The Winter King's Venomous Mate

Chapter 3

Lyra

"Lyra. Get back to the altar before the Full Moon Festival begins."

Cedric’s voice crackled through the silver communication badge brought by one of his guards. The lingering pressure of his Alpha command coated the words, attempting to force my submission even from miles away.

I didn't pause. I continued grinding a fresh batch of herbs for Kael’s legs.

The pack guard stood awkwardly at the threshold of the wooden shack, purposely avoiding Kael's gaze. The crippling pressure Kael emitted even while sitting in a wheelchair was enough to make any lesser wolf’s instincts scream in terror.

"The future Alpha demands your immediate return," the guard repeated, shifting his weight nervously. "Lady Elara scraped her wrist. She needs a Healer to treat it."

A scraped wrist?

I paused, the iron shears in my hand glinting in the dim light as I snipped the end of Kael’s fresh bandages.

"The Healer of the Silver Moon Pack died last night," I replied coldly, tossing the scrap of fabric into the fire.

The guard’s face darkened. "Don't make this difficult for us, Lyra. The pack gets restless during the full moon. Lord Cedric's wolf is unstable. You've always been the one to soothe everyone during the festival."

"That was in the past."

Kael looked down at the newly formed pink skin on his legs. The silver poison had been completely drawn out by my blood. He flexed his calves, his deep, resonant voice cutting through the tension in the room.

"Do you want me to accompany you?"

I snapped the wooden lid of the medicine box shut. "No need."

Kael’s gaze drifted slowly up to my chest.

Beneath my shirt, the rotting remnants of the mate bond Cedric and I once shared were wreaking havoc. With the full moon approaching, the severed spiritual tether throbbed relentlessly, pulling and tearing at my insides with every step I took.

Kael reached out, handing me a heavy black cloak lined with dark fur.

"If he touches you, I will come."

I took the cloak, the weight of the fabric grounding me. "Okay."

The sacrificial altar at the center of the pack's territory was packed with wolves.

The moment I stepped into the clearing, the low hum of gossip erupted around me like a swarm of angry bees.

Elara was sitting next to Cedric on the raised stone platform. Her wrist was wrapped in an absurd amount of white gauze, making it look as though she had broken her entire arm rather than suffering a minor scrape.

When she saw me, she immediately shrank back into Cedric’s chest, trembling like a frightened doe.

"Cedric, will Sister blame me for this?" she whimpered loudly enough for the front rows to hear. "I was just in so much pain... I really needed her to come back."

Cedric looked awful. Dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes, and a deep, violent irritability was etched into his brow.

Without my venom-laced blood to act as a suppressive agent, his wolf was tearing itself apart inside him under the pull of the full moon. His once crisp cedar scent had mutated into something pungent and sour.

"Lyra. Come here," he commanded.

I stopped exactly three steps away from the altar.

"Show me the wound."

Elara timidly extended her heavily bandaged arm.

I didn't take it. I crossed my arms under my cloak. "Unwrap it yourself."

She froze.

The surrounding crowd also froze, shocked by my blatant disrespect.

Cedric stood up, his jaw clenched tight enough to c***k his teeth. "When you treated my wounds in the past, you never made me move a muscle."

"You are not her."

"She is my Luna."

"Then you treat her."

That sentence caused the veins at Cedric’s temples to throb violently.

He marched down the stone steps, releasing a suffocating wave of Alpha aura. The surrounding wolves instinctively backed away, whimpering under the pressure.

"Lyra, do you think this little attitude of yours proves you have a spine?" Cedric sneered, stopping just inches from my face.

I calmly tucked my hands deeper into the pockets of my cloak. "I am simply refusing to touch anyone from the Silver Moon Pack."

Elara’s tears began to fall in perfect, crystalline drops.

"Sister, are you blaming the entire pack?" she cried softly. "Everyone has relied on your care in the past. You can't just abandon them all because you're angry with me."

An elderly pack doctor stepped forward from the crowd, glaring at me with deep dissatisfaction. "Lyra, the Full Moon Festival is crucial to the stability of our pack! You don't even have a wolf form. The only reason you were allowed to stay here for all these years is because of our tolerance! It's time for you to repay us."

"Repay you?"

I slowly turned my gaze to the old man.

"The medicinal herbs my mother left behind have been harvested and used by this pack for ten years. Every single formula I created was stripped of my name. Every time a wounded warrior was pulled back from the brink of death, the credit was given to the Alpha’s family to boost their reputation. What else do you want me to repay?"

Cedric’s eyes blazed with fury. "Enough!"

The Alpha aura crashed down again, heavier this time.

A sharp ache shot through my knees, and the torn mate bond in my chest twisted violently, a phantom hand trying to force my body to submit to his will.

The pack watched me.

Some were waiting for me to fall to my knees. Some were waiting for me to beg for forgiveness.

Elara covered her mouth with her good hand, unable to completely hide the malicious excitement dancing in her eyes.

Cedric took another step forward, looming over me. "Kneel. Treat Elara. And then apologize to the pack. Tell them you will stop this childish tantrum."

A metallic taste rose in the back of my throat. Blood. I swallowed it down.

"I resign from my position as the Healer of the Silver Moon Pack."

The entire clearing around the altar went dead silent. You could hear the wind rustling through the pines.

Cedric’s face morphed from anger to absolute disbelief. "You wouldn't dare."

I reached to my waist and unhooked the carved wooden badge. It was the Healer’s mark, passed down to me by my mother.

In front of hundreds of wolves, I walked up the steps and dropped it onto the cold stone of the altar. It landed with a dull clack.

"From today onward, your wounds, your frenzies, your failed shifts, your mate bond backlashes—none of it has anything to do with me."

Elara gasped, her voice shrill before she quickly lowered it to sound pathetic. "Sister, you can't be this selfish!"

"You are the Luna," I said, staring her dead in the eye. "You soothe them."

The color drained from her face. She took a step back.

Cedric suddenly lunged forward, his hand clamping down on my shoulder. His fingers dug in so hard I felt my bones groan under the pressure.

"Do you honestly think the Silver Moon Pack will collapse without you?" he hissed, spittle flying from his lips.

I didn't struggle. I didn't even flinch.

"Whether it collapses or not, you will find out very soon."

His hand slid up from my shoulder, wrapping around my throat. The festering madness of his unstable wolf was overriding whatever was left of his rational mind.

The pack held its breath.

Just as his grip began to tighten, the distinct sound of wooden wheels crushing against stone echoed from the edge of the clearing.

A sudden, overwhelming scent of dark pine swept through the crowd.

In terrifying unison, every single wolf in the vicinity involuntarily lowered their spines.

Cedric’s wolf suddenly let out a whimper of pure, primal terror from deep within his soul. His hand went slack around my throat.

Kael sat in his wheelchair at the edge of the altar, a wool blanket draped over his lap. He wore his old, battered iron mask, but the terrifying pressure rolling off him was undeniable.

His voice was calm, quiet, and absolutely lethal.

"Let her go."