The Poison Inside
589 Words
The pack was healing.
But something in the air had shifted.
MaLeeka felt it first — in her skin, in her bones, in the bond.
She stood on the balcony of the Alpha’s den, the wind tugging gently at her curls. Below, warriors trained, new borders were being fortified, and allies sent messages of peace.
But her wolf was… restless.
She gripped the railing.
Seth came up behind her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“You feel it too,” he murmured.
She nodded slowly.
“Something’s watching us.”
⸻
Inside the Packhouse
Jessa walked the halls like nothing had changed.
She greeted the warriors. She served in the infirmary. She bowed when MaLeeka passed. But her smile didn’t touch her eyes.
Behind that smile, she burned.
She had returned from the Whisper Vale with something inside her — a sliver of corrupted magic, stitched beneath her ribs like a second heartbeat. It whispered to her now.
“Soon.”
Every time MaLeeka smiled at Seth, Jessa imagined carving her name into her skin.
Every time the pack bowed to their Luna, Jessa’s hands clenched.
And when no one watched, she poured a black powder into the tea she prepared for the council.
Just a little at a time.
Poison doesn’t need to be fast.
Just sure.
⸻
The Night Vision
That night, MaLeeka dreamed.
She stood in a hall of mirrors — each one showing a version of her: crowned, bloodied, burning. In the center, her reflection shifted.
It wore Jessa’s face.
And her own voice whispered: “Not all battles come from outside.”
She woke with a gasp, sweat pooling between her shoulder blades.
Seth stirred beside her, instantly alert. “What did you see?”
She didn’t answer right away.
Because this time, she wasn’t sure it was magic.
This time, it felt like instinct.
⸻
The Confrontation
Later that day, Seth caught Jessa near the armory.
She stiffened when he approached — a flicker of something sharp in her expression.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said simply.
“I’ve been busy,” she replied. “There’s a lot of work to do since your… Luna was crowned.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that bitterness?”
“I gave everything to this pack,” Jessa snapped, the facade cracking. “I bled beside you. I would’ve died for you. And now I’m expected to bow to someone who walked in out of nowhere with cursed fire in her hands?”
Seth’s voice was cold. “MaLeeka earned her place.”
“She stole mine.”
“You were never mine to begin with,” he said quietly. “We trained. We were friends. But I never chose you.”
That broke something.
He saw it.
And too late—he realized the depth of what he’d just unchained.
⸻
The Closing Threat
That night, MaLeeka stood at the edge of the training field, arms crossed, eyes scanning the pack.
Seth came to her, jaw tight.
“She’s angry.”
“She’s hurting,” MaLeeka corrected. “Which is worse.”
“Should we exile her?”
“No,” MaLeeka said. “We watch her. Close. And we wait.”
“For what?”
She looked out into the trees.
“For her to make the first move.”
⸻
In the shadows of the woods, Jessa met with a stranger draped in fur and fog.
He handed her a blade carved from bone.
She took it without a word.
- Writer
