bChapter /bb76 /b

bSomewhere /bdeep bwithin /bthe pceb, /bwhite panic and chaos w through the halls over a dying girl, Lady Celestia twirls in ce bbehind /bbgold/b–lined walls and bsatin /bbcurtains/b. bShe /bmoves like a giddy child ying queen in a dollhouse, her silken robe cascading over her shoulders like a crown bof /bits own.

bAs /bbshe /bhums and glides across the room, she trails her fingers along the ss surface of her vanity, lips curled into a wicked smile. The mes in bthe /b

firece flicker and dance, casting shadows that make her look more devil than

b“/bThere’s bno /bfucking way she survived it,” Celestia says aloud, her voice practically skipping with glee. “Not after my father’s de pierced her bheart/bb. /bbIt’s /bthe deadliest weapon in existence for a reason.”

Her grin stretches wider, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

She saunters to her private wine shelf–home to the kingdom’s most prized and expensive collection. From it, she selects ba /bcrystal bottle dusted in bgold/bb, /bba /brare vintage reserved for coronations or victories in battle.

Well, this counts.

She pops the cork, pours herself a generous ss, and lifts it high in the air, as though toasting death itself.

“To the bitch’s funeral,” she whispers, clinking her ss against the bottle before taking a long, indulgent sip. Her eyes flutter closed in satisfaction. “Before it even begins.”

Opening her eyes, her gaze drifts across the room andnds on therge, ornate gift boxes stacked neatly on her dresser. She strolls over, her heels clicking against the marble floor, anticipation curling in her toes.

“I wonder if her head will fit,” she murmurs sweetly, brushing a finger over the ribbon of one boxb. /b“Or maybe I’ll put the heart in this one… and Jack can receive it as a wedding gift.”

She giggles–soft and girlish–so at odds with the darkness of her words.

“Jack won’t do anything, even if he finds out,” she says with a shrug. “I’m the Alpha King’s only heir. He wouldn’t darey a finger on me. He knows the consequences.”

She spins slowly, lifting her ss again as she basks in her fantasy.

“Today… is the happiest day of my lifei,/ii” /ishe sighs dreamily. “Finally, Jack will be mine now that his little bitch is gone. Whether he wants it or not.”

A flicker of something darker passes over her face.

“Thanks to Uncle Malrik,” she adds, voice dipping to a near–reverent tone.

Even speaking his name sends a chill down her spine–half fear, half devotion.

Uncle Malrik, who is also Jack’s uncle. There’s a hatred between them that Celestia has never fully understood. She remembers the story–how bJack/b, even as ba /bchild, shattered Malrik’s leg in ba /bbfit /bof rage. Malrik still walks with a limp, a twisted cane always in hand.

Celestia often wonders why he supports her so fiercely in marrying Jack, despite iJ /isomething deeper… and darker.

open loathing for him. Perhaps it’s about power. bOr /bcontrol. Or

She chuckles to herself bas /bher eyes drift to the window, moonlight pouring in like an omen.

“Poor little Kali,b” /bshe murmurs, swirling the wine in her ss. “Did you reall

think bfate /bwould be on your sideb?/bb” /b

Her smile falters slightly as an old memory surfaces–half–buriedb, /bhalf–haunting.

bShe /bhad been just ba /bchild then. Wandering. Empty. No name. No family. No past.

b1/4 /b

bUntil /bhe found her.

bUntil /bUncle Malrik brought her home and whispered the truth.

b“/bYou’re royalty, child,” he said in that deep, dangerous voice. “You were lost. But now you’re found. You belong to greatness.”

From that moment, her loyalty belonged to him. Not to the crown. Not to her father. To him.

He had returned her to the Alpha King. He taught her how to manipte. How to scheme. How to survive.

And it is he who promises her Jack–no matter the cost.

A dark spell. A dangerous one. And the requirement is simple: Kali must die. Celestia delivers.

She owes Malrik everything. That’s why she keeps his secrets, serves his will, and helps him climb the pce walls–embedding himself beside the King as the royal messenger.

But he is far more than ba /bmessenger.

He bis /bba /bshadow that never leaves.

Celestia closes her eyes again, savoring the burn of the wine on her tongue, the crackling fire behind her, and the intoxicating weight of her own victory—

Click.

The door creaks open.

Her smirk deepens, though she doesn’t turn around.

“I knew you’de to your senses, Father,” she purrs, lifting her ss. “Locking me up for her? For that little rat who means nothing-”

She freezes mid–sentence.

Her spine stiffens.

That scent. That presence. That aura.

It isn’t her father.

Slowly, she turns.

Standing in the doorway, cloaked in ck robes, a cane clutched tightly in one hand, is Uncle Malrik.

A messenger of death.

The mes behind her seem to dim in his presence. His silhouette looms tall and sharp, half his face hidden beneath the curve of his hood.

He steps inside slowly, his limp dragging behind him like a second shadow.

Celestia’s lips part. For orice, she forgets to smile.

“…Uncleb?/bb” /bshe breathes, her voice trembling slightly. The ss in her hand quivers.

Malrik doesn’t answer.

bHe /bcloses the door behind him with a soft clickb–/bba /bsound that echoes like the sealing of ba /btomb.

bNo /bsmile.

b2/4 /b

b16:08 /bSat b28 /bJuns

bChapter /bb76 /b

bNo /bbwarmth/b.

bJust /bthe cold, merciless gleam in his eyes.

He is her partner in crime.

Her maker.

Her monster.

And he never appears without reason.

Which can only mean one thing: Something is very, very wrong.

His eyes sweep the room–over the wine, over the boxes, over her fading smirk.

Suddenly, the fire doesn’t feel so warm.

Celestia swallows hard. She holds her ground but keeps the wine ss in hand. Her expression remainsposed, but her knuckles whiten around the

stem.

“You shouldn’t celebrate yet,” Malrik says atst, his voice heavy and cold. It carries the weight bof /bmand–a tone that always unsettles her, especially since, technically, she holds power over him as the Alpha King’s daughter. “Not until you hear and confirm that she’s truly dead.”

Celestia forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“She is dead,” she says sharply, then tries to soften her tone with a light chuckle. I killed her myself. I made sure of it before I left. She didn’t even have the strength to breathe when I walked away. She’s gone.”

Malrik steps further into the room, his presence swallowing the light as he moves. His cold eyes scan her face.

“And how did you get in?” she asks, unable to mask her irritation this time.

“You forget who I am, girl,” he murmurs, almost amused. “Locked doors and dumb guards don’t stop me.”

Celestia lifts her chin. “Father had them lock me in like some criminal–on my birthday, no less.” She snorts. “As if I’d feel guilt for killing that pathetic

girl.”

Malrik’s eyes darken.

“You fool,” he hisses, his voice low but dripping with venom. “You weren’t supposed to kill her yourself.”

She frowns, her voice rising. “I did what had to be done! n A failed. Father hesitated. I had to move fast. He was too weak to do it, Malrik! He looked at that kali like–like she was everything to him! He wouldn’t lift a finger even when I-” sheughs bitterly, “even when I threatened to kill myself right in front of him. He was possessed by her. Obsessed. That’s when I knew–I had to do it. I couldn’t miss the only opportunity.”

“You ruined everything,” Malrik snaps.

His voice cracks like ba /bwhip. Celestia flinches.

“The n was for him to spill her blood. To make it look like justice. A royal decree. Not a jealous daughter acting out of rage. You’ve destroyed everything.”

Celestia res at him. “You’re just ba /bmessenger. Why do you talk to me like I’m your servant?”

b“/bYou are,” Malrik growls.

“I’m the Alpha King’s daughter, and I won’t keep tolerating your-b” /b

b3/4 /b

bCrack/bb! /b

bHis /bbcane /bstrikes bthe /bside of her head.

The ss slips from her hand and shatters on the floor. She stumbles back, clutching her temple as blood trickles down her face.

b“/bWatch your mouth.” he growls, towering over her. “Don’t forget–I brought you here. I made you the Alpha King’s daughter. I could’ve tossed you into the filth and sold you off to a rogue den. I could’ve made you an omega’s whore.”

Célestia breathes hard, eyes wide with disbelief. “Stop… stop talking like you did me a favor. You only returned me because I am his daughter. Because you had something to gain.”

Malrik leans down slowly, his lips curling into a cruel smile.

“You really believe that, do you?” he whispers. “That you share his blood?”

Her knees go weak.

“What… what are you saying?” she stammers, her voice suddenly small. Fragile.

Malrik straightens again and turns away, his tone colder than ice. “If you want to keep your ce, your crown, your little future with Jack… then never make a move without my word again.”

Her voice trembles now. “What do I have to do?”

He stops at the broken ss on the floor and taps it gently with his cane.

“There’s a nei,/ii” /ihe says slowly. “Buried within Alpha Jack’s house. In Blood Fang Pack.”

“A ne?” she repeats.

“It belonged to her–the true Alpha Queen. Your so–called mother. With that ne, you can convince the world that you’re her daughter. That you belong to this family. That the Alpha King didn’t make a mistake by epting you… whether you’re blood or not.”

He turns to her, eyes gleaming like the Devil himself.

“Without it… your little fairy tale ends. And everyone will know you’re nothing but a stray pup pretending to wear a crown.b” /b