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CHAPTER 9
~Rhiannon's POV~
Rhiannon's Room – East Wing, Velvet Suite
I didn't stop them.
Not when Carla dragged out the boots I hadn't tried on, not when the other maid and guard carried away the black-and-silver gown I'd chosen. I stood still, arms crossed, face calm.
Let them take what they wanted.
It meant nothing.
When they were gone, silence fell like ash. Only the faint sway of the curtains remained, fluttering at the edge of a breeze through the cracked window.
I turned to the stack of worn clothes they'd brought in—threadbare, mismatched, obviously gathered from the forgotten corners of the estate.
Most smelled faintly of dust and old perfume. I crouched and sifted through them carefully. My hands paused over a dark olive tunic, fitted at the waist and still intact. One of the sleeves had a loose thread. I pulled it free and held the fabric up to the light.
My wolf stirred.
"You should've ripped her throat out."
"Not every time you react how scoundrels want you to act."
"Still, she took everything and you just let her."
"Did I?"
"Yes. You stood there. I would never…."
I ignored Ravyn. If my wolf couldn't see the bigger picture, then there was a lot of things she needed to know.
I needed Seraphina to act and look for a way to make her own word and alliance to pull her down later.
Besides, these were just clothes.
I'd worn worse growing up—hand-me-downs from neighbours, boxes of donations that never fit quite right.
Even after Dad got sick, I learned how to make them last. A little patchwork here. A little stitching there. So this? This was nothing.
Still, I felt it—heat crawling under my skin, the slow rise of fury curling behind my ribs like smoke.
"You let her humiliate us," Ravyun added.
"I let her expose herself," I answered silently.
Then I picked the best of the pile, a deep grey blouse that clung comfortably, paired it with fitted pants that—miraculously—weren't torn at the knees, and sat by the sink to wash my old clothes by hand. As the water turned cloudy, I scrubbed until the sting of anger faded with the soap.
Hours passed.
I didn't pace. I didn't stew. I waited.
By mid-noon, the sun had shifted, casting sharp gold light across the tiled floor. I sat on the edge of the bed, still in that same calm, when the knock came.
Three short firm raps clearly not the hesitance of a servant. I stood and crossed the room.
When I opened the door, a guard stood at attention. He didn't bow, but his eyes flickered down, then back to mine. "You've been summoned," he said. "The Council of Elders requests your presence before the Alphas and council members. Prepare yourself."
I didn't hesitate.
I looked down at plain but clean clothes and gave a faint smile. "Sure." He did not say much and, with that, left me alone.
As soon as the door closed, I walked over to the mirror to check myself. I looked…. Unworthy of their title, unworthy of being called their mate.
"It's time, Ravyn. Tiem to use her actiosn against her."
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~Mira's POV~
Council Quarters – Elder Mauris' Study — A Few Hours Ago.
The place didn't look like it belonged to an elder.
No ancient portraits, no dusty scrolls or heavy wooden furniture. Just clean lines, black leather, sleek marble floors, and a wall-sized screen rotating between news and council updates. Mauris lived like a man who didn't care about appearances—just control.
I sat on the edge of the velvet couch, legs crossed, back straight, running through every word I'd just said. My heart wasn't racing. It never did when I was in my element. And right now? I was.
He paced in front of the coffee table, phone pressed to his ear, voice low but urgent.
"She's not just some girl, Edgar," he snapped. "I want the council assembled in person. No delays. Yes—yes, I said today."
He ended the call and turned to me, eyes locking on mine like they always did when he was weighing value.
"You're sure about what you heard?"
I tilted my chin slightly. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. She's not just stirring things up—she's dangerous. I saw the way the Alphas looked at her. She's already got them under her spell."
He didn't respond at first. Just stared. Like he was trying to see if there was more I wasn't saying. I held the silence. Let it stretch.
Then he gave a low exhale—almost a laugh—and stepped closer, only stopping to look at the guard in the living room.
"You can go to Elder Christopher's and make sure he sets the meeting in order for today."
"Yes, sir."
The door clicked shut behind the guard, muffling the outside world, and suddenly, it was only us.
Elder Mauris turned to me, the hard lines of his face softening, though not with kindness, no, it was something else.
That glint in his eyes? Approval. The kind you give to a weapon you've sharpened yourself.
"You've done well, Mira," he said, stepping in close. "Your loyalty to the Alphas and to this pack will not go unrewarded."
I dipped my head just enough to show respect, not submission. "I live to serve the good of the Bloodfang Pack," I said evenly. "And if that means removing a threat like her… I won't hesitate."
He rolled the name off his tongue like a curse. "Rhiannon. A witch hiding in a girl's skin. If we don't act now, the Alphas will be completely under her control."
"Then we act," I said, meeting his gaze. "We free them from her influence before she sinks any deeper."
Mauris reached out and touched my jaw, fingers light but firm. He lingered, like he wanted to see if I'd flinch. I didn't. I never do.
"I trust very few to see the bigger picture," he murmured. "But you… You've always been clever. Loyal. Obedient."
I smiled, just a little. "I know what I want, Elder. And I've never been afraid to earn it."
That made him smile back, pleased and hungry.
"That's what makes you valuable."
He sat down on the leather couch, the one he always gravitated to when he was done being the calculating councilman and ready to enjoy his... perks. Then he patted the space in front of him.
"Come. Let's seal our understanding."
I didn't hesitate.
I rose and stepped forward, slowly and deliberately, my movements like second nature. Power didn't always roar. Sometimes it whispers behind locked doors and wears silk smiles.
I dropped to my knees in front of him, hands resting lightly on his legs, voice low and steady. "For the Alphas," I said. "And for us."
He leaned back with a satisfied look, the kind men like him wore when they thought they were in control.
"Let no one disturb me," he called out.
A muffled voice responded from the hall, "Yes, Elder."
And just like that, the door sealed more than just a room—it locked in a deal.
I smiled to myself, head bowed as I reached for his zipper.
Every move I made was mine—calculated, not desperate or foolish. I wasn't some pawn being used in a bigger game.
I was the one setting the board. And I was already three steps ahead.