Chapter 3
The cup slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering against the marble floor as liquid fire coursed through my veins. The wolfsbane hit my system like a sledgehammer, and I felt my wolf retreat so deep into my consciousness that her presence became barely a whisper.
"No," I gasped, doubling over as the first wave of convulsions seized my body. The cramping in my belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and I could feel our pup's frantic movements as the poison reached them too. "What have you done?"
Delilah's laughter rang out over the horrified gasps of the other she-wolves. "Oh, this is perfect," she announced to her phone camera, which she held steady despite the chaos erupting around us. "Look at her now, everyone. The great Elizabeth Jensen, reduced to what she really is—a fraud collapsing under the weight of her own lies."
"Someone call a healer!" Elder Margaret's voice cut through the panic as I collapsed to my knees, my vision blurring at the edges. The sacred ceremonial space spun around me, crystal chandeliers becoming streaks of light as my body betrayed me.
My legal mind, even through the agony, catalogued every detail with ruthless precision. The tea service—evidence. The livestream—witnesses. Delilah's admission of intent—confession. If I survived this, she would pay for every second of my suffering.
"She's bleeding!" someone screamed, and I looked down to see crimson staining my emerald gown. Terror like I'd never known flooded through me as I realized what was happening. The wolfsbane wasn't just attacking me—it was threatening our pup.
"Help me," I whispered, reaching out toward the horrified she-wolves who backed away from me as if I carried a plague. My wolf tried to sing our usual lullaby to comfort the baby, but her voice was so weak I could barely hear it.
Delilah continued filming, her face alight with malicious triumph. "This is what happens when unworthy she-wolves try to claim blessings they don't deserve. The Moon Goddess herself is rejecting this illegitimate pregnancy."
"Stop filming and help her!" Elder Margaret commanded, but Delilah simply laughed.
"Why would I help a lying gold digger? This is justice."
Another convulsion wracked my body, and I felt consciousness slipping away. But even as darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, my wolf managed one last desperate howl—not audible to human ears, but a psychic cry that would reach every member of our pack.
*Help us,* she pleaded into the pack mind-link with the last of her strength. *Save our pup.*
The last thing I saw before the world went black was Delilah's satisfied smile as she continued broadcasting my collapse to her audience, her voice bright with false concern as she spun her narrative of my "deserved" downfall.
Then the world exploded.
Even unconscious, I felt them arrive—two Alpha auras so powerful they sent shockwaves through the entire resort. The combined presence of my father and brother hit the ceremonial space like a supernatural tsunami, and I dimly heard screams as every wolf present was forced into immediate submission.
Through my fading consciousness, I felt Jeremiah's hands lifting me with infinite care, his wolf's anguished howl reverberating through the pack bond. His scent wrapped around me—pine and winter storms and something darker, more possessive than brotherly concern should warrant.
"What did you do to her?" His voice carried the promise of death, and even in my poisoned state, I shivered at the barely leashed violence in his tone.
My father's Alpha command rang out like thunder: "Everyone on the ground. Now."
The sound of bodies hitting marble filled the air as every non-Alpha present was forced to submit. Through the pack bond, I felt their combined fury—a rage so intense it made the resort's foundations tremble.
"The blonde one," I managed to whisper against Jeremiah's chest as he carried me toward the exit. "She... she poisoned me. Wolfsbane. The baby..."
Jeremiah's growl was inhuman, and I felt his wolf pressing against his human form, desperate for blood. "She's going to pay for this," he promised, his voice rough with barely contained violence. "I'll tear her apart with my bare hands."
As we rushed toward the Silvermoon Pack hospital, I drifted in and out of consciousness, my wolf's weak lullabies the only thing keeping me tethered to hope. Our pup was still fighting, still moving, but I could feel their distress through our bond.
*Hold on,* I begged silently. *Mama's going to fix this. We're going to survive, and then we're going to make them all pay.*
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