Chapter 450
The sun had barely passed its peak when the sweet hum of wine-soaked laughter spilled out from the pack house courtyard. Anna, draped in a crimson shawl too fine for the occasion, lounged beneath the awning like a queen displaced from her throne, flanked by Lily, Lisa, and two other girls whose smiles were far too sharp to be friendly and far too eager to please.
“I say we raise a toast,” Anna purred, her voice thick with venomous honey as she lifted her glass. “To Jasmine finally being gone—and hopefully for good this time.”
The girls erupted in delighted giggles, their bracelets clinking like wind chimes as they raised their glasses. The wine in their cups was deep and red, glinting in the light like spilled secrets.
“Do you think she actually ran after him?” Lily asked, her nose wrinkling as she tried—and failed—to stifle a snort. “How desperate can you be?”
“Desperate and stupid,” Anna said with a dramatic sigh, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. “Honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t throw herself at his feet sooner. She always did cling like a leech.”
“She’s pregnant,” one of the girls whispered, voice uncertain.
Anna scoffed. “Probably faked that too. Wouldn’t be the first time a girl tried to trap an Alpha with a story and a swollen belly.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Well, he did choose her—”
Anna rolled her eyes and cut her off with a sharp wave. “Only because he was bewitched. Love spell, charm—call it whatever you want. It was never real. And now? He’s gone, she’s gone. Maybe the Goddess finally answered our prayers.”
Their laughter rose again—cruel, shrill, laced with wine and bitterness. They didn’t notice the way their words carried beyond the hedges, or how their joy curdled the air like spoiled milk.
Just around the corner, Nanny Nia and Fiona were walking by, heading toward the healer’s den with an offering bowl in Nia’s hands. She had been whispering fervent prayers to the Moon Goddess, pleading for Jasmine’s safety, for strength to be sent to the girl who had already lost too much.
But then the laughter hit her.
It cut through her quiet prayers like a knife.
She stopped.
Her fingers clenched around the offering bowl, knuckles whitening. The breath in her chest caught like thorns.
Beside her, Fiona stiffened. Her expression darkened.
Nanny Nia turned slowly toward the courtyard, her steps measured, each one burning with purpose.
“Did I just hear what I think I heard?” Her voice was soft—but it cracked like thunder.
The girls froze, mid-sip and mid-smirk, their faces flashing with surprise and a flicker of unease.
Anna, ever bold, turned with a bored expression. “And what if we are?”
“You’re celebrating Jasmine being gone?” Nia asked, stepping forward. Her tone was calm, but her eyes blazed like wildfire. “Celebrating a woman who might be dead, who is carrying the Alpha’s child?”
“She was never one of us,” Anna said coldly. “You know it. She never belonged here. She came into our pack like a stray, tail tucked, acting like the Moon herself had chosen her.”
“You vile child,” Nanny Nia spat, her voice trembling with fury. “She gave everything for this pack. She gave her heart, her strength, her loyalty—and she is carrying the future of this bloodline. And you, Xaden’s own sister, dare speak like this?”
Anna stood, wine glass dangling from her fingers. “Oh, I have a heart,” she said, voice sharp as a blade. “Just not one that bleeds for traitors.”
“You should watch your words,” Fiona cut in, stepping forward, her voice like a blade sliding from its sheath.
Anna smirked. “Careful, Fiona. You’re starting to sound like you cared about her.”
Fiona’s gaze was steady. “I do care. And I care more about the truth than the venom you spit just to feel important.”
Anna bristled, jaw clenching. “You think you know everything—”
“But I do know this,” Fiona said, voice low, dangerous. “You’re not just jealous of Jasmine. You’re obsessed with tearing her down because you know, deep down, you’ll never be her.”
Gasps echoed around the courtyard, the words landing like punches.
Anna’s face twisted. “She’s gone. And she’s not coming back. Xaden won’t come back for her. He’ll come back and see her for what she really is—”
Fiona’s laugh cut her off. It was soft, pitying. “Do you really think Jasmine’s absence makes you any more worthy in his eyes?”
“She’s nothing,” Anna snapped. “Nothing but a mistake.”
Fiona tilted her head. “Then why are you still so desperate to erase her?”
Silence.
Then, Fiona took a step closer, her voice softening to something almost tender—almost cruel in its clarity. “Do you want to know why Erik will never be your mate, Anna?”
Anna blinked.
Fiona leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because Erik is in love with me.”
The glass slipped from Anna’s fingers.
It shattered, a perfect echo of her composure cracking. Crimson wine spilled across the tiles, creeping like blood across the stone.
The courtyard fell into stunned stillness.
Lisa’s mouth parted in shock. Lily paled. The two nameless girls stepped back, suddenly very interested in anything but the confrontation unraveling before them.
Anna’s voice, when it came, was fragile and thin. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” Fiona said simply. “He loves me. And you can keep telling yourself he doesn’t. But the truth won’t change. There will never be an Erik and Anna. Not as long as I’m breathing.”
Anna’s lips parted to reply, but no words came.
And Fiona didn’t wait.
She turned, took Nanny Nia’s hand in hers, and walked away with the grace of a storm just passing. Nia looked over her shoulder once—just once—and the fire in her eyes promised that the Goddess heard everything.
The girls were left standing in the wreckage of their own cruelty, glass glittering like broken promises at their feet.
Anna didn’t speak.
Couldn’t.
Because for the first time, she realized she wasn’t feared. She wasn’t envied.
She was alone.
And Jasmine… Jasmine still held power.