Chapter 41: Poison Served Cold

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Poison Served Cold “I heard it myself,” one servant whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “He declared her his Luna... right in front of the Alpha King and everyone.” “No way,” another said, wide-eyed. “That little mute? He’s choosing her?” Victoria stopped dead in the hallway. Her blood ran cold, then boiled. “What did you just say?” she barked, her voice sliced through the air like a knife. The two servants froze, paling instantly. Victoria stomped over, grabbing the arm of the nearest one. “Tell me. Now.” The girl swallowed hard, glancing around like she wanted to run. “I—I was just saying what I heard, Mistress Victoria,” she stammered. “Alpha Zayn, he... he announced it to the Alphas. Said he’s claiming the mute girl as his Luna.” Victoria’s nails dug into the servant’s skin. “All of it. Tell me everything you heard.” The servant spilled it out in a rush—how Zayn had stood in front of the Alphas and defended Lily, how he warned anyone who challenged him. Victoria let her go with a shove. The servant stumbled back and fled without looking behind her. Victoria stood there for a moment, breathing hard, her hands trembling with rage. He really chose Lily over her? Without thinking, she spun on her heel and stormed toward the infirmary. The halls blurred as she moved, servants scattering out of her way. She didn’t knock. She slammed the infirmary door open so hard it banged against the wall. Talia was wiping her hands with a cloth when the infirmary door swung open. Seeing Talia, Victoria steadied herself against the frame, a fake sweetness dripping from her voice. “There you are. Alpha Zayn’s been looking for you.” Talia straightened slowly, narrowing her eyes. “For me?” Victoria nodded, stepping inside. “Said he needs you at the pack house. Urgently.” Talia didn’t trust her. Something about the way Victoria smiled set her teeth on edge. Still, she sighed and pulled off her apron. “Fine. I’ll go.” Victoria’s smile widened just a little too much. “Good. I’ll keep an eye on things here.” Talia hesitated, glancing once toward Lily, who was still curled up asleep, pale against the sheets. She gave Victoria a warning flare before walking out. The moment the door shut behind her, Victoria’s whole face twisted. The infirmary was empty except for Lily and her. She checked the door carefully, making sure it was shut tight. Then she turned back toward the cot. She looked down at Lily’s sleeping form. Lily stirred faintly but didn’t wake fully. Victoria leaned down, her lips brushing close to Lily’s ear. “You stole everything from me," she hissed. "And you don’t even know it.” She straightened slowly, reaching down to the hidden strap along her thigh. Her fingers found the small silver dagger tucked there, one she always carried for protection. She slid it free, the blade catching the dim light with a faint gleam. Victoria held it loosely in her fingers, weighing it. One quick strike. One moment. She could end it all. She stared down at Lily, the dagger trembling slightly in her grip. And no one would even know until it was too late. Victoria bent over Lily, the silver dagger glinting in her hand. She hovered the blade just inches above Lily’s cheek, watching. "So delicate," she whispered, voice almost tender. "So pathetic." Lily forced herself to stay still, keeping her breathing shallow, her body limp. Every instinct screamed at her to move, to run. Victoria smirked, dragging the blade lightly across Lily’s skin just enough for her to feel the cold metal "You’re awake," Victoria murmured, her voice mocking. "I can hear your little heart trying to break out of your chest." Lily’s heart thudded faster, giving her away. Victoria laughed quietly, "Thought you could fool me?" She pressed the tip of the dagger gently against Lily’s jawline, careful not to break the skin. "Come on," Victoria whispered, leaning in so close Lily could feel her breath. "Open those pretty eyes for me." Lily stayed still, her fists curling under the blanket. Tears burned behind her closed lids, but she didn’t move. Victoria’s smile slipped into something crueler. "It’s no fun slicing up a corpse," she said, pulling the blade back and standing. She twirled the dagger once in her hand lazily. "Maybe you’re smarter than you look," she muttered. "Or maybe you’re just a coward." She glanced once over her shoulder toward the door, then back at Lily. "But don’t worry, little mouse," she said, tucking the dagger back into the strap on her thigh. "There are better ways to make you wish you were already dead.” Victoria watched Lily with a bored expression. "Hurting you with this would be too easy," she muttered, slipping the blade back into its hidden sheath. She pulled something else from the strap instead—a small vial, dark red and gleaming under the infirmary lights. "Now this," she whispered, "this will be much more satisfying." Lily’s heart thudded harder against her ribs. Her body screamed at her to move, to fight, but she was too weak. Victoria uncorked the vial with a soft pop. "Wolfsbane," Victoria said casually, waving it under Lily’s nose. "Mixed with a touch of silver. Very old recipe." Lily whimpered soundlessly, shaking her head. Victoria’s smile widened. "Oh no, little mouse. No hiding now." She grabbed Lily’s jaw roughly with one hand, forcing her mouth open. Lily struggled weakly, trying to push her away, but it was like trying to fight a stone wall. "You think he chose you because you’re something special?" She poured the contents of the vial straight into Lily’s mouth. Lily gagged, trying to spit it out, but Victoria slapped a hand over her mouth and nose, forcing her to swallow. "Drink it," Victoria growled in her ear. "Every drop." Lily’s body convulsed as the bitter liquid burned down her throat. Almost immediately, she felt it—an icy fire racing through her veins. She arched off the bed, her limbs locking up, pain ripping through her from the inside out. Silver lines spread under her skin like cracks in glass, glowing faintly under the surface. Victoria watched, fascinated. Lily’s muffled cries were trapped under Victoria’s palm. She shook and trembled, every nerve ending screaming in agony. Victoria leaned down close to her ear again. "This is where it ends," she murmured. "Don’t worry, no one will mourn for you." Victoria wiped her hand on the blanket with a sneer, straightened her dress, and was just turning to leave when she heard footsteps. Fast. Getting closer. Her heart jumped. Without thinking, she ducked down, crawling under Lily’s bed and pressing herself against the cold floor. The door creaked open. "I didn’t send for you, Talia," Zayn said, his voice low but tired. Their boots thudded quietly against the stone floor as they entered. "I just... I had a bad feeling," Zayn muttered, finding a reason to explain why he had followed Talia back here. Talia gave him a small look. "You care more than you let on." Zayn grunted under his breath but didn’t answer. When they reached Lily’s bed, Zayn’s footsteps slowed—then stopped completely. He stiffened. His eyes locked on her. Something was wrong. Very wrong. His stomach twisted sharply. "What the hell...?" Zayn whispered. Talia’s hand shot out, grabbing Lily’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. "No..." she breathed, her face paling. Zayn moved closer, standing right over Lily. Her skin was deathly pale, almost grey. Dark veins snaked across her arms. Sweat slicked her forehead, and her chest barely moved with each shallow breath. "What happened to her—how did it get this bad? Zayn muttered, voice tight. Talia pulled the thin blanket back carefully, her eyes scanning Lily’s body. "Wolfsbane," she said quickly. "And silver. It’s poisoning her blood." Zayn swore under his breath, a harsh, ugly sound. Talia threw up a hand. "We need to move fast. Give me your blood, Zayn. Now!" Zayn didn’t even blink. He bit into his wrist, hard. Blood welled immediately. Talia grabbed a bowl, hurriedly crushing herbs into it before mixing in his blood. She forced it carefully down Lily’s lips. "Come on, Lily, swallow for me," she whispered. Zayn leaned closer, willing her to move, to breathe, to do anything. Victoria, hidden under the bed, watched with wide eyes, her nails digging into the floor. No. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to hate her! Not bleed for her! Lily jerked weakly, a soft moan escaping, but she didn’t wake. Talia tried again, voice shaking, "It’s not enough... she’s not responding." Zayn’s breathing grew harsher. "Then what? What do we do?" Talia hesitated, looking at him, her face grim. "There’s one more thing..." "Tell me," Zayn’s heart dropped. Talia bit her lip. "There’s a legend," she said quietly. "That the mark of a mate can heal even the deepest injuries. Poison. Silver sickness. It’s like... the mark and the mate bond mends what the body can’t.”