The silence of the North Suite was broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall. Silas had left hours ago for pack business in the city, but his presence lingered like a heavy, spiced incense.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers trembling as I reached into the hidden lining of my dress. I pulled out the small glass vial of Lunar Manna. The blue syrup shimmered in the afternoon light, looking like liquid sapphires.
"If I find them, I'll consider it a breach of contract."
Silas's threat felt like a cold blade against my throat. I looked at the bitingly bitter tea he had forced me to drink earlier. My stomach was in knots, but for the first time in years, the knot wasn't a dull, heavy ache—it felt like a live wire, sparks of heat jumping through my nerves.
A soft knock came at the door. I scrambled to hide the vial under a pillow just as Mrs. Vance entered with fresh linens.
"The Alpha is in the city. You can stop holding your breath, child," she said, her voice like rust on iron.
"Is he always this... overbearing?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Mrs. Vance began stripping the bed, her movements precise. "He is an Alpha of the Shadow-Crest. He expects his orders to be followed. Especially regarding that tea."
I watched her, my suspicion mounting. "He acts as if my life in Silver-Moon was a prison. He treats my medicine like it's a crime."
Mrs. Vance stopped. She looked at me, her eyes tracking the way I guarded the pillow where the vial was hidden. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say a thousand things, but her jaw tightened, honoring a silent command.
"I am forbidden from speaking to you about the Alpha's intentions," she said stiffly. "But I will tell you this, Seraphina. A wolf's health is measured by the strength of her scent, not the sweetness of her syrup."
"This syrup is the only thing that stops the pain," I argued. "The Silver-Moon healers—"
"The Silver-Moon healers are loyal to the hand that feeds them," she interrupted, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous level. She stepped closer, smelling of lavender and old paper. "If you truly believe that blue 'manna' is saving you, then take it. But if you want to know why your wolf hasn't shifted in twenty years... stop looking at the healers. Go to the library on the third floor. Look for the texts on Suppressive Alchemies."
My heart gave a heavy thud. "Suppressive Alchemies?"
Mrs. Vance turned back to the bed, her face turning into a mask of stone again. "Because the truth doesn't always taste like honey, child. Sometimes, it tastes like the very thing that's killing you."
The door clicked shut, leaving me in a vacuum of silence.
For the first time in my life, I didn't wait for Julian's permission. I waited until the hallway was silent, then I slipped out of the room.
The Shadow-Crest library was a cathedral of knowledge, smelling of leather and ancient secrets. I navigated the towering shelves, my heart hammering, until I found the section Mrs. Vance had whispered about. I pulled down a heavy volume: The Compendium of Forbidden Flora.
I flipped through the pages until I hit a section marked with a faint crease. My breath hitched.
[The Azure Sleep: Refined Wolfsbane Derivative] A sedative syrup often masked with honey. Used to subdue aggressive wolves or, in continuous small doses, to suppress a wolf's spirit entirely. Long-term use prevents shifting, dulls the senses, and creates a 'dud' state where the wolf remains dormant. Warning: Chronic use causes total dependency. Withdrawal symptoms include bone-deep fever and intense pain as the wolf's spirit attempts to re-awaken.
The book nearly fell from my hands.
A sedative. They hadn't been saving me. They had been keeping me a 'dud' so Julian wouldn't have to deal with a real wolf at his side. They had been killing my spirit, drop by drop, for twenty years.
I looked at the blue vial I had brought with me. It wasn't my salvation. It was my cage.
And Silas... he knew. He hadn't bought me to be a servant. He had bought me because he knew I was being kept in a chemical coma.
I didn't pour it out. I crushed the glass vial in the heavy velvet curtains of the library, watching the blue poison soak into the fabric. My stomach twisted—a sharp, agonizing bite that made me gasp.
The fire was starting. My wolf, silent for a decade, let out a tiny, jagged whine in the back of my mind.
I leaned against the bookshelf, sweating despite the chill. The pain was coming. But as I thought of Julian's smug face and the healers' lying smiles, a new heat flared in my chest.
I was going to survive this night. And then, I was going to make them pay.