Chapter 76

The pack awoke to shocking news: Lydia's body had been found with a suicide note confessing to poisoning Marcus. The announcement spread like wildfire, whispers and concerned glances following me as I made my way through the morning preparations.

"Luna Aurora!" A young messenger hurried toward me, slightly out of breath. "Alpha Raymond requests your immediate presence in the council chamber."

I nodded, maintaining a calm exterior despite the alarm racing through me. Giana was moving quickly to close all potential threats to her position. With Lydia's "confession," she could dismiss any accusations as the desperate attempts of a grieving Luna to find someone to blame.

The council chamber buzzed with nervous energy when I arrived. Raymond stood at the center, his posture rigid with authority though his eyes betrayed flickers of confusion. Giana remained slightly behind him, her perfectly composed mask of sympathy firmly in place.

"I've called you all here to share important news," Raymond announced as the room settled. "The investigation into my father's death has reached a conclusion."

He held up an official-looking document, his voice taking on the formal cadence of pack leadership. "Lydia, my father's personal attendant, was found deceased last night. With her body was a detailed confession admitting to poisoning Alpha Marcus over a period of months."

Murmurs rippled through the assembled council members. I kept my expression carefully neutral, though anger burned inside me at this blatant manipulation of the truth.

"The confession cites misguided loyalty to her former pack as motivation," Raymond continued. "This explains the traces of poison found in my father's system and brings closure to questions surrounding his death."

I watched Raymond closely during the announcement, noting moments when doubt crossed his face despite Giana's careful staging. Even now, with a fabricated confession in his hands, something in him seemed to resist accepting the neat resolution Giana had crafted.

Kane stood at a strategic distance, our public interactions deliberately casual despite our private connection. His eyes met mine briefly, a silent message passing between us—we both knew this development was dangerous. Giana was tying up loose ends with terrifying efficiency.

After the announcement, most council members expressed relief that the mystery had been resolved, eager to move forward with pack business. Only Elder Morris watched the proceedings with the same skepticism I felt, his ancient eyes missing nothing.

As the meeting dispersed, I found an opportunity to confront Giana privately, cornering her in an empty corridor.

"We both know that note is forged," I said without preamble.

Giana's perfect mask slipped momentarily, calculating coldness replacing her practiced innocence. "Prove it," she challenged, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Raymond will never believe you over me. Love is such a useful weakness to exploit."

"You underestimate him," I countered, holding my ground despite the implicit threat in her posture. "Parts of him are fighting to break through your control."

A flicker of genuine concern crossed her eyes before her confidence returned. "Moments of clarity in a fog of devotion make no difference. By the time he understands what's happening, it will be too late for all of you."

The taunt struck deeper than I wanted, revealing how she had manipulated Raymond. Her casual mention of "all of you" sent a chill through me—Giana's plans reached beyond controlling Raymond or eliminating me.

"You won't succeed," I said quietly. "Marcus left evidence you haven't found."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Be careful, Aurora. Accidents happen so easily during times of stress. Just look at Lydia."

The threat lingered in the air between us as she glided away, her perfect poise restored before anyone else could witness our confrontation.

I returned to my quarters to find Kane already there, his usual caution temporarily abandoned in the urgency of this new development. He held a copy of the suicide note that he'd somehow acquired, examining it with intense focus.

"How did you get that?" I asked, impressed despite our serious situation.

A ghost of his familiar smirk appeared. "The Alpha King's training included document acquisition techniques. Raymond's new secretary is rather careless with sensitive materials."

Kane discreetly obtained the suicide note for forensic analysis, his expertise revealing a side of him I continued to discover. We worked in close proximity, heads bent together over the document as he pointed out subtle inconsistencies in the handwriting.

"Look at the pressure patterns," he explained, tracing certain letters. "The person who wrote this is right-handed, pressing harder on the downstrokes. But according to Marcus's staff records, Lydia was left-handed."

During our investigation, Kane and I worked in close proximity, our awareness of each other increasingly difficult to ignore. His shoulder brushed mine as he leaned closer to indicate another anomaly in the document, and I felt the silver crescent warm in response.

"The paper quality doesn't match samples of Lydia's known correspondence either," he continued, seemingly unaware of how his proximity affected me. "This is premium stationery, not the personal paper she used for her letters home."

"This isn't just about the pack anymore, is it?" I asked quietly, voicing the question that had been building between us.

Kane's eyes met mine, uncharacteristically serious. "It hasn't been for a long time."

The admission hung between us, neither ready to define exactly what had grown in place of our original arrangement. Before we could explore that conversation further, a knock interrupted us.

I hastily covered the evidence as the door opened to reveal Raymond, his expression unreadable as his gaze moved between Kane and me.

"I need to speak with you," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "Alone."

Kane's reluctance to leave was obvious, though he maintained a casual demeanor as he excused himself. The protective glance he cast my way before departing spoke volumes about how much things had changed between us.

After Kane left, Raymond's formal demeanor cracked slightly, revealing the confusion beneath. "I'm having... dreams," he admitted, his voice lowered as if he feared being overheard. "Fragments of memory that don't align with what I think I know."

"What kind of memories?" I asked carefully, hope rising despite my caution.

Raymond rubbed his temple in frustration. "My father warning me about Giana. Conversations I don't remember. Sometimes I wake up certain something is wrong, but the feeling fades before I can grasp it."

His confusion seemed genuine, fragments of his true self breaking through Giana's conditioning. I wanted to share everything and show him our evidence, but instinct warned that any direct attempt would push him back under Giana's influence.

"Trust those memories, Raymond," I urged gently. "They're trying to tell you something important."

He studied me for a long moment, then his gaze dropped to the silver crescent on my neck. "It's almost completely gone," he observed. "My mark on you."

"The Goddess corrects what shouldn't have been forced," I said softly, watching his reaction carefully.

Something like acceptance flickered across his face before he straightened, formality returning. "I need you to attend Giana's appointment ceremony. As Luna, your approval would help unify the pack during this transition."

I hesitated, weighing the potential dangers against the opportunity to observe Giana's supporters. "The ceremony honors a wolf who has contributed significantly to the pack," I said neutrally. "Has Giana met that threshold?"

A flash of the old Raymond appeared—the boy who valued honesty and tradition—before the familiar fog descended. "She's accomplished much behind the scenes," he said, the words sounding rehearsed. Then, more quietly, vulnerability breaking through: "I need you there, Aurora."

This glimpse of the real Raymond caught me off guard, reminding me of our childhood connection before everything changed.

"I'll be there," I promised, though not for the reasons he assumed.

Later, when Kane returned, he noticed my distraction. "What did Raymond want?" he asked, trying to sound casual though tension underlined his words.

"He wants me at Giana's ceremony," I explained, arranging the documents we'd been examining. "But more importantly, he's starting to remember things—warnings his father gave him about Giana."

Kane hesitated, then asked the question I could see had been bothering him: "Do you still have feelings for him?"

The direct query deserved an honest answer. I took a moment to search my heart, examining what I truly felt for the wolf who had been at the center of my life for so long.

"I care what happens to him," I admitted finally. "But what I feel for him now isn't what I feel for you."

The admission hung between us, acknowledging feelings we'd both been hesitant to name. Kane's eyes softened as he reached for my hand, our fingers intertwining with natural ease.

"We'll use the ceremony to gather more information," he said, his voice gentle. "And to watch who aligns themselves with Giana."

I nodded, grateful for his understanding of my complicated position. Whatever came next, this moment of honesty had shifted something fundamental between us—a step toward the future the silver crescent seemed to promise.