The palace was alive with subtle tension. Even as Kael Draven walked through the corridors, amber eyes sharp and alert, he could feel the shift in the air. Servants whispered under their breath, concubines stole furtive glances, and the weight of Lyria's pregnancy subtly altered the balance of power.
In a secluded wing, Iolde moved silently, her silk skirts brushing the floor as she approached a private chamber. Tonight, she would meet the man arranged for her by her father—a man chosen not for love, but for alliance. Her lips curved in a self-satisfied smile, certain of the advantage she believed she still held over the Alpha and the pack.
"Iolde," the man murmured as she entered, his hand brushing against hers in a practiced gesture of intimacy. The room was dimly lit, the golden glow of the lanterns casting flickering shadows on the walls.
Unbeknownst to her, Selena—Serina's maid—had been quietly tracking Lyria's movements earlier that day. Seeing the opportunity, she lingered in a nearby corridor, hidden from sight. Her sharp eyes caught every movement, every gesture. The knowledge she now possessed was a weapon, and she intended to wield it carefully.
As Iolde laughed softly, leaning close to the man, Selena retreated silently, already forming her plan. She would bring this to Serina, and together they would craft a threat potent enough to shake Iolde's confidence—and perhaps sway the Alpha's attention.
Meanwhile, Lyria tended to the herb garden in the moonlight, her mind momentarily at peace. She did not yet know the full depth of the witch's awareness, nor the danger that Serina and Selena were preparing to unleash. Her growing instincts, however, told her that the threads around her were tightening, drawing her closer to both peril and destiny.
Back in the corridors, Kael's presence was felt even without words. His wolf stirred restlessly beneath his skin, sensing disturbances, subtle ripples in the pack's energy. Something was amiss. He did not know precisely what, but his instincts had never failed him.
In the private chamber, Iolde whispered, "Soon, my position will be unchallenged. The Alpha cannot resist his duties, but the pack…" Her voice trailed off as the thought of the maid—Selena—lingering unseen and watching crossed her mind.
Selena returned to Serina, reporting every detail with calculated precision. "Mistress," she said quietly, "I have seen Iolde with the man arranged by her father. Alone. Tonight."
Serina's dark eyes sparkled with satisfaction. "Excellent. This knowledge will serve us. She believes she is untouchable, but now we hold a thread that can unravel her carefully laid plans."
High above, Kael paused on the balcony, amber eyes sweeping the gardens and corridors. Somewhere, he sensed a disturbance—subtle, deliberate. His wolf tensed, instinctively protective. He did not yet know the full scope, but he knew the pieces were moving, and the game was escalating.
Lyria, unaware of the scheming, felt a strange warmth within, a small, undeniable stir that reminded her of the life growing inside her. She pressed a hand to her abdomen, heart skipping. Something was changing—not just in her body, but in the energy around the palace.