FOUL PLAY
1201 Words
Loren is dead.
That much is certain.
Her blood still stains the memories of everyone who witnessed her fall. The image of her mangled body, twisted grotesquely among shattered glass, remains etched behind their eyelids—haunting their sleep, clawing through their peace.
But no one is more broken than Tristan.
The man is no different than to a ghost, hollow-eyed and mute. He hasn't left Loren's side since it happened, like a statue carved by grief.
“I—I can still hear her calling me...” he murmurs, over and over, when the guards try to coax him away. But he won’t move. Not even as night turns into day, and day into something colder.
That’s what I heard from the guards.
My execution has been temporarily postponed. Not out of mercy. Not out of doubt. Just...postponed.
The charges still bind me like the silver shackles around my wrists and ankles. I have not seen Noah, nor Cassidy. I imagine they are too busy wearing crowns stained with blood and guilt.
And yet—despite everything—it’s Loren I mourn. What happened to her was monstrous. She didn’t deserve that.
It’s ironic, isn’t it?
That I can grieve for her, while no one even spares me a second thought.
I'm not in a cell. No, they’ve deemed that too kind. I’m tied to a tree like an animal. A rope wraps around my throat, and silver chains bind my limbs—burning into my skin, digging deeper with every breath I take. My wolf cowers within me, unable to rise. No strength. No power. Just pain. Even as a Luna, silver is my ruin.
I am starved. Cold. Filthy. Left to rot beneath the stars.
And then—
“So, you’re here.”
Jane.
Her voice slices through the air like a scalpel. Cold. Clean. Unapologetic.
Her eyes find mine, void of anything maternal.
“You’re not even going to greet your mother?”
I meet her gaze, and I didn’t even flinch. “You’re not my mother.”
The memory of her betrayal still simmers, it was still fresh and raw.
“Oh dear,” she sighs mockingly. “Don’t be like that. You’ll hurt my feelings.”
Then she laughs.
Laughs.
“I nearly brought you food and water,” she coos, crouching down, voice syrup-sweet. “But then I thought—you still look... unbroken. How disappointing.”
My hands curl into a fist. If I had the strength, I would tear her throat out.
“What do you want?” I hiss.
Jane Lockhart never does anything without reason. Every word is a poison wrapped in silk.
“Oh, just checking in, sweetie,” she says, pouting. “I heard a curious rumor. That you may be involved in Loren’s death, too. Or did I hear it wrong?”
My breath caught in my throat.
“What?”
Another charge?
“That’s impossible!” I stammer. “I was there the entire time—everyone saw me at the trial!”
She shrugs, feigning sympathy. “It’s not me you have to convince, darling.”
My fury flares.
“Don’t play with me!” I scream, the sound tearing from my throat.
Her eyes light up, feeding off my rage.
“I’m not playing, Catleya,” she says, her voice lowering to a mock whisper. “But perhaps if you appeal to the right person... Noah might reconsider your sentence.”
I laugh bitterly. “Noah hates me.”
A slow, sinister smile curls on her lips.
“Then maybe it isn’t Noah you should be convincing.”
A chill runs down my spine.
Jane leans in close, her breath brushing across my face.
“Maybe... just maybe... you should consider kneeling to the new Luna.”
I recoil at that thought, disgusted.
“No.”
“To your sister,” she continues. “Cassidy.”
Hell no. I’d rather die.
***
“How the hell did this happen?!” Noah roared, his voice boomed, and it was filled with fury.
Wolves flinched around him as if lightning had struck the hall. The air crackled with tension. Cassidy stood beside him, her hand gently resting on his arm, but even her touch couldn’t calm the storm inside of him.
His wolf thrashed. Wild. Restless.
He was losing control—because deep down, his instincts screamed. Something wasn’t right. Something never was.
But he silenced the voice inside him.
Cassidy is the best option now.
The child may be gone... but she can bear another.
Catleya, on the other hand, is barren. Useless to the future.
“We’re still investigating, Alpha,” said Theodore Lockhart—Cassidy’s brother and one of the top warriors. “But right now, it looks like... the former Luna may be connected. She had the most motive.”
“Motive?” Noah growled.
“Yes. Loren was the one who diagnosed her infertile. She held a grudge.”
A flicker of doubt surfaced in Noah’s expression, but he buried it.
“That was years ago,” he snapped. “Why now? She was at the trial, in full view!”
“We’re digging deeper.”
Then Cassidy chimed in, her voice soft and hesitant. “Maybe... she wasn’t working alone.”
Noah turned to her.
“What are you suggesting?”
Cassidy hesitated—just enough to seem innocent.
“I don’t want to believe it either... but I think there’s someone else. Someone on the inside. Someone is helping her.”
“A mole?” Theodore asked.
Cassidy shook her head, her expression twisted with fear.
“No. A traitor.”
***
Later that night, after the doors closed and Cassidy was alone...
Her mask slipped.
“God, I hate smiling,” she muttered, cracking her neck. “Makes my damn jaw ache.”
Her eyes, once soft and shimmering with feigned innocence, now glinted with malice. Every trace of warmth had already vanished.
“You’ll get used to it,” said Theodore, stepping in from the shadows.
The room was soundproof. Thick-walled. Safe from prying ears.
He sat on the bed, his tension is already easing. “You really are something, Cass.”
Cassidy smirked, sauntering toward him. “Of course I am.”
She climbed into his lap without hesitation. He wasn’t her brother.
He was her lover.
The man behind her throne.
“You’re so f*****g beautiful,” Theo murmured, burying his face into her neck.
Cassidy groaned, arching her back onto him. “Careful, honey. Leave a scent and Noah might start asking questions.”
He didn’t listen. His desire burned through reason. Their wolves—though unmated—were in sync in their hunger. In their darkness.
Their bodies tangled, lost in raw lust and corrupted ambition. There was no remorse. No guilt. Loren was dead. Catleya was shackled like a dog.
Cassidy moaned beneath him.
“Oh, Theo...”
And just as the world melted around them, they didn’t notice the eyes watching from the shadows.
A woman, cloaked in silence, lips curled in disgust.
“...and here I was, thinking you weren’t a b***h,” she whispered.
- Writer
