Chapter 9: His Weakness Was Her Name
982 Words
His Weakness Was Her Name
POV: Elena Clayton
I should have never opened the curtains.
But I did.
From my bedroom window, I saw him—Kade, dressed in black, his shoulders squared, his expression unreadable as he saddled up for a ride. No guards. No fanfare. Just him and that wolfish determination I knew too well.
He only ever looked like that when it was personal.
And I knew exactly where he was going.
“Freya.”
The name slipped through my lips like venom.
I sank back into the velvet armchair by the fire, clutching my wineglass too tight, watching the crimson swirl. The moment I heard she was back—rumors flitting through the pack like moths to a flame—I’d known it was only a matter of time.
But I didn’t expect him to seek her out.
Not so soon.
Not so eagerly.
A surge of heat flushed my cheeks. I flung the glass at the wall. It shattered like the illusion I’d been clinging to—that his heart had grown cold enough to forget her.
The Luna he rejected. The girl he discarded like garbage.
How dare she show her face again?
How dare he look at her like she mattered?
I rose and stalked to the fireplace, grabbing the edge of the mantle with both hands. My reflection in the mirror above stared back at me—beautiful, refined, composed.
And boiling.
Freya was supposed to be dead. I made sure of it when I leaked her exile path to the rogues. She wasn’t supposed to survive the Frostback Wastes, let alone return stronger.
Yet here she was. Like a curse.
And worse… Kade looked relieved to see her.
I couldn’t stand the idea that she might still have a place in his heart. That everything I built—every sacrifice I made, every whisper I fed into his ears—might come undone just because some pathetic omega learned how to hold a sword.
No.
No, I wouldn’t let it happen.
I crossed the room to the antique desk in the corner and opened the secret drawer beneath. A bundle of letters lay inside, tied with a red ribbon. Reports. Spying. Surveillance.
I pulled out the latest one—Steven’s schedule logs. Kade’s assistant was annoyingly loyal, but even he couldn’t hide the shifts in Kade’s behavior.
Private meetings. Sealed envelopes. Territory patrols diverted. Ever since Freya returned.
I paced like a caged animal, my mind racing. I needed to get ahead of this.
If she’d come back with a new pack, she wasn’t just looking to reconnect.
She wanted power.
And if Kade gave it to her—willingly or not—it would be my name erased from Moonstone history.
My marriage to Kade might be over, but my grip on this pack wasn’t. Not yet.
And Freya? She was the one thing I couldn’t predict. She didn't want wealth, didn’t want status. She wanted something far more dangerous:
Justice.
And perhaps… revenge.
A knock at the door jolted me.
I hissed, “Enter.”
The butler stepped in, head bowed. “Madam Elena, Miss Maggie Fisher requests an audience.”
Maggie?
That little bartender friend of Freya’s?
Interesting.
I straightened and smoothed my dress. “Send her in.”
A few moments later, Maggie appeared, arms folded, her chin tilted with that stubborn glare she wore like armor.
She didn’t curtsey. Of course she didn’t.
“Elena,” she said flatly.
“Maggie,” I replied with a purr, circling her like prey. “How... unexpected.”
“Cut the act. You know why I’m here.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re here about Freya.”
“You’ve been sniffing around her since the minute she got back.”
“Well, can you blame me? The once-rejected omega rising from the ashes like some rogue phoenix? It’s quite the story.”
Maggie’s eyes darkened. “You don’t get to rewrite her narrative. She survived what you and Kade did to her.”
I laughed, low and bitter. “Please. Freya was never meant for this world. She was soft. Delusional. The pack would've devoured her.”
“They didn’t get the chance. Because you threw her to the wild first.”
“Don’t be naive, Maggie. Freya may have claws now, but this world doesn't reward scars. It punishes them. And once the novelty of her return wears off, so will Kade’s interest.”
Maggie stepped closer, voice deadly calm. “That’s where you’re wrong. He’s not ‘interested.’ He’s tethered.”
I flinched.
She smirked.
“I see it terrifies you. Good. You should be terrified. Because Freya doesn’t need to dethrone you. She already has your attention. And his.”
With that, she turned and walked out, leaving the scent of truth in her wake.
I stood frozen.
Tethered.
That was the word she used.
It haunted me.
Because despite the power, the status, the years I spent by Kade’s side—I was never tethered to him.
Not the way Freya had been.
That night, I summoned the one person Kade feared almost as much as he hated: Councilman Dorian Blackthorn.
A serpent in human skin. Ruthless. Strategic. And most importantly—ambitious.
When he arrived, I offered him a drink and leaned in close.
“I have a proposition,” I whispered.
He lifted a brow. “I’m listening.”
“We need to remind the pack why we rejected Freya in the first place. And why a Luna like her is dangerous.”
Dorian sipped his wine, smiling. “Scandal? Lies? Violence?”
“All of the above.”
“And what do I get?”
I met his gaze, unflinching. “A seat beside me when we reshape Moonstone Pack.”
His grin spread like poison.
“Let’s ruin a Luna, then.”
- Writer
