The scent hit Daemon first.
Bitter. Metallic. Wrong.
He was halfway down the hall when a warrior ran toward him. "Alpha! There's something wrong in your chambers!"
Daemon burst into his quarters, heart pounding — and froze.
On the table by the window, beside his untouched breakfast… was a silver vial.
Uncorked.
The air was thick with the sharp tang of wolfsbane.
In the pack meeting that followed, chaos broke loose.
"She tried to kill him!"
"She's been plotting from the start!"
"She tricked us all!"
Sienna stood in the middle of the great hall, surrounded by angry eyes and accusing voices.
The vial had been found in her room.
The tray had been brought to her by a junior kitchen hand.
Victor played his part well — standing silently in the corner, just out of reach, like a dutiful Beta too shocked to speak.
Daemon watched it unfold, a storm inside him.
He hadn't wanted to believe it… but the evidence was too perfect.
Too clean.
And Sienna — she didn't cry. She didn't scream. She looked at Daemon with calm, steady eyes.
"If you believe I would hurt you," she said, "then let them kill me."
The entire room went still.
"You don't need proof. You don't need truth. You just need fear."
Daemon's chest rose and fell heavily.
He opened his mouth — but couldn't speak.
Sienna turned to the crowd. "Do it. Lock me up again. Blame me. But remember — the real danger hides behind you."
Then she turned and walked back into the cell herself.
She didn't beg.
She didn't look back.
And Daemon felt, for the first time, like he had already lost her.