Chapter 6

Seraphina's POV

Turning the plan over in my mind, I followed Roderick into the chamber where Calla lay recovering in the Healing Hall.

On the cot, Calla's cheeks were flushed and warm, no trace of the blood loss she'd supposedly suffered. Even her scent betrayed her, that sweet jasmine curdling over decay, untouched by any real weakness.

She curled her arm around Roderick's hand and smiled sweetly at me. "Seraphina, I really must thank you for giving me your blood. If it weren't for you, I might not have been able to keep the pup. If that had happened, I would have let Roderick down."

Expressionless, I lowered my head and gave her a curt apology, my gaze dropping the way a wolf's does before one it cannot yet challenge.

Her eyes glimmered with a fleeting triumph before she softened her gaze, looking at me with a mock pity.

"Your daughter's dead now, yet you were still willing to give me blood. You really are… such a good person."

Her words froze me in place. My eyes widened in disbelief. "What nonsense are you talking about? Didn't Roderick say my daughter was still with the healers?!"

She feigned surprise, covering her mouth delicately.

"Oh? Roderick, you didn't tell her?" She gave me an apologetic look, though her voice carried a cruel lilt. "I'm so sorry… but your daughter really is dead. They've already taken her body to the cold room."

She shot me a deliberately provoking glance.

My mind went white. Somewhere deep inside me, my wolf threw back her head in a soundless howl. Without another thought, I lunged forward and clamped my hands around her throat.

Her face instantly twisted in fear.

In the next moment, Roderick yanked me backward and hurled me across the room.

My head slammed hard against the corner of the wall, and in an instant, blood trickled down my face.

But the pain barely registered. I staggered to my feet and rushed at her again, desperate for her to explain herself clearly.

Roderick pinned me down with a grip like iron, his expression glacial. The weight of his Alpha aura pressed down on me like a cold tide, the air itself thickening. "How dare you lay a hand on Calla in front of me!"

"I've already apologized to her!" My voice cracked with fury. "I just want to see my daughter!"

"You killed my son, and now you want to kill my daughter?" My throat burned as I shouted at them both. "I swear, Roderick, you and Calla will get what you deserve!"

Something flickered in his eyes, panic, but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a deep frown and cold contempt.

"You really have gone mad. You were the one who lost our son. And your daughter's fine. Calla was only teasing you. Can't you be reasonable for once?"

I wanted to scream until my voice tore apart. I wanted to destroy the two of them standing before me. Beneath my skin my wolf surged, hackles rising, every instinct in her clawing toward their throats.

But then, a thick needle jabbed into the back of my neck. Wolfsbane. I felt it the instant it spread, cold and creeping.

The strength drained from my body, and I collapsed to the floor.

When I opened my eyes again, Roderick was sitting by the cot. His scent hung in the room, scorched cedar and cold iron, and that faint rot beneath it I had only lately learned to name. My voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

"Roderick… I'll give you and Calla my blessing, if you give me back my daughter."

He stiffened at my words.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice heavy. "Wrenna… She didn't make it. The healers tried everything. She's… gone."

My eyes slowly widened as his words sank in.

A laugh burst from me, sharp and hollow, filling the chamber with its echo. It was laughter steeped in pain. Inside me, my wolf went utterly still, the way an animal stills when the wound is too deep to feel yet.

Tears streamed freely down my face as I looked at him, my gaze brimming with hatred.

"I don't believe my daughter is dead! Bring her back to me, Roderick! Or I swear, I won't spare Calla or that bastard pup of hers!"

His expression hardened. "What do you think you're going to do to them? You already took Calla, and the two you whelped are the real bastards! They're innocent!"

I no longer argued with him over the pups' bloodline. My voice was low, cold, and unshakable.

"She's not innocent! If she is truly dead… I will make sure they are buried with her!"

Roderick's chest rose and fell sharply, his eyes widening in disbelief as if he couldn't fathom I would say such a thing.

At that moment, Calla strode in from the doorway and, without warning, she slapped me hard across the face.