SCRAPS OF DEFIANCE
Freya
“Luna Freya.”
Brin bows when I enter the glass garden of the pack’s conservatory. Sunlight shines on the jars of herbs on the walls. His hand shakes as he sets a steaming cup of the antidote in front of me.
“I’ve traced it,” he says.
My pulse stumbles. “Traced what?”
“The silverdew in your meals. The tea. The bread.” His jaw tightens. “It all comes from one hand in this keep. Mistress Vanya.”
The head housekeeper? She’s the one responsible for setting up the dining table for every meal…
“She’s been slipping the poison into your food for years,” Brin continues. “Just enough to keep your wolf muzzled. On Mistress Izel’s orders.”
My nails dig crescents into my palms, reopening the cuts. All this time, I’d suspected Kade. But I should’ve known it was Izel—the witch who’s glamoured my children to no longer recognise my scent was also the one poisoning me.
Brin leans forward. “Vanya runs the keep. No one questions her. If you strike at her, you strike at Izel.”
I breathe hard, fighting the rage threatening to spill over. Nyx presses against my skin, snarling.
“She tried to erase me,” I whisper. “Now I erase her.”
◆◆◆
The kitchen smells of broth and smoke, fire crackling in the great oven. Servants move fast, knives clatter, ladles stir in humongous pots enough to fill the stomachs of our large pack. The chatter dies the moment I step inside.
Their eyes rise to the sapphire crown I wear on my head and widen in shock and admiration. I see a few of them force themselves to bend their knees.
I ignore all of them and make my way towards Vanya. She stiffens on seeing me. She has run this place for years, and under Izel’s shadow, she has turned every spoon and skillet against me.
“Luna Freya,” she says smoothly, though her black eyes gleam with contempt as she glances at my crown. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“Clearly.” I let my gaze sweep over the rows of omega servants. “But I’ve learned to stop asking permission in my own house.”
A few maids glance at one another. Most stand frozen.
I step closer to Vanya, whispering so only she can hear me, “You’ve carried out Lady Izel’s orders faithfully, haven’t you?”
Her breath catches, but she tilts her chin. “I obey the one the Alpha favors.”
Gasps ripple. The insult hangs heavy.
I let Nyx stir in my chest, my voice carrying steel. “Then hear me now. By Luna’s right, I strip you of your post. Pack law gives me that power, and I wield it. Gather your things. You are dismissed.”
Vanya’s face pales, then flushes red. “You can’t—”
“I can.” I don’t blink. “And I have. Guards.”
Two soldiers step forward, uncertain, but I nod once. Nyx’s power flows through my gaze. Authority sharpens the air. They move to flank her.
Her hands shake as she snatches off her apron, tossing it at my feet. “The pack will not follow a ghost of a Luna.”
“Then let them watch and remember.” I meet every gaze in the room. “I am Freya Vale-Thorne. This is my house. And I will not be poisoned, mocked, or erased.”
Silence stretches. Then one servant kneels. Another follows. Half the room bows. The other half clutches their spoons tighter, eyes hard with Izel’s loyalty.
I turn, and leave the kitchen with my head high, the crown’s weight only giving me strength.
The split has begun.
◆◆◆
Night drapes the keep. I slip into the healer’s chamber where Brin keeps the antidote stores. Shelves line the walls, jars glowing faintly with herbs and tinctures.
I run my hand along the row, whispering, “At least this remains safe.”
The door creaks open suddenly, and I see white silk glide over stone.
Izel.
Her braided red hair glows against her white gown, her smile sharp as glass. “How bold you looked in the kitchen today. A shame you’ve mistaken courage for suicide.”
I stiffen. “You overestimate yourself, Izel.”
She drifts closer, brown eyes gleaming with malice. “Do you think firing one servant changes anything? These walls are mine. The children are mine. And soon, your precious healer’s concoctions will be… mine.”
Her fingers trail across a jar, nails tapping the glass.
I step between her and the shelves. “Touch them, and—”
“You’ll what? Tell Kade?” She laughs, the sound light and cruel. “He will listen to me before he listens to you.”
Her words cut deep, but I hold firm. “The pack saw me take back power today. They’ll remember it.”
“They’ll remember you as desperate.” She leans in, her breath sweet with roses and almond oil. “Enjoy your scraps of defiance, Freya. Soon, your wolf will choke on poison again.”
She slips past me, her skirts whispering like smoke on the stone floor, and disappears into the dark corridor.
I turn to the shelves, heart pounding. A jar is missing. Another lies open, the purple liquid inside darker than it should be.
Nyx growls within me, ‘The antidotes are tainted.’