Chapter 17

ELENA

Mason studied me carefully, his gaze searching for something I wasn’t ready to give. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “Seeing Derek again…It must have stirred up a lot.”

I sighed and stepped off the elevator. Mason and I were in nearby rooms on one of the higher floors of the venue. As we got to his room he fiddled with the keycard, trying to get it to work.

I leaned against the wall outside his door. “I’m fine, Mason. Really.”

He looked up from what he was doing, his lips pressed into a thin line, his disbelief clear. “Elena, you’ve been avoiding Logan—a man who would do anything for you—and now this. If you don’t still have feelings for Derek, then what is it?”

I hesitated. It wasn’t that simple. I had no intention of going back to Derek, but Mason was right—something in me had twisted when I saw him.

Not out of love, but out of anger, resentment, and the deep, unshakable pain of betrayal. And maybe—what hurt so badly—desire.

“I don’t have feelings for him,” I said firmly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to throw myself into Logan’s arms.”

Mason studied me for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. Just…be careful.”

I gave him a small smile and he tried swiping the key card a few more times, each time the little light on the door lock flashing red.

“I hate these things!” he said. “What was wrong with good, old-fashioned keys?”

“Would you like me to try?” I asked sweetly.

He frowned, but took a step back, handing me the key card. “Good luck,” he said. “It’s probably broken.”

I took the card from him and swiped it once in front of the lock. It gave off a cheerful little beep and the light turned green, unlocking the door.

I handed his key card back with a smirk. “Goddess, you’re hopeless,” I teased, pushing off the wall to head to my own room.

“I primed it for you!” he called out down the hallway.

I laughed and turned the corner to where my own room sat. There was a housekeeping cart outside the door.

Popping my head through the open doorway, I called out, “Hello?”

A maid that had been making the bed jumped, startled. With a hand to her chest, she turned to me as I stepped inside.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She swallowed thickly. “It’s—it’s okay.”

“I’ll try to stay out of your way,” I said, smiling at her. I lowered myself into the chair in the corner of the room.

As I settled in, the maid began moving hurriedly, stealing nervous glances my way. When she adjusted my pillows, I noticed that she was wearing gloves. And that her hands were shaking slightly.

I frowned. “Is something wrong?”

The maid stiffened. “N-no, miss. Just making sure everything is perfect for you.”

Perfect? Something wasn’t right. My instincts sharpened, and I moved toward the bed. When I lifted the pillow, a faint scent reached my nose—one that I recognized instantly.

Acontium.

Wolfsbane.

I turned to look at the maid, whose face crumpled into tears.

“I’m so sorry!” she said, her voice wobbly. “I didn’t want to do it!”

“Show me,” I said calmly, and she walked me over to the housekeeping cart, pulling out a small bag that held a pill casing and its powdery remains. I had seen it before.

Acontium. Wolfsbane is lethal to werewolves in large doses, but it’s often taken orally—in small doses and mixed with an anti-inflammatory—to treat long-term silver-poisoning injuries. But if what’s contained in those pills is exposed to a werewolf’s skin?

It causes a rash.

“Who gave this to you?” I asked, my voice sharp.

The maid hesitated, then whispered, “I was paid to do it. By a woman with black hair.”

I didn’t need more details. I knew exactly who had orchestrated this.

I thought back to the day of my wedding, Cassandra cradling her arm, Derek concerned about an injury she’d sustained long ago. Werewolves healed relatively quickly, helped along by the powerful wolves inside us.

The only injuries that tended to be persistent? Chronic? Were those caused by silver.

The pills belonged to Cassandra. And she’d tried to use them to give me an embarrassing rash. To humiliate me in front Derek and the other gathered Alphas and Lunas.

If she thought she could make a fool of me, she had no idea who she was dealing with.

A slow smile curled up my lips. “Thank you,” I said softly. “And don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.”

The next morning, Mason and I got to the restaurant early at my insistence, the grand dining hall gradually becoming alive with chatter as the tables filled up. I had spoken with the hostess when we arrived, sending Mason to our table ahead of me.

As we dined, I scanned the entrance for Cassandra, eager to see her, and for her to see me.

She and Derek entered about midway through the breakfast rush, sitting several tables over. Exactly where I wanted them.

I sipped my coffee, pretending not to have seen. Cassandra watched me closely, probably expecting my skin to break out in a humiliating rash any moment now. I let her enjoy her anticipation.

Mason leaned back in his chair, rubbing his belly with satisfaction. “I’m stuffed,” he said.

I was picking at the last of the fruit on my plate, my eyes darting to Cassandra and Derek’s table. I watched as she raised her napkin to daintily wipe the side of her mouth after a bite of breakfast.

“You ready to go?” Mason asked.

“Not yet,” I said.

He followed my gaze and pressed his mouth into a thin line.

“Listen, Elena,” he started.

Then it happened.

I watched as Cassandra’s face contorted and she reached up to scratch at her cheek.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Mason tilted his head at me. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said with mock innocence, sipping the last dregs of my coffee.

Then there was a gasp, followed by a low murmur.

Angry red blotches bloomed across Cassandra’s cheeks, crawling down her neck like a spreading wildfire. Her fingers scratched at her skin frantically and her breathing quickened. She shot to her feet, knocking over her chair in her panic.

“What—what’s happening?” she shrieked.

All eyes in the room turned to her.

Derek stood, concern on his face. “Cassandra?”

Cassandra finally looked over at me, and her breath hitched, realization dawning in her wide, furious eyes.

She took a few stumbling steps toward our table. “You—” she started.

I gave her a concerned look. “Goddess,” I said. “That looks painful. You know, Acontium is only supposed to be taken orally. You really ought to be more careful with your medication.”

Her face would have turned red from rage if it wasn’t already covered in an angry rash. She spun and fled the room, her hands covering her face.

Derek watched her go and then looked down at his half-eaten meal. He looked back and forth between where Cassandra had fled and his breakfast a few times, and then hesitatingly sat down to finish his meal.

“What the hell was that about?” Mason asked.

I leaned back in my chair, feeling smug.

“Someone,” I said, looking pointedly at the door through which Cassandra had fled, “put some wolfsbane on my pillow. I was just returning the favor.”

Mason’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that what you were talking with the hostess about?”

I leaned back. “The hostess has plausible deniability. I’m the one who put it on her napkin. I just asked the hostess to make sure she was seated in the right place.”

Mason shook his head. Just then, one of the event organizers came up to our table and asked to speak with him.

He looked down at his watch.

“Shoot,” he said, standing. “I’ve got to get to this meeting. I need to drop these papers off in my room first, but I’ll never get through the door with that damn lock. Do you mind doing it for me?”

“Sure,” I smiled, taking the room key he handed me. He swanned off and I stood to leave.

And turned right into Derek King’s chest.

His presence sent a ripple of energy through me, but I forced myself to remain indifferent.

He looked down at the room key in my hand, his expression darkening. “Were you with him all night?”

I sighed, my patience wearing thin. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

His jaw clenched. “Answer me.”

I lifted my chin, and met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. “You have Cassandra to worry about, Derek. Not me.”

He flinched as if I’d struck him. For a moment, something raw and vulnerable flicked across his face, but I refused to let it sway me.

Before he could say another word, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen. The Moonstone packhouse maid.

I answered, and my blood ran cold at her words. “Miss Elena, I’m calling about Aiden. He ran out of the pack grounds. He’s gone.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “What?”

“He’s—he’s missing.”

Panic surged through me.

Derek noticed the change in my expression. “Elena? What’s wrong?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My mind was already racing.

I ended the call and stared at my phone.

I had to find my son.