Chapter 48

Amanda’s POV

The glow of my phone lit the velvet-dark bedroom like a secret fire. I lay sprawled on satin sheets, the curtains drawn tight, the hum of the city a low whisper beyond the glass. My painted nails clicked against the screen as I scrolled through the latest posts on the forum I’d seeded.

Line after line of curated poison bloomed there, my handiwork turned digital wildfire: headlines suggesting Esther had seduced the Alpha King, cropped photos from the medical rally, speculative gossip about secret pregnancies and backroom deals.

A thin smile curved my mouth. Let them chew on that.

#PalaceMistress #slavetosorceress #AlphaAffair

I had hired the right people this time. They were quiet professionals who could pump a rumor until it became a narrative. They’d doctored images, bought anonymous accounts, and planted tips with palace-adjacent gossip pages.

Even the palace staff had started whispering at the edges of corridors, exchanging knowing smirks when Esther passed.

I leaned back in the gilt vanity chair and caught my reflection in the mirror. Perfect makeup. Hair coiled like a crown. Years of patient plotting perched on my shoulders like a diadem I’d forged myself.

“Let’s see you wriggle out of this one, little doctor,” I murmured to my reflection.

By midmorning, the palace corridors were vibrating with gossip. Servants lowered their eyes when Esther walked past, then whispered furiously behind her back. A chambermaid “accidentally” dropped a tray at her feet, muttering something about “tramp doctors” as she scuttled away.

I made a point of being nearby to witness it all, murmuring faux-sympathies with a sweet tilt of my head: “Oh, poor thing, she’s under so much stress. One hopes the Alpha won’t be compromised.” My words spread like smoke, carrying the sting of truth even though every syllable was a lie.

Inside, a pulse of panic beat under my satisfaction. Nicholas had been distant for weeks. He ignored my carefully staged appearances, ignored my attempts at intimacy. He still had not crowned me Luna.

The mere fact that Esther existed inside these walls was an insult. If I could not make Nicholas discard the healer willingly, I would make the court do it for him.

By early afternoon, the corridors buzzed like a hornet’s nest. My spies fed me updates in hushed texts. She looks exhausted. She’s been crying in the records room. The Beta saw her skip lunch.

Perfect. I knew she’d crack.

That afternoon I positioned myself in the sunken courtyard near the eastern wing, where the stone archways cooled the summer air. My crimson sleeves caught the wind like banners. The koi pond reflected shards of sky between lily pads, but I barely saw it. I was waiting for my prey.

I’d baited the hook well enough.

Sure enough, footsteps rang against the flagstones. Each step was quick, clipped, and angry.

Esther stepped into the courtyard, white healer’s coat stiff in the breeze, a strand of auburn hair clinging to her damp cheek. Her hazel eyes were rimmed in red; the smear campaign had taken its toll. But there was still iron in her spine.

“You started this,” she said flatly. “The articles. The tags. The lies.”

I tilted my head, letting the sunlight glint off my earrings. “People simply… talk. I can’t be blamed for the public’s imagination.”

She took a step closer, fists tight at her sides. “You’re poisoning this pack. If you want to fight me, do it directly. Stop hiding behind hired cowards.”

I let a slow smile stretch across my face. “Directly?” My lips curved sharper. “As you wish.”

I clapped my hands once. From the archway, two of my attendants stepped out. They were burly, low-ranking enforcers who owed their jobs to my patronage and wouldn’t hesitate for a moment.

Esther stiffened. “Really?”

“Perhaps you’ll be less arrogant,” I said, “once you’re reminded of your place.”

The first attendant moved fast, grabbing for her arm. Esther swung a knee into his stomach, knocking him off balance. The second one caught her from behind, wrenching her by the collar. She stumbled, her head cracking against the stone wall with a sickening thunk.

Pain lanced through her skull. I saw her eyes flicker.

I stepped forward, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “You think Nicholas will keep protecting you? He’s an Alpha King. He doesn’t need a washed-up slave-doctor clinging to his coattails. He’ll drop you the moment you’re inconvenient.”

She spat blood, a bright red arc against the pale stone. “Better to be a healer than a parasite.”

My eyes flashed. I nodded at the attendants.

“Teach her a lesson.”

They moved again, shoving her to her knees. Her healer’s coat tore at the seam; the white fabric darkened with dust and blood.

This was the moment I’d planned for: a controlled humiliation, enough to frighten her back into obscurity.

Nicholas’s POV

The scent hit me first. Blood and panic, sharp as ozone before a storm, filled my senses.

Norman lunged inside my skull, claws out. Mate!

I rounded the corner into the courtyard just as one of Amanda’s thugs drew back a fist.

“Enough,” I said. My voice cracked like thunder.

Everyone froze. The koi pond stilled. Even the air seemed to tighten.

Amanda whirled, her painted composure slipping. “Alpha—this isn’t—”

“Step back.” I crossed the courtyard in three strides, my presence rolling out like a wave of pressure. Norman prowled beneath my skin, eager for violence, my fingers already tingling as claws threatened to break the skin.

The attendants shrank under my gaze, but I grabbed the nearest one by the throat anyway and slammed him against the stone column. His feet dangled a few inches above the ground, eyes bulging. “Who told you to touch her?”

He choked, soundless.

Amanda stammered, “It was a misunderstanding. They were only—”

I released the thug with a shove that sent him sprawling onto the flagstones. My glare swung to the second attendant. “Both of you, gone. Now.”

“But Alpha—”

“Gone,” I snarled, and the word cracked like a whip. They fled like rats, shoes scraping on stone, leaving only the stink of their fear behind.

Esther staggered upright, one hand braced on the wall, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead. Her healer’s coat hung crookedly from one shoulder, torn. She refused to look at me, which only made my wolf more agitated.

Amanda tried again, voice trembling with false outrage. “She came at me in public! My attendants were defending me—”

“Silence.” My wolf-edge scraped every syllable. “You think I don’t smell the lies on you? You think I don’t see the smear campaign you’ve been peddling?”

A flicker of true fear crossed her face. “Alpha, please—”

“You’ve embarrassed this pack and me with your little games.” I took a step closer, looming over her. “One more stunt like this and you’re done.”

Her lips trembled, but she dropped her gaze. “Yes, Alpha.”

I turned to Esther. Her shoulders were squared but trembling. “You need medical attention,” I said, forcing my voice softer.

“I can manage,” she muttered, pushing past me, eyes locked on the archway.

Norman rumbled disapproval. She’s bleeding.

“Esther,” I tried again, but she didn’t slow. She crossed the courtyard, head high despite the blood running down her temple, and disappeared through the archway.

The courtyard fell silent except for the koi pond’s gentle ripple. Amanda still stood rooted to the spot, her hands twisting in her skirts, the picture of a child caught breaking glass.

I fixed her with one last look. “Leave. And consider yourself warned.”

She fled without another word, the click of her heels a staccato retreat down the corridor.

Alone now, I exhaled a long breath, dragging a hand over my face. My fists ached with the urge to do more than scare her lapdogs. Norman prowled at the back of my skull, restless.

We wanted to tear them apart. We wanted to shield her.

We will, Norman replied darkly. She’s ours.

I stared at the spot where Esther had stood, blood staining the stone, and felt an ache in my chest I didn’t want to name. The gossip would explode now—Alpha favors the doctor, Amanda humiliated—but I didn’t care.

What mattered was the sight of Esther’s eyes, defiant even through pain.

I turned and stalked out of the courtyard, already issuing orders to have a healer sent to her rooms.

As I walked back through the corridors, voices dimmed around me. Guards stepped aside quickly. The bond still hummed in my chest, an electric pulse guiding me toward her scent, even as I forced myself to veer off toward my own quarters.

You should go to her, Norman pressed. She’s wounded.

“She wouldn’t accept it.”

Doesn’t matter.

“I’m not giving her more reasons to hate me.”

Norman went silent but I could feel his disapproval like claws scratching at the inside of my ribs.

From the open balcony at the end of the hall, I watched the sunlight shift over the courtyard stones, glinting off the fresh smear of blood where she’d stood. I’d pay to have it scrubbed away before the next audience.

But the image would stay burned into me.

For a long moment I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. Her scent—wild honey, daisies, vanilla—lingered on the breeze. Beneath it all, the faint stir of Sharon, dormant but flickering, calling to Norman like a heartbeat in the dark.

“Not yet,” I murmured to no one. “But soon.”

Norman growled softly, the sound more like a purr than a threat.

Somewhere in the depths of the palace, Esther was tending her own wound, perhaps wondering if I’d saved her out of duty or something far more dangerous.