Chapter 9
Bellax POV
The bone china teacup rattled against its saucer as my hands shook, droplets of Earl Grey splattering the pristine tablecloth. The familiar floral pattern – Mother’s prized set, reserved for important conversations – swam before my eyes.
“Say that again.” My voice cracked like thin ice, razor–sharp and brittle. “And choose your words carefully, Mother.”
Aurora flinched, her perfectly manicured fingers smoothing invisible wrinkles from her silk dress. A nervous tick I’d seen a thousand times before, usually when she was about to deliver unwelcome news about Aria. The late afternoon sun streaming through our breakfast room windows caught the silver in her hair, making her look older, more vulnerable.
“The Alliance wants her as a combat instructor for the new training program. Mother’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Your father… he’s already signed the approval papers. He says with the wild wolf attacks increasing-”
“Of course he did.” Bitter laughter bubbled up in my throat. ‘Perfect Aria, precious Olivia’s daughter, coming to save us all again.”
“Bella, sweetie-
“Don’t.” I held up one trembling hand. “Just… don’t.”
Six years. For six years, I’d thought I was finally free of her shadow. Finally had a chance to be more than just the second–best daughter, the replacement child, the one Marcus settled for Jafter his perfect firstborn was gone. Now the precious princess of Silver Moon was returning, and with her, all my carefully constructed security began to crumble.
“Did he even think to consult me?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. “His current heir?‘
Mother’s silence was answer enough.
“I see.” Rising from the table with mechanical precision, I smoothed my own dress – a perfect mirror of my mother’s nervous gesture. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some time to… this development.”
“Bella, wait.” Mother’s voice stopped me at the door. “Try to understand. Your father, he… he misses her.”
process
Those words followed me like poison darts as I retreated to my bedroom sanctuary. Each step up the grand staircase echoed with memories. Father’s proud smile as he watched Aria, a smile I’d spent six years trying to earn for myself.
Standing before my meticulously decorated vanity, I stared at the photograph of Father and me, taken at last year’s Alpha Gathering. My fingers traced the silver frame, lingering on his face. In this picture, he was finally smiling at me the way he used to smile at her – with pride, with love, with hope for the future.
“You can’t have her back,” I whispered to the ghost that seemed to suddenly fill the room. “I won’t let you take this from me. Not again.”
My reflection stared back at me, pale and fierce in the fading afternoon light. I looked so much like my mother in that moment – beautiful, determined, and forever second–best to a dead woman’s memory. Just as I had always been second to Olivia’s daughter.
‘I won’t let her take this from me, I whispered to my reflection. The woman in the mirror looked back with steel in her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the expensive wood of the vanity. “Not again. Never again.”
My hand reached for my phone with practiced grace, muscle memory taking over as I dialed Emma’s number. Sweet, manipulative Emma – my partner in that night’s carefully orchestrated destruction, and the only other person who knew the whole, ugly truth.
The phone rang three times before she answered. ‘Bella?” Her voice held a note of wariness that made my lips curl into a predatory smirk.
“Hello, dear friend.” I kept my voice deliberately light, letting the tension build. ‘Have you heard? Our old friend is making quite the comeback.”
I heard Emma’s sharp intake of breath, followed by the sound of something shattering. “What do you mean?‘ Her voice pitched higher, fear making her forget her usual careful control. “Are you talking about… Aria?”
“The one and only. I moved to my window seat, watching moonlight paint silver patterns across the manicured lawn of the pack house. Mother’s prized roses cast strange shadows, like reaching hands grasping at nothing. ‘Apparently, the Werewolf Alliance has recruited her as a combat instructor. Something about the wild wolf attacks increasing.” A cold laugh escaped me, echoing in the quiet room. “Isn’t it ironic? The she–wolf we drove away is being invited back with open arms.”
The silence on the other end stretched so long I could hear Emma’s uneven breathing, the subtle shuffle of her pacing. When she finally spoke, her voice trembled like autumn leaves before a storm. “Bella… maybe we should just let it go. It’s been six years, and-”
Let it go? I cut her off, anger sharpening my words to razor points. Rising from the window seat, I began to pace, my heels clicking against the hardwood floors in a steady rhythm. “And what happens when she starts asking questions? When she starts remembering details about that night?” I paused for effect, letting my next words land like poisoned arrows. “What do you think Ethan would do if he discovered the truth about his mystery woman?”
Emma’s gasp was audible. ‘He… he can’t know. I’ve worked too hard, gotten too close- Her voice cracked with panic.
“Exactly.” I stopped before my full–length mirror, admiring how the moonlight cast dramatic shadows across my features. “If Aria figures out that she was the one with Ethan that night, everything we’ve built comes crashing down. Your budding romance with Shadow Fang’s heir, my position in Silver Moon – all of it gone in an instant.”
“What…” Emma’s voice strengthened with familiar desperation, the same tone she’d used that night six years ago when we’d sealed our dark pact. “What do you want to do?”
1/2
Chapter 9
A smile spread across my face as I settled into my favorite armchair, running my fingers along the velvet armrests. Come over. We need to plan this carefully.” I glanced at my reflection in the vanity mirror, watching how my eyes gleamed with calculated malice. “If Aria thinks she can just waltz back into our world, we’ll remind her why she left in the first place.”
The moon hung full and bright outside my window, its silver light a mockery of the darkness in my heart. But I’d learned long ago that sometimes the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows. And in those shadows, I would make sure Aria learned once and for all that some wounds never heal.
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