredible force, he spun me around. My spine slammed against the freezing stone wall of the underground archive. The impact knocked the air from my lungs.
Pitch-black eyes stared down at me. The irises were entirely void of color, the permanent mark of a severed pack tie.
Silas Vane.
Kaelen's former enforcer. The man my husband had banished to the border wastelands three years ago.
"You always were a fighter, Elara," Silas murmured. His grip felt like iron bands locking around my wrists.
"You are trespassing on Blackwood territory, Vane," I stated. I kept my tone dead flat. I refused to show fear to an exiled killer.
"And you are breaking into the Alpha's private vault," he countered.
His rough, calloused thumb reached up. He dragged the abrasive pad of his skin across my cheekbone, catching a stray drop of moisture. I hadn't realized I was crying. The physical betrayal of my own body infuriated me.
"Tears?" Silas asked. His voice dropped into a mocking register. "For the silver pup? Or for the ten years you wasted on a lie?"
"Get your hands off me."
I shoved my palms flat against his chest. I called upon my spiritual core, intending to flood his nervous system with a paralyzing jolt of healing magic. I just needed one second to stun him.
A tiny spark flickered in my chest, then died instantly.
Nothing happened. The cavern of my magic sat completely hollow. It felt scraped clean.
Silas didn't even flinch. He looked down at my hands pressed against his leather jacket, then back up to my face.
"Running on empty," he observed. A dark smirk played on his lips. "He bled you dry tonight to anchor his bastard's shift. You don't even have the strength to push me away."
"My magic is none of your concern."
"It is when you try to fry my heart with it." Silas leaned closer. "You look exhausted, Luna."
"I will scream," I threatened. "The guards are just down the hall. They will execute you on sight."
"Scream," Silas challenged. He didn't move an inch. "Tell Silas the High Priest's deputy that you just forged the public logs. Explain why you have the Alpha's private compartment open."
I clamped my jaw shut. The muscles in my neck ached from the tension.
Silas released my wrists. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a heavy object. He held it up between us in the dim, flickering light of the corridor.
A gold coin.
"Take a close look," he instructed.
I squinted at the metal. The edges were stained with a thick, oily purple residue. It smelled faintly of rotting lavender and copper.
"A border market token," I noted.
"Tainted with fertility potion," Silas corrected. "A very specific, highly illegal brew used to mask a surrogate's scent during extraction."
"Where did you get this?"
"From the clinic doctor," Silas answered. "The one who handled Selene Croft's procedure five years ago. He took a hefty bribe from your husband to keep his mouth shut and alter the medical records."
"Why do you have it?"
"Because I slit his throat last week," Silas said casually. "And I took it from his safe."
I stared at the black-eyed enforcer. He was a monster. A ruthless killer. And right now, he was the only person telling me the truth.
"Why are you showing me this?" I asked.
Silas stepped closer. The scent of cold pine and winter frost rolled off him, suffocating the damp smell of the archives.
"Because a war is coming, Elara. And you are standing on the wrong side of the battlefield."
"I don't need your help, Vane."
"You need a weapon." He leaned down. His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my freezing skin. "Do you know where your devoted Alpha really was last night?"
I stiffened. "Border patrol. Sector four. He was tracking rogue sightings."
"He was at the Silver Ridge Inn," Silas whispered. "Room 204. With Selene."
My fingernails dug into my own palms. The half-healed cuts from the altar ritual throbbed.
"They were celebrating their son's upcoming shift," Silas continued. His voice wrapped around me, tightening like a vice. "They toasted to your blind loyalty with elven wine. I tracked his scent myself. Pine and vanilla, tangled up in her cheap jasmine perfume."
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't shatter into a million pieces the way a Luna was supposed to when her mate betrayed her.
I reached out and plucked the gold coin from his fingers.
"You have three minutes before the patrol shifts," I told him.
Silas raised an eyebrow. He looked genuinely surprised by my lack of hysterics. "You're taking the bribe money?"
"I am taking the evidence." I slipped the cold metal into my jeans pocket. "The old smuggler's tunnel is behind the wine racks. It leads straight to the backyard."
"Playing nice with the enemy, Luna?"
"I have no Alpha," I said, meeting his pitch-black gaze. "And you are useful to me alive."
Silas chuckled. A low, dangerous sound that echoed off the stone walls.
"Lead the way, Elara."
I turned and walked deeper into the cellar. The shadows swallowed us both. We navigated the narrow, winding corridors in total silence. My mind raced, calculating the angles, the betrayals, the ten years of lies built on my back. I was no longer a wife. I was a soldier behind enemy lines.
We reached the heavy wooden door hidden behind a row of dusty wine barrels.
I pushed the iron latch. The door creaked open, revealing the overgrown brush of the backyard. The midnight wind whipped through the trees, biting through my thin shirt.
Silas stepped out into the night air. He paused, looking back at me over his shoulder.
"Keep that coin hidden," he advised. "If Kaelen finds it, he will kill you to protect his secret."
"Worry about your own neck, Vane."
He smirked, turning toward the perimeter. With one powerful leap, Silas vaulted the high stone wall. His heavy boots hit the dirt on the other side without a single sound. He vanished into the tree line, swallowed by the darkness.
I stood alone in the cold.
The exiled enforcer had just handed me the blade to gut my own mate.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps hammered against the hardwood floors inside the first floor of the main house.
"Elara!"
Kaelen's voice rang out, frantic and loud.
"Where are you?!"
He was searching for me. The panic in his tone sounded so real. So perfectly manufactured to sound like a worried husband.
I gripped the tainted coin inside my pocket. The metal edges bit into my skin.
"Elara!"
The backdoor rattled violently.
I let go of the coin. I forced my hands to relax, smoothing the fabric of my shirt. I arranged my features into a mask of exhausted confusion.
The door flew open.
Kaelen stood in the frame. His chest heaved, his eyes wild as he scanned the dark yard.
"There you are," he breathed, stepping out onto the porch.
He rushed forward, grabbing my shoulders. "What are you doing out here in the cold? I've been looking everywhere."
"I needed air," I lied, keeping my voice utterly devoid of emotion.
"You shouldn't be wandering around alone," Kaelen scolded gently. "Not after the amount of blood you lost at the altar."
He pulled me against his chest. I smelled it instantly.
Beneath the scent of the ritual incense, buried under the sweat of the evening.
Cheap jasmine perfume.
My hand rested over the pocket containing the gold coin.
"Let's go inside," I whispered.
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