Chapter 4

The next morning, the door to the chamber opened. The enforcers dragged me out, but I didn't resist or show any signs of pain. I simply followed them. The sunlight outside was harsh. I had to squint for a moment before my eyes adjusted. Cyril stood on the steps, backlit by the light, dressed in a fitted, dark gray formal suit. "Since you didn't die, go back to work." His gaze swept over me and paused, his brow tightening at how filthy I looked. I could tell he was disgusted. A few seconds later, he added, "The Luna's coronation is the day after tomorrow. The altar needs to be cleaned. Elena said you do good work. She specifically asked for you." I lowered my head, hiding the emotions in my eyes. "Alright." The altar stood on the highest cliff in the pack's territory. I knelt on the rough stone, wiping the altar steps inch by inch with a rag. The bruises on my knees hadn't healed yet. When I got on my knees, pain stabbed through them like needles. I stiffened for only a second, then kept going. I knew better than anyone that showing even a hint of pain wouldn't earn me any sympathy. It would only invite more mockery, but that didn't matter anymore. I believed one thing with absolute certainty—what didn't kill me would make me stronger. … By noon, Cyril and Cedric arrived at the altar, flanking Elena as they walked toward me. Elena had changed into an even more elaborate gown, her makeup flawless. The pale, sickly color she had had after coughing up blood was gone. It was now replaced by an unnatural glow. Of course it was. I scoffed. That glow had been fed by the white wolf's blood. "Sylvia." Elena lifted her skirts and stepped in front of me, looking down at me from above. "Why are you on your knees? Get up and hold my crown. My coronation is the day after tomorrow. I want to rehearse." A maid hurried over with a tray. Resting on it was the moonstone crown, the symbol of the pack's power. I stood and took the tray in both hands. The moment I touched it, a faint tremor ran through my fingers. The moonstones seemed to sense my blood, warming slightly beneath my skin. I immediately forced my power back down, lowered my head, and made myself look empty and obedient. Elena lifted the crown and carefully placed it on her head in front of the mirror. "Do I look good?" she asked, turning toward the twins. "You look beautiful." Cyril stepped closer and adjusted a strand of Elena's hair, satisfaction in his eyes. "The healer was right. Those two bags of blood worked. You've never looked better," he said. Cedric lounged against a stone railing, flicking his lighter open and shut. He gave a short laugh. "Of course. That trash Omega may be worthless, but her blood and her scent are priceless. "I almost want to cut her open and see what makes her like this. A nobody without even a wolf, yet carrying something so rare…" They spoke as if I weren't standing just a few steps away. I kept a straight face and pretended not to hear. A worthless Omega? I was just hoping that by the time the ceremony came, their smiles would be gone. The rehearsal dragged on all afternoon. … By dusk, they finally left, satisfied. Only then was I allowed to return to the torn little tent in the Gray Zone. When I passed the furnace beneath the altar, I stopped. It was where the ritual remains were burned. I pulled a smooth and polished wolf-fang charm from the pocket against my skin. To get it, I had stood in an icy river for three days in the dead of winter, dredging up the fossilized fang from the riverbed. Then, I had spent half a month grinding it down with rough sandpaper, day and night, until it was smooth. I had meant to give it to Cyril after that night, along with the knee guards. I wanted him to know that even if I was lowly, even if I could never be his Luna and might one day have to watch him marry another woman, I still wished him happiness. Now, it all felt pathetic. I loosened my grip without expression. The wolf fang dropped into the furnace. Flames surged up and swallowed it. I brushed the ash from my hands and turned away into the night. ... Back in my tent, I didn't even stop for water. I collapsed onto the battered bed. My body was already working to heal itself, but it was draining what little strength I had left. I needed to rest. Half-dazed, I caught the sharp scent of alcohol and blood. The tent flap was yanked open. I jolted awake, and before I could even sit up, a shadow crashed down on me. It was Cedric. He was burning hot, his eyes glowing red in the dark, stripped of all reason. There was nothing in them but chaos and fury. "My head… Damn it…" He growled, gripping my collar and tearing it open.