Bittersweet Lies
1318 Words
Alara Pov
“Why are you pretending to care when you’re the one killing me?”
I opened my eyes slowly, the sound of my own voice echoing in my head.
Pain throbbed in my skull. My bones felt like ice. My throat burned like I’d swallowed fire.
But I was still alive.
Barely.
The sun hadn’t fully risen, but light was leaking through my bedroom window. I didn’t know how long I’d been passed out. I dragged myself up from the floor, clutching the edge of the table to steady my shaking body.
I didn’t die last night.
And that meant I had one more day to find proof.
One more chance to act like I didn’t know Caelum and Isla were plotting to kill me.
Just one more day.
**************************
The great hall of Silvermoon was packed by midday.
Every elder sat in their high-backed chair, dressed in their thick robes, acting like they still carried wisdom in their bones. But all I saw were wolves in sheep’s skin.
Liars.
Thieves.
Murderers.
I stood at the head of the chamber, dressed in black and silver, the traditional Alpha Queen colors. My hands shook behind my back, hidden in the folds of my robe. I couldn’t show weakness. Not here. Not now.
Caelum stood beside me, close enough to smile, but far enough to make sure his touch wasn’t real.
He leaned toward me and whispered, “You’re pale, my love. Perhaps we should delay today’s speech.”
I smiled at him. A slow, tight smile.
“I’m not dead yet,” I said through my teeth.
He chuckled softly and turned back to the elders.
Fake. Everything about him was fake. I could see it now. The mask he wore. The soft touches. The sweet smiles. It was all a lie. A performance for power.
“My Queen,” Elder Myron called, “you asked for this gathering. What would you have us here today?”
I stepped forward. My vision swam a little, but I steadied myself.
“I called you all here,” I began, “to remind you what true leadership looks like. My blood may be a mix of witch and wolf but my spirit is pure Silvermoon. I earned this crown by blood, law, and loyalty.”
Murmurs spread across the room. Some nodded. Others frowned.
“But still,” I continued, voice louder now, “I hear whispers. That I’m too weak. That I can’t lead. So let me prove myself. Test me. Challenge me. See if I fall”
I paused, chest tight. My breath caught.
Everything around me spun like I was underwater.
No. Not now. Please, not now.
I gripped the podium tighter and tried to steady my voice.
“See if I fall, and I will rise stronger”
But before I could finish, my knees buckled.
I didn’t feel myself hit the ground.
Only cold. And voices shouting.
Then, blackness.
*******
I woke up in my chambers again.
Of course.
Lying on the bed like a broken doll, while Caelum sat nearby, pretending to worry.
“You need to stop pushing yourself,” he said softly, brushing a hand over my forehead.
I flinched.
He pulled back like I’d stung him. “I’m just trying to help, Alara.”
I turned my face away from him. “No, you’re trying to hide something. How long are you going to pretend I’m just ‘tired’?”
His jaw clenched. He stood up. “Maybe if you listened to the council, you wouldn’t be falling apart.”
“I wonder what they’d say if they knew their new King is a poisoner,” I whispered.
He stopped in his tracks. His back to me.
“What did you say?”
I sat up slowly. My body screamed in protest. “I heard you last night. You and Isla. In the hallway.”
He turned around, calm now. Too calm.
“Then you already know the truth,” he said simply.
I blinked. “You’re not denying it?”
“What’s the point?” He smiled coldly. “You’ll be dead soon. And no one will believe you anyway.”
My heart slammed in my chest. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Oh, I already have,” he said, and walked out of the room like he owned the world.
**********
I stared at the door after he left.
My hands clenched into fists, weak as they were.
Then my father’s voice echoed in my mind, from long ago:
“Never trust a wolf who speaks too sweet. And never give your heart to the one who benefits from your silence.”
He told me that the night he got sick. His skin pale, his hands shaking. I thought it was just illness, maybe old age.
But now… I wondered.
Was my father poisoned too?
Did Caelum start his betrayal long before I saw it?
The memory burned in my chest.
**********
Night fell fast. I didn’t eat. I didn’t drink.
Instead, I dressed quietly in a dark cloak and slipped out of the back chamber that led to the southern wing of the castle.
I needed proof.
Caelum was bold now, too bold. If he really believed I’d be dead soon, he’d stop hiding his plans.
I followed the corridor that led to the council archives, a place only the Alpha and Beta could access. My father used to take me there when I was younger. I remembered the path.
I crept through the shadowed hallway, keeping low. The guards were posted elsewhere, likely dismissed by Caelum for the night.
I reached the archive door and pressed my hand against the carved wood. Magic recognized me. The door opened.
Inside was a long table covered in scrolls, maps, and sealed letters.
I scanned quickly looking for anything with Caelum’s name or the council’s mark.
And then I found it.
A sealed letter marked with the Council’s Blood Sigil only used in secret decisions.
The title made my blood freeze:
“The Witch Queen Contingency Plan.”
I tore it open.
Inside was a list. Of herbs. Spells. Dosages.
Instructions on how to poison slowly. Hide the symptoms. Disguise the death as illness or stress.
All signed.
All real.
And at the bottom, written in Caelum’s handwriting:
“Once symptoms reach stage four, ensure she collapses in public. Stage a burial. Do not recover your body. Eliminate all personal guards. Prepare Isla for coronation.”
Tears filled my eyes. But not from pain.
From rage.
They planned everything. Down to my public death.
They wanted to erase my name, my story, my bloodline.
But not anymore.
I folded the letter and tucked it into my cloak.
I turned to leave and walked right into Elder Myron.
He stared at me in the dark, eyes wide.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice sharp.
I held the scroll tightly. My mind is racing.
Don’t show fear. Don’t break. Don’t run.
“I was looking for the truth,” I said coldly. “And I found it.”
He reached for the alarm bell on the wall, but I moved fast, shoving him hard with all the strength I had left.
He stumbled, crashed into a shelf, and I sprinted out the door.
My body ached. My head pounded. But I didn’t stop.
I ran.
Out of the archive. Through the garden. Toward the one place they wouldn’t search for me yet was my mother's old cottage on the edge of the forest.
Behind me, I heard the distant sound of a horn.
They knew I had found it.
They are coming for me now.
If I was going to die… it would be on my terms. And before that, I’d drag every last one of them into the fire they built for me.
- Writer
