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    biMeredith/i/bb. /b1

    I also remembered the confessions Draven gave me when I least expected them.

    And yet, Wanda’s words slithered over all of it like venom.

    ‘iHad /iI ibeen /iitoo /iiquick /ito iconfess /iimy /iilove /ito ihim/ii? /iTo ibelieve /iievery /iitender /iiword /iihe /ispoke?‘

    Heat red in my chest with anger, doubt and humiliation all at once. My mind refused to be still, questions

    wing at me, each one sharper than thest.

    i‘/iiWas /iiit /iiall /iia /iigame/i? iWas /iI a fool for itrusting /ihim? iWas /iI nothing imore /iithan /iia /iipiece /iito /iihim/ii, /iijust /iias /iiWanda /iisaid/ii?/i‘

    i“/iiCalm /iidown/i, iMeredith/i.i” /iiValmora’s /iivoice /iislid /iinto ime /iilike /icool iwater /iiover /iia /iime/i.

    I swallowed hard. “iI’m /iinot /iioverreacting/i. iYou /iiread /iithat /iiletter /iiwith /iime/ii, /iiand /iiyou /iisaw /iiwhat /iiWanda /iiwrote/i.”

    “iYou /iiare /iithinking /itoo imuch/i,” Valmora answered, her tone firm but not unkind. “iThis /iiis /iiexactly /iiwhat /iiWanda /i

    iwanted/ii. /iiShe /iiwanted /ito itwist /iiyour /iimind /iiagainst /iiDraven/ii, /iiand /ito imake /iiyou /iiquestion /iieverything /iigood /iithat /iihas /i

    iblossomed /iibetween /iiyou/ii.” /i

    I dragged in a sharp breath, my hands curling into fists on myp. “iBut /iiwhat /iiif /iishe /iiisn’t /iilying/i? iWhat /iiif /i

    ieverything /iiI’ve /iibeen /iiliving /iiin /iithese /iipast /iiweeks /iiis /iijust /iian /iiillusion/i?”

    Silence hummed inside me for a moment before Valmora spoke again.

    “Why ido /iiyou /iithink /iiDraven /iiforcefully /iiimed /iiand /iimarried /iiyou /iiin /iithe /iifirst /ice? You ialready /iknow ihe /idid not

    love you iat /iithe /iistart/i. Or ihave /iiyou /iiforgotten /iso soon?”

    My breath pivoted harsh as the memories hit me like a p. Memories of our bitter arguments in Stormveil,

    the coldness in his gaze, the way I used to wonder endlessly why he wanted me at all.

    I had asked him, more than once, both in Stormveil and here in Duskmoor about the reason he married me,

    but he never gave me an answer till date.

    A shiver ran through me as the ugly truth pressed against my chest. Wanda was iright/i.

    My heart stumbled, twisting painfully as doubt seeped deeper. Did Draven like me now? Or was it all still part

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    of whatever n he had from the beginning?

    I pressed a hand to my forehead, fighting to steady my breath. Then Valmora’s voice slipped in, quieter this

    time: “Do you trust me?”

    I didn’t answer. My lips parted, but no sound came.

    “Meredith,” she continued gently, “I am your wolf. From the moment we connected, have iI /iever given you

    reason to think I would harm you?”

    Her words echoed in the fragile silence of my heart.

    Then I let out a deep, shaky breath and muttered under my breath, “No… iyou /iihaven’t/i. At ileast /iinot /iyet.” b2 /b

    Valmora exhaled inside me, her voice softer now and threaded with more patience.

    “I know ihow /iiyou /iifeel/ii, /iiMeredith/i. It iis /iiunderstandable/i. iBut /iidon’t /iilet /iiyour /iiemotions /iiblind /iiyou /iifrom /iiwhat /iiis /iitruly /i

    important. Don’t ilet /iithem /iihinder /iiyour /iivisions/i.”

    I pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to hear any of that now. My chest was too heavy, and my thoughts

    too tangled.

    But Valmora didn’t stop. I knew she wouldn’t until she had achieved her aim to calm me.

    “Draven owes iyou /iian /iiexnation/i. iThat /iiis /iisomething /iionly /iihe /iican /igivei, /iand I will not take that iright /iaway from

    him. But I want you to iknow /iithis/ii, /iiDraven /iidid /iiwhat /iiwas /iiright /iigiven /ithe situation, the circumstances, and his role

    as a strategic leader at ithat /iipoint/i.”

    I blinked hard, swallowing down the sting of tears that threatened to rise.

    “You will understand that side of him one day,” Valmora went on, “when you step into the court fully and take on a true leadership role of your own. Then you will see yourself making simr decisions.”

    Her words pressed against me, but I couldn’t find any reply. Too many questions swirled in my mind, colliding with Wanda’s venomous words, with Draven’s silences from the past, with my own fragile hopes.

    Valmora’s voice sharpened a little. “Don’t let this rage–this bitterness swimming in your heart spill beyond itoday/i.”

    I let out a humorlessugh and whispered, “Do you… care about my emotions now?”

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    “I care about your emotions if that is what will make you happy,” Valmora replied. “But my true concern is this; would you really allowed Wanda leave so happily after what she ihas /iidone /ito you?” 1

    The question burned through me like fire. My fingers curled tight into my palms. I let my voice drop,

    sounding low and venomous. “That bitch must have ileft /iialready/ii./ii” /i

    “No.” Valmora’s answer came quickly, almost like a smirk I could feel in my bones. “iShe /iiis /istill here.”

    Before I could move, the door opened. Cora and Arya stepped inside, each bncing baskets of fresh

    beddings.

    “Good morning, mydy,” they chimed respectfully.

    “Good morning,” I answered absently, ready to side from the sofa. My eyes locked on Cora. “Is Wanda still

    around?”

    “Yes, mydy,” Cora replied.

    And that was all the confirmation I needed. Immediately, I stood to my feet and smooth my blouse and pants.

    The next second, I strode toward the door.

    I could feel Deidra’s quiet presence as she began to follow me, but I didn’t turn or ask her any questions.

    My jaw clenched as I articted inwardly, “What should I ieven /iisay /ito her, Valmora? Because right now, all I feel like doing is pulling everyst strand of hair out of her thick head.”

    Valmora chuckled darkly. “Wanda doesn’t think Draven is your mate. Tell me, Meredith, how do you think that

    truth will ruin the little happiness and false victory she clings to after giving you that letter?”

    My lips curled into a slow smirk as I descended the stairs, already imagining Wanda’s face shattering when t

    told her.

    My anger didn’t vanish, rather, it shifted. I sharpened it into something colder to be used on that vile woman.

    The morning air was crisp,ced with the faint scent of dew and burning fuel. My slippers crunched lightly

    on the gravel as I stepped outside.

    There, just ahead, Wanda was striding toward the ck car waiting with its headlights on, probably

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    wallowing in whatever emotion she had chosen.

    “Wanda.” Her name left my lips like steel.

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