7
1614 Words
CELESTE
No one moved until after I’d drained another glass of wine.
I half expected my father to laugh, to call my bluff, to tell me I was still that stubborn little girl who ran away from her duties. But he didn’t.
Instead, he gave a satisfied nod.
“Good,” he said simply, as if we were discussing the weather. “Then sit, Celeste. Eat something.”
The servants, who’d been frozen near the doorway, immediately sprang into motion. One hurried to pull out a chair for me. One of them placed a folded napkin on my lap, and another poured a glass of water. Another placed a steaming plate before me, the smell of roasted meat and spiced potatoes filling the air.
My hands trembled as I reached for the fork, and before I could stop myself, I was devouring everything in front of me. The rich flavors barely registered. My body moved on instinct: eat, breathe, survive.
Every bite I took reminded me that I was still alive, that I had crawled out of the pit they buried me in.
Robb Marshall had taken everything, my heart, my trust, and my dignity. My best friend, Mila, had laughed after stealing what was mine. Jared, the boy I had raised like my own, had looked at me with disgust and betrayed me. They had torn me apart, piece by piece, and yet, here I was, eating at the same table where I once swore I’d never sit again.
Every muscle in my body screamed, but I didn’t stop eating. I couldn’t afford weakness anymore. Weakness had killed the woman I used to be. Now, only vengeance kept me breathing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Knox watching me. He hadn’t touched his plate. He sat there with that unreadable look of his jaw tight, eyes shadowed, fingers tapping once against the table.
My father was saying something about the wedding, but his words blurred together. I only half listened. My focus was on the next step. If power were the currency of this world, I would pay in blood. It was the only reason I said yes.
Power required position, and there was no better position than that of a Luna heir beside a ruthless Alpha. Knox had changed.
The years had hardened him into something dangerous and magnetic. The boy who used to torment me in high school had grown into a man whose silence could command armies. But that didn’t mean I forgave him.
If anything, his quiet patience only made me angrier. Because every inch of him reminded me of power, the same kind that destroyed everything I ever loved.
Robb had power. He used it to break me.
My father had power. He used it to control me and now Knox Morrison sat across from me, wearing his power like a second skin. I didn’t care how calm or gentle his voice sounded now; I knew better. He was no savior. None of them were.
He was still watching me. I stabbed another piece of meat with my fork and glared at him. “What? Not hungry?”
His lips twitched. “Just making sure you don’t choke.”
“I’m fine,” I said flatly.
“I can see that,” he replied, leaning back in his chair, his tone maddeningly calm. “You eat like someone ready for war.”
“Maybe I am,” I growled.
The corner of his mouth curved slightly. “Then remind me never to be on your bad side.”
“Too late.”
That shut him up. My father, meanwhile, was in his element, giving orders, summoning attendants, and making.
I swallowed a mouthful of food and looked up. “You should smile, Alpha. Your dream’s finally coming true.”
His eyes flickered once, a tiny twitch in the corner. “You think this is my dream?”
I stabbed a piece of meat with my fork. “Isn’t it? You get the girl, the alliance, the title and my father’s approval. Everything you always wanted.”
“Careful,” he murmured, leaning forward slightly. “You’re talking like you know me.”
I forced a laugh. “Oh, I know enough. You’re still the same control-obsessed bastard who thinks every woman should kneel when you walk by.”
“Celeste,” my father interjected, a warning in his tone.
But I didn’t care. I wanted Robb to choke on his own arrogance. I wanted Jared, his precious son, to feel what it was like to beg for mercy and Mila… Goddess, Mila. My dearest friend, my sister in all but blood.
She was the one who handed me that drink. She was the one who smiled while I swallowed death. I was alive, and that meant they would all pay. Every single one of them and if I had to marry a monster to do it, then so be it.
My father’s voice broke the silence again. “Since you’ve agreed, I’ll make the announcement at dawn. The Dark Vine Pack deserves to know their heir has returned.”
I didn’t look up. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”
He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that meant deal struck, game on. “And the wedding ”
“Will happen when I’m ready,” I cut in.
His brows lifted. “You’re not in a position to dictate terms, Celeste.”
I met his gaze coolly. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have given me the choice.”
He said nothing after that, only poured himself another glass of wine and took a slow sip.
I knew that look. He was amused. Impressed, even. It disgusted me.
I caught Knox’s gaze again and froze.
He was still staring at me with a furrowed brow.
“You need to rest,” he said finally.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t pretend to care.”
“I’m not pretending. You look pale.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “I’ve been poisoned, nearly killed, dragged back to the pack I swore to forget, and coerced into marrying my childhood nemesis. Forgive me if I’m not glowing.”
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “You are not yet back to full health.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Clearly,” he muttered.
I glared. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” he said smoothly, though his eyes said otherwise.
I hated that voice. That infuriating calm. He was the kind of man who could make chaos sound like reason. And I hated that some small, buried part of me still recognized the faint hum of our bond, the mate pull I wanted so desperately to kill.
“Relax, Alpha,” I said with a mocking smile, pushing my plate away and standing up. “I’m not going to drop dead on your watch.”
But the words had barely left my lips before the room tilted.
The walls seemed to sway, the chandelier above me doubling in my vision. My fork clattered against the plate. I blinked, trying to focus, but the colors around me bled together.
No. Not now.
My father’s voice echoed, distant. “Celeste?”
But before I could answer, Knox was on his feet.
He reached me in two strides, catching me just as my knees buckled. His hands were warm, solid, anchoring me against the dizzy haze.
“Easy,” he said, his voice a rough whisper near my ear. “You’ve been through too much.”
I wanted to shove him away, to spit something cruel and sharp, but the words wouldn’t come. My body betrayed me.
The scent of him wrapped around me in a familiar yet disorienting manner. I hated it. I hated that it calmed me.
“Let go,” I managed to whisper, though it came out more like a plea than a command.
He didn’t.
“You stood outside too long,” he murmured, brushing damp hair from my face. “You’re freezing.”
“Don’t touch me,” I breathed.
But he did. His thumb grazed my cheekbone in a gesture so gentle it almost hurt. “You’re burning up.”
My vision flickered again. I tried to push him away, but the strength was gone from my limbs.
“I don’t need your help,” I whispered.
“I think you do.”
I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a weak laugh. “If you think I’m thanking you for this ”
“I’m not asking for thanks,” he said. “Just don’t pass out on me again.”
The warmth in his tone was unbearable. The room blurred. My body leaned into him despite every ounce of resistance I had left.
Somewhere behind us, I heard my father bark something about calling a doctor, about preparing a room. The servants moved fast. Dishes clattered.
But all I could see was Knox.
The way his eyes softened for half a second before he masked it again. The way his breath hitched as he held me tighter, as if afraid I’d disappear.
I hated it. I hated him. But worse, I hated the part of me that didn’t. Darkness pulled at the corners of my vision. I let it take me this time.
And just before everything went black, I felt his hand on my back, his voice low and rough against my skin.
“You’ll be alright, Celeste,” he whispered.
It sounded almost like a promise. But I’d stopped believing in those a long time ago.
- Writer
