Chapter 5
529 Words
The banquet hall goes dead silent. I think I must've misheard, but Adrian and Ivy repeat it, their voices sharp and certain.
"Mommy threw it!" Adrian insists.
"Yeah, I saw it clear as day!"
Ivy adds, her sweet pup voice dripping with the cruelest lie.
I try to defend myself.
"I didn't do it. Check the phones—"
"Enough," Charles cuts me off, his voice cold as ice.
"Adrian and Ivy are just cubs—why would they fib? And what reason would Colette have to set you up with something that means so much? You’ve screwed up once too often today, Isabel, and you don’t even care. Time to own what you’ve done."
"Go get the ring. You're not coming back up until you find it."
Charles's word is law—always has been.
Before I can protest, the security wolves grab me, drag me downstairs, and shove me into the pond.
The water's freezing, the bottom choked with weeds and jagged rocks.
My barely healed wounds split open again, pain ripping through me as I tremble.
I don't know how long I'm down there, hands pruning and blood mixing with the water, but I finally find the ring.
Charles snatches it from me without a glance and rushes to Colette.
I collapse on the bank, soaked and battered, closing my eyes as the world spins.
Above me, I hear the pups' voices, small but cutting.
"Brother, Mommy looks so pathetic. You think we went too far?" Ivy whispers.
"Nah," Adrian says.
"Daddy told us to stand by Colette no matter what. We’re just doing what he said."
"Yeah, you’re right. Mommy loves us loads—she’ll bounce back. Let’s go find Colette!" Their voices trail off as they dash away.
Darkness pulls me under.
When I come to, I’m alone in an infirmary cot. Two orderlies are dressing my injuries, chatting as if I’m not even in the room.
"Look at this she-wolf—covered in cuts, burning up with fever, and not a soul checking on her."
"Not like Mrs. Sterling," the other replies.
"Her precious ring got wet, and Charles rents out a whole VIP floor, calls in pack-wide healers to make sure her eyes don't stay puffy. Her pups are angels, too—one feeding her mango slices, the other brushing her hair gently. I swear, my heart melted. Twin pups? That's the good life."
They clam up when they see my eyes open. In the quiet, my phone buzzes. It's a text from Charles.
On discharge day, the driver picks me up. He pulls up outside a high-end lounge.
"Ma'am, Charles is waiting inside."
I don't question it. For years, as his mate, I've tagged along to his endless social events. But when I reach the private room, strange sounds leak through the door.
I think I've got the wrong place, but through the c***k, I see Colette and some strange wolf. He's ripping open his shirt, panting and touching himself, while Colette sits there, cool as you please, mussing her hair and pinching red marks onto her neck.
My gut screams danger, and I turn to bolt.
But I'm too late.
- Writer
