Chapter 189

Ella POV

My body was not a temple, but it was my meal ticket, my golden meal ticket.

So, I made sure to pamper my body to the point of diminishing returns. This included my skin, hair, nails, muscle tone, and cardio. An important part of my body care was a daily bath.

Sometimes, by necessity, it was a rushed affair. But I ensured I got at least five minutes of soak time per day.

But today was one of those days when I could take my time. I put in my usual custom mix of oils with a bath bomb I had made especially for me at a wonderful boutique in Orleans Territory. I set out scented candles, and I put on some Bach, piano only.

The water was perfect as I slid into the tub, and with a laugh I ran my hands down over my breasts to my stomach and then up and over my legs. Lovely. The steam was doing its job on my face, while my hair was tucked up in a towelette.

It made me think of Artur, my lover in Paris. His hands were magnificent, and I lightly trailed my hands up the inside of my thighs to remind myself of his delicate confidence, so rare but valuable in a gamma, in my bed.

Leaning back and relaxing, I let the day’s troubles fade away into the aromas rising up around me. I could feel my skin soaking in the nutrients it needed.

Of course, my time with Artur had been too short for my taste. He ran back to his mate like a whipped puppy when I said something or other about his inability to provide for himself. Well, she could have him, I supposed.

Grace’s voice was concerning. The thought intruded like a cockroach at a picnic. She was so young, still developing, and I could hear the high notes she was taking on like she was eating cotton candy.

Candy floss, I thought. The British called it candy floss. For the French it was barbe à papa, or daddy’s beard. I didn’t like that. Who wants to eat a beard?

I laughed. Artur could tell them a thing or two about that, I thought. His lips were strong and sure, his tongue a pile driver.

I had hardly recognized Sarah. The months away had tripled her confidence, and she’d obviously gotten used to manicures and salon-styled hair in record time. Of course, she was lovely, but not like me. It was nothing to worry me there.

Olivia had been a little like her, I realized: lovely but not gorgeous, not model-level beautiful. And like Olivia, I could tell she thought she was better than me. Watching her stand there while Zane poured her coffee, her telling me about Grace’s music lesson as though she could stand between me and my niece: it was all so ridiculous, and she believed it.

I grew bored with the bath and let out the warm water. With practiced moves, I lightly dried my body before putting on my current favorite lotion with Miracle Broth from Crème de la Mer and then stepping out of the tub.

I needed to be careful about Sarah, as much as I wanted to dismiss her. I had made that mistake with Olivia, believing my superior beauty would trump her alpha status. Of course, it should have, but now I knew Zane valued status above appearances, just like a good Pack Alpha should.

It was supposed to be a thing, a credo of werewolves that status triumphed, but in my experience it was simply not true. The desire of others to be with me, their attraction so strong I could see it confused them, that was the driving force that would always get me what I wanted.

Except for Zane, that first time around.

I remembered Olivia standing there in the moonlight, her silver dress a midnight cloud around her, and I had never wanted to destroy something as much as I did in that moment. It took everything in me, every year of my life spent in front of a camera, to smile and congratulate her when the time came. And there Zane had stood, looking so proud, so pleased with himself.

Next, I slipped into my new sleepwear, a silk satin affair of pants and long-sleeved shirt with ivory buttons and lamé piping. It fit perfectly. But then, I was a perfect size two and had been since I was fourteen.

After that, I brushed my hair, put my night cream on my face, moisturized my lips, and walked to the window to thank the goddess for my gifts. I knew she would help me use them in the future as she had in the past.

I glided across the room and went to bed, pulling my silk sheets up to my shin before lying flat on my back. I gave the command to my smartphone, and the lights went out.

The past wasn’t something I enjoyed thinking about much. I had been in such dismay, watching Olivia walk about with her swollen stomach and Zane’s admiring gazes. Soon, she would be not only his wife but also mother to his children, fixed as the Second Pack Alpha, adored by one and all.

Her nose went slightly to the right when she looked at you directly, and sometimes she slouched like a sack of potatoes. Yes, her pregnancy hormones made her glow, made her so happy. I told her in my mind to enjoy that happiness while it lasted.

Getting the maid to slip the poison in her tea had been the easiest part. The girl had all but suffered an aneurysm when I told her how much money she would earn along with a house for herself in the territory of her choice. Even if she had resisted, she knew I knew all about the pearls she had stolen from Olivia’s dresser; it would have been the work of a minute to have gotten her fired.

Of course, the girl hadn’t been able to follow directions fully, and Olivia had only sipped at the tea, so instead of a woman and two dead pups only the mother herself had died. Grace had come close, and I had taken steps to play up the effects of her resultant illness so that she was barely able to say boo to he own shadow, but somehow Chloe had escaped, taken from her crib in the middle of the night. I still didn’t know how or by whom.

And then the little brat had ended up with some saint-like human, the same human now residing as a goddess-mother in Zane’s household. It really wasn’t to be tolerated.

There had been one snag: getting the coroner to fake the autopsy report. I had slept with him, of course, smiling while he made his little piggy noises above me, but then he’d wavered, and I’d had to take steps to keep him in line. Very distasteful.

But he’d been careful not to cross me, so that said something for the little beta’s intelligence.

Betas. That was Olivia’s first sin against me: being born an alpha while I was a beta. The rest had been the natural and inevitable outcome of that offense.

I turned my thoughts from the past. They were satisfying but stressful. Stress was bad for my body. I would sleep now and have lovely dreams.

Well, as long as I didn’t have that dream again where some silver wolf hunted me through the forest at night, then I would be fine.