CHAPTER TITLE: "Throne of Deception"
Matilda's POV
The soft click of my chamber doors shutting behind me sounded like victory drums in my ears. For the first time in weeks, my chest felt light—no pressure, no ache, no anger swirling like a storm inside me.
Just satisfaction.
I kicked off my heels and let them tumble across the polished floors, my lips curling into a slow, triumphant smile. The wine had been delivered. He drank it. A whole gulp.
I let out a small laugh—quiet, but laced with venomous delight—as I twirled once in the middle of the room. My long silk robe followed the motion like a shadow dancing in the candlelight. My heart was pounding, not with nerves, but with pure, delicious excitement.
> "Two days," I whispered.
That was what the Priestess said before her lips turned pale with fear. "Because of his strong immune system, the elixir will begin to work fully in two days. It will bind him slowly, emotionally… until his soul forgets anyone else but you."
And now she was dead.
I had made sure of that.
The memory sent a strange thrill down my spine. I walked over to my wardrobe, reached inside the inner pocket of my cloak, and pulled out the Priestess's blood-stained pendant.
> "You shouldn't have hesitated," I muttered, running a finger across the smooth gemstone.
The kill had been quick—clean. One bite. My fangs had pierced her neck with ease, and as she choked on her last breath, all she saw was my smile. The same smile I wore now.
> "No one else knows," I whispered, walking toward my mirror.
No witness. No trail. No guilt.
I had cleared all the obstacles between me and the truth. There would be no more nosy priestesses, no more sacred warnings, no more rules. Only me and what I wanted.
> Bryant.
My Bryant.
I stopped in front of the grand mirror, the golden frame catching the flickering light of the candles. My reflection stood tall, proud, wicked—and then, in a blink, her image appeared.
Bea.
Her white eyes stared back at me through the reflection. Her fur shimmered with silver streaks, her sharp fangs exposed slightly as if to smile. My wolf. My partner in crime. My echo in the shadows.
> "Finally," I said to her. "Finally, that Luna's throne will be ours."
Bea tilted her head in agreement.
> "That little girl may have worn the crown," I said, brushing my fingers along the edge of the mirror, "but she never fit in it. She's soft. Weak. A blip in Bryant's story. A moment of lust, not love."
I leaned closer.
> "But me? I've been part of his story since the beginning. And now… I'm going to rewrite the ending."
Bea didn't speak, but I felt her approval ripple through me like a pulse.
Bryant was the strongest Alpha alive. Stubborn. Fierce. Powerful.
But even he wouldn't resist what was coming. Once the elixir settled into his blood, into his thoughts… he would begin to need me. Crave me. Obey me. It wouldn't feel like control—it would feel like fate.
That was the beauty of the elixir. It twisted truth until it felt like destiny.
And when the time was right, I'd take Rosa down so cleanly that even the Moon Goddess wouldn't blink.
> "Two days," I said again, stepping away from the mirror and pouring myself a fresh glass of wine. "And then everything falls into place."
I raised my glass toward the candle flame, watching the red liquid catch the light like blood.
> "To love," I whispered.
And drank.
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