Viya's POV
The snow continued for two days.
At the Natural Healing Clinic, I spent the morning treating a young Beta whose wolf had been dormant since childhood. The work steadied me. Herbs, pressure points, lunar alignment therapy-these were things I understood. Pain could be named. Damage could be traced. Healing required patience and honesty.
Marriage, apparently, required neither.
By evening, I returned to the mansion to prepare for the Blackwood Pack dinner. I chose a pale knitted dress, knee-high boots, and a cloak warm enough for the car ride.
As I reached the door, Miranda appeared behind me.
"Going somewhere?"
"To dinner."
"With Lucius?"
"Yes."
Her smile sharpened. "How touching. The dutiful wife being displayed for the Blackwoods."
I fastened my cloak. "You sound jealous."
"Of you?" She laughed. "Please. I know where Lucius comes when he wants comfort."
"And I know where he goes when he wants to hide."
Her face changed.
"Don't act like you've won because he drives you to one dinner," she said. "If I call him right now, he'll turn the car around."
"Then call him."
She blinked.
I smiled. "Go ahead. Prove it."
For a second, she looked tempted. Then she looked past me through the window, where Lucius's car waited in the driveway.
"You're not as harmless as everyone thinks," she whispered.
"No," I said. "You're just not as clever as you think."
I left her standing there.
Lucius was waiting in the car. He glanced at my legs the moment I sat down.
"You're dressed too lightly."
"I'll be indoors."
"What if you catch a cold?"
"Then I'll take medicine."
He frowned. "You say that like I don't care whether you're sick."
I looked at him. "Do you?"
The question silenced him.
His phone rang before he could answer.
The voice on the other end was loud enough for me to hear. "Alpha, Luna Miranda has gone to the arranged meeting with the potential mate."
Lucius's entire body changed.
His fingers tightened. His jaw locked. His concern for my coat, my health, my cold hands-all vanished.
"Send me the location," he ordered.
After hanging up, he turned to me with a careful expression. "Something urgent came up."
I smiled. "Of course."
"Viya-"
"Pull over."
He hesitated. "I can have the driver take you first."
"And risk Miranda accepting a suitable mate before you stop her?"
His face paled.
I had never spoken so directly before.
"Don't worry," I said softly. "I've spent three years arriving alone. One more dinner won't kill me."
"Viya, that's not fair."
"No. What's not fair is making me sit beside you while you pretend this is about pack business."
The driver stopped.
Lucius opened his mouth, closed it, then stepped out.
I watched him leave.
At Blackwood mansion, the air felt colder than the snow outside.At the main door, the steward Bartell hesitated before leading me inside.
"Luna Viya, perhaps I should inform Lady Margaret that Alpha Lucius was called away."
"She'll ask who called him."
Bartell's expression tightened. He knew. Everyone always knew more than they admitted.
"Then perhaps," he said carefully, "you should say very little tonight."
I looked at him. "I always say very little. It has never saved me."
His eyes softened with pity, and I hated that almost as much as the coming punishment.
Luna Margaret sat at the head of the dining room with Aunt Lily and Aunt Mary beside her. Her eyes moved past me immediately.
"Where is Lucius?"
"He had an urgent matter."
The teacup flew before I finished.
Hot tea splashed across my chest and shoulder. Pain burned through my skin, but I did not cry out.
"You useless girl!" Margaret shouted. "You can't even keep your mate at your side?"
I lowered my eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry is what weak wolves say when they have nothing else to offer." She turned to the steward. "Take her to the kitchen. Ice water. Every dish."
In the kitchen, I washed plates until my hands turned red and numb. The servants avoided my eyes. They had seen this before.
Every time Lucius failed to appear, I paid for it.
When I finally left two hours later, the driver was gone. Of course he was.
The rideshare would only wait at the bottom of the mountain road because of the snow.
I walked.
My knees throbbed. My hands burned. My chest ached where the tea had scalded me.
Halfway down, headlights cut through the snowfall.
A black Bentley slowed.
I recognized the plate.
Caesar.
For one foolish moment, I wanted to hide.
Then the world tilted, and I collapsed into the snow.
Caesar's POV
Leo saw her first.
"Alpha," my driver said sharply. "That's Miss Viya."
I looked through the windshield.
She was walking down the mountain road alone in falling snow, cloak wrapped tight, steps uneven. Every few meters, she paused as if forcing her body to continue.
Marcus, in the passenger seat, went rigid. "That came from the Blackwood mansion."
I said nothing.
Olsen snarled so violently my claws nearly broke through my gloves.
"Alpha," Marcus said carefully, "should we stop?"
"You are eager to interfere in my family matters?"
He shut his mouth.
But when Viya stumbled, even my pride could not keep me still.
"What was Lucius doing tonight?" I asked.
Marcus checked his phone. "Tracking report says he left for a private restaurant near Westbridge. Miranda was there."
Of course.
Viya collapsed before Marcus finished speaking.
I was out of the car before it fully stopped.
She was light in my arms. Too light. Her skin was cold, her hands swollen from ice water exposure, and the front of her dress carried the faint scent of scalded tea.
My vision darkened.
"They punished her," Olsen growled.
I wrapped her in my coat and carried her into the car.
"Suite," I ordered. "Doctor waiting."
Marcus glanced back. "Hospital?"
"No. Too many eyes."
At my presidential suite, the healer treated her burns, bruises, and chilled body. He confirmed what I already knew.
Repeated physical stress. Suppressed wolf response. Trace poison in her system.
I stood by the window, listening to every word as rage settled into something colder.
When the healer left, Marcus remained.
"Alpha," he said, "the herbs in her system match wolfsbane derivatives. Slow-acting. Designed to weaken the inner wolf and interfere with fertility."
The glass in my hand cracked.
"Lucius?"
"Most likely. We're still tracing purchases."
"Trace faster."
"Yes, Alpha."
I looked back at Viya sleeping in the bed. She looked younger without her practiced Luna composure. Younger, and exhausted.
I had thought letting her marry Lucius was noble.
It had only made me absent from her suffering.
When I returned before dawn to check on her, the bed was empty.
Only the ointment jar was gone.
No note.
Of course.
Viya had learned not to wait for rescue.
---
Viya's POV
I woke in Caesar's suite and left before I could weaken.
His scent was everywhere-sandalwood, winter, safety. Once, that scent had meant home. Now it meant danger of a different kind.
If I stayed, I might ask why he had come.
Worse, I might hope he would come again.
So I took the ointment and left.
When I returned to the Wilde mansion, Miranda greeted me in the foyer with a smile that told me Lucius had spent the night soothing her.
"Rough night?" she asked.
"Not as rough as yours will be if you keep blocking my way."
Her smile tightened.
Then she tucked her hair behind her ear, displaying a pair of rare pink diamond earrings.
My breath caught despite myself.
Lucius had promised to buy those for me when they returned to auction.
Miranda saw the reaction and leaned in. "Beautiful, aren't they? Lucius said the color suited me."
I smiled slowly.
"How thoughtful of him."
"I suppose some women inspire gifts."
"And some women forget marriage law."
Her brows drew together.
I pulled out my phone. "Lucius and I are still legally married. If he bought those earrings with marital assets, half the value belongs to me. The auction price was one point two million, yes?"
Miranda's face drained.
"So," I continued, sending my account number, "transfer six hundred thousand by midnight. Or I'll discuss the matter with Luna Beth."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Her phone chimed.
I walked past her.
Later, I packed my wedding dress into a disposal bag.
Lucius entered just as I tied the knot.
His gaze sharpened. "Why is your wedding dress out?"
"I'm throwing it away."
"You cherished that dress."
"I did."
"Then why discard it?"
"It's damaged."
"I can have it repaired."
I looked at him. "Some damaged things can't be fixed."
He flinched as if the words struck him.
But he did not understand.
He never did.
And soon, it would no longer matter.