Chapter 11: The Sister’s Trap
1577 Words
Miriam did not arrive alone.
Hadassah sensed it before the guards announced her—before the torches flickered, before the air in the Alpha hall shifted with something sharp and poisonous.
Her wolf went still.
Danger, it warned.
Hadassah stood beside Eliakim at the raised platform, her posture composed despite the tension coiling tight in her chest. She had dressed deliberately—dark blue, simple, unadorned. Not a Luna’s finery. Not a submissive’s white.
A statement.
The heavy doors creaked open.
Miriam stepped inside as if she owned the place.
She wore pale silver tonight, her hair braided intricately down her back, every movement calculated. At her side stood Abner—but he lingered half a step behind her, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with something close to rage.
The pack murmured.
Miriam smiled.
“Alpha Eliakim,” she said sweetly, dipping into a graceful bow. “Thank you for granting us audience.”
Eliakim’s expression didn’t change.
“You stand in my hall uninvited,” he said coolly. “Speak your purpose.”
Miriam straightened, her gaze flicking briefly toward Hadassah.
“Oh, I believe you already know,” she replied. “We came to resolve… misunderstandings.”
Hadassah felt her wolf bristle.
Misunderstandings, my claws.
Abner finally stepped forward. “The challenge stands,” he said flatly. “But there are matters that must be addressed before blood is spilled.”
Eliakim folded his arms. “You have my attention.”
Miriam inhaled deeply, as if steadying herself.
“I wish to make a formal accusation,” she said.
The hall went silent.
Hadassah’s heart skipped.
“Against Hadassah.”
A sharp murmur rippled through the gathered warriors and elders.
Eliakim’s gaze hardened instantly. “Choose your next words carefully.”
Miriam clasped her hands together, her eyes glistening as if on the verge of tears. “She entered your territory under false pretenses. She manipulated you—used grief and seduction to secure protection and power.”
Hadassah stared at her.
The audacity stole her breath.
“She intends to destabilize this pack,” Miriam continued softly. “And when the time is right, she will abandon it—just as she did her own.”
Hadassah laughed.
It came out sharp and bitter, cutting through the hall like a blade.
“That’s rich,” she said coldly. “Coming from the sister who slept with my mate and wore red to my claiming.”
Miriam’s eyes flashed—but only for a moment.
“That bond was broken,” Miriam said calmly. “By fate itself.”
“No,” Hadassah snapped. “By betrayal.”
Abner shifted uncomfortably.
Eliakim raised a hand.
“Enough,” he said, his voice carrying absolute authority. “You will not slander a wolf under my protection without proof.”
Miriam’s lips curved faintly.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
She turned to the side.
“Bring him in.”
The doors opened again.
This time, a young warrior was dragged forward—his hands bound, his face pale with fear.
Hadassah’s blood ran cold.
She recognized him.
Joram.
One of Eliakim’s scouts.
Miriam faced the hall. “This warrior was captured crossing into Eastern territory three nights ago,” she said. “He carried messages—orders from Hadassah herself.”
Shock rippled through the pack.
Hadassah took a sharp step forward. “That’s a lie.”
Miriam lifted a folded parchment.
“This says otherwise.”
Eliakim didn’t move.
But the air around him darkened.
“Joram,” he said slowly. “Did she give you these orders?”
The young wolf’s lips trembled.
Hadassah stared at him, heart pounding.
“No,” Joram whispered. “I swear it, Alpha. I never—”
Miriam snapped her fingers.
Two Eastern warriors stepped forward.
“We found this seal on him,” one said, holding up a small carved emblem.
Hadassah froze.
It was hers.
Or rather—
It looked like hers.
Her breath came shallow. “That seal was stolen weeks ago.”
Miriam gasped softly. “You see? Always an excuse.”
Eliakim’s gaze flicked to Hadassah—not accusing, but searching.
She met his eyes, steady despite the storm raging inside her.
“I didn’t do this,” she said quietly.
He held her gaze for a long moment.
Then turned back to Miriam.
“You will leave this hall,” he said coldly. “Now.”
Miriam blinked. “Alpha—”
“You have made your accusation,” Eliakim continued. “And failed to convince me.”
Abner stepped forward angrily. “You’re blinded by her.”
Eliakim’s eyes snapped to him.
“Careful,” he warned. “You are still my guest.”
Abner clenched his fists—but said nothing.
Miriam’s smile slowly returned.
“Very well,” she said. “But understand this.”
She turned toward Hadassah.
“The truth always surfaces. And when it does… I won’t be the one begging for mercy.”
She pivoted gracefully and walked out, Abner following in tense silence.
The doors slammed shut.
The hall erupted in voices.
Eliakim raised his hand, silencing them instantly.
“Joram,” he said, turning to the trembling scout. “You will be detained—but unharmed—until I determine the truth.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Joram whispered, relief flooding his face.
The guards escorted him away.
When the hall finally cleared, Hadassah stood very still.
Her knees felt weak.
“That seal,” she whispered. “She planted it.”
“I know,” Eliakim said.
She looked up sharply.
“You do?”
“She wouldn’t have dared otherwise,” he replied grimly. “Miriam doesn’t bluff. She builds traps.”
Hadassah exhaled shakily. “She’s trying to turn your pack against me.”
“And failing,” he said firmly.
She shook her head. “Not yet. Doubt spreads quietly.”
Eliakim stepped closer. “Then we won’t give it time to grow.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We strike first,” he said.
Her heart jolted. “You said this challenge would follow the law.”
“It will,” he replied. “But law does not forbid preparation.”
Hadassah hesitated. “Eliakim… if this escalates—”
“It already has,” he interrupted gently. “And she won’t stop until you’re destroyed.”
His gaze softened slightly.
“I won’t let that happen.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“This is my fault,” she whispered. “I walked into your life carrying chaos.”
Eliakim lifted her chin gently, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“You walked into my territory carrying truth,” he said. “The chaos followed you because others fear losing control.”
Her wolf stirred, aching.
“What if she’s right?” Hadassah asked softly. “What if I am a liability?”
Eliakim didn’t hesitate.
“Then I will bear that liability gladly.”
Something inside her cracked.
She turned away abruptly, blinking back tears.
“I don’t trust easily anymore,” she said hoarsely. “Not after what they did.”
“I know,” Eliakim replied. “And I will not rush you.”
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
Unfinished.
That night, Hadassah dreamed of fire.
Of claws scraping stone.
Of a voice whispering her name—not Abner’s. Not Miriam’s.
Eliakim’s.
She woke with a gasp.
The moon was high.
And her wolf was on edge.
Someone was inside the territory.
She rose quietly, slipping from her chamber.
The corridors were dark.
Too dark.
She barely noticed the shadow until it moved.
“Looking for answers?” a familiar voice whispered.
Hadassah spun.
Miriam stood in the corridor, cloaked in darkness, her smile sharp and triumphant.
“How did you—” Hadassah began.
“The guards were distracted,” Miriam said lightly. “You’d be surprised how easily loyalty bends.”
Hadassah’s pulse thundered.
“You’re trespassing,” she said.
Miriam stepped closer.
“So are you,” she whispered. “In more ways than one.”
Hadassah’s wolf snarled.
“Why are you really here?” Hadassah demanded.
Miriam’s eyes gleamed.
“To offer you a way out.”
Hadassah laughed bitterly. “You tried to ruin me.”
“And failed,” Miriam admitted. “But the war hasn’t begun yet.”
She leaned closer.
“Leave Eliakim,” she whispered. “Disappear. And I’ll convince Abner to withdraw the challenge.”
Hadassah stared at her in disbelief.
“You think I’d trust you?”
Miriam smiled. “No. I think you’re tired.”
The words struck deeper than claws.
“Tired of fighting,” Miriam continued softly. “Tired of being the prize men kill for.”
Hadassah’s chest tightened.
“And if I refuse?” she asked quietly.
Miriam’s smile faded.
“Then the next trap won’t miss.”
Footsteps echoed in the distance.
Miriam stepped back into the shadows.
“Think carefully, sister,” she said softly. “Because next time, I won’t be asking.”
She vanished.
Hadassah stood frozen, heart racing.
Behind her, a low growl sounded.
Eliakim.
He stood at the end of the corridor, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
“How much did you hear?” she asked.
“Enough,” he said grimly.
The bond flared.
War was no longer approaching.
It had already begun.
- Writer
