I hadn’t connected it before, but now it suddenly seems obvious. I shake my head, still, cursing myself for jumping to that conclusion. I focus on Finn’s small, hot body pressed against my side, Ivy’s hair fanned across my collarbone—and then the dream claws back into me: shadows, black flowers, the slow, steady drip of poison into a cup. I bolt upright, heart hammering.
Nyx echoes,‘You know what you have to do.’
Rising carefully from the bed, I wrap my cloak around me and make my way to the pack’s conservatory.
Brin is grinding something with a mortar and pestle when I stumble into the glass hall, slippers slapping stone. “Luna Freya,” he greets, bowing deeply. “You look worried.”
“I need those leaves, Brin,” I blurt out, breathless. “The ones that confirm silverdew poisoning.”
“What is going on?” he mumbles, but he moves, abandoning his work before crouching and tearing a few familiar leaves.
“What if it wasn’t just me?” I murmur, clawing at my chest. “What if this isn’t just about claiming Kade but something more?”
Brin’s lips curl into a frown. “You think Izel has been poisoning the Alpha too? But that’s not possible. Everything he eats is checked by the expert healer—”
“I don’t understand,” I tell him. “But I have to confirm. How do we know she wasn’t glamoring him as well? And not just my children?”
Brin gasps, but he doesn’t stop me when I turn and stride out of the conservatory.
They are at breakfast when I reach the hall—Kade and Rowan sitting side by side in a strange, formal ease. Jax stands guard, arms clasped behind his back. The sight halts me. Rowan’s eyes flick up and hold me steady; his face is a quiet refuge. Kade’s jaw is a stone wall. He’s reading papers, his knuckles turned white from how hard he’s gripping them. “This is a petition for the Luna Competency Trial,” he whispers with disbelief. “Signed by Izel and… Elder Thane.”
My breath slows. I watch the documents, then bring my gaze to Rowan. He doesn’t answer me, but he turns back to Kade.
Rowan slides another parchment across the table. “We intercepted more,” he says. “Correspondence between elders of the High Council. They discuss Freya’s identity as High Luna—and lay plans to use Silvercrest against Nightfell.” His voice is flat. “They argue the pack must be broken.”
My throat dries up.No, no, no.Why would he tell Kade about that? What is going on?
Kade’s eyes flick to the second page, then back to me. For a moment, there is only stillness. Then his face tightens into something I don’t recognize. “Forged,” he says too quickly. “It’s all forged.” He stands up suddenly, his chair falling back to the ground with a loud clatter due to the force. “Is this what you’ve been doing behind my back all this time, Freya? You’re a part of this plot, aren’t you? Izel was right. You’ve been colluding with the rogues! You’ve been having an affair with this man!”
I scoff, suddenly feeling too empty and angry. If I could yield fire, I’d burn him to ashes right here. “You are accusingme?” I snap.
Kade’s jaw clenches. “Did you… set it up? The whole shadow attack?”
“Alpha,” Jax tries, but his voice is ignored.
There is an ache in my chest that is no surprise. I have been awake to the shape of betrayal for months. “Why would—” I start, and my voice is hot. “Why would I put my son’s life at risk?”
Kade looks at me like I have sprung a blade. “Do you—did you?” He stomps towards me. “Freya—”
“Do you still not see it?” My voice snaps. I am too tired to be gentle. I step forward until I can see the tiny white crescent on his knuckle where he always toys with his ring. “Then put these leaves on your tongue.”
He argues. “I won’t—”
“You will,” I command. Nyx’s voice threads through me, and the words move from thought to bone. Kade’s fingers tremble; his breath quickens. For a beat he resists—anger flaring bright and ugly—but then his movements go mechanical, like a man pulled by strings. He takes the leaves and puts them in his mouth.
I count the seconds. Ten. Nine. Eight. One. His throat works, and when his mouth opens, the leaves come back blackened.
“She’s been poisoning you, too,” I gasp in disbelief.
Jax shakes his head. “It’s not possible. Any poison in his food will be discovered when the expert healer tastes it.”
Kade’s face unravels, a sickening comprehension taking over. “What—what is going on?” His voice is small and boyish, stripped of the Alpha’s armor.
I tell him about Nyssa: Brin’s recollection, the witch who survived the pyre and turned Draven’s last years into a map of rot. I tell him about glamor and about Izel’s schemes and the way the servants obeyed her as if pulled by a hidden cord. I watch Kade’s eyes narrow, then cloud before pooling with something that looks dangerously like shame.
“You know nothing of Izel,” he snarls, and the sound is wrong—muffled, like someone trying to speak through cloth. His words slur.
Rowan’s mouth curls. “Or perhaps she knows more than you think.” He rises to a confident stance.
