Chapter 20: Poisoned Trust
Chapter 20: Poisoned Trust
Trent's POV
Her body dropped like a stone.
“Eva!”
My roar tore through the air as I sprinted across the training field. One moment she was standing—sweat on her brow, smile tugging at her lips—and the next, she crumpled without warning.
I caught her just before she hit the ground, her limbs cold and limp in my arms.
“Eva—hey, look at me. Look at me!”
Nothing.
Amelia was already rushing from the sidelines, her med bag clutched tightly.
“Move,” she said urgently, dropping to her knees beside us.
“I don’t know what happened—she was fine,” I breathed, brushing strands of hair from Eva’s face. “She didn’t even look tired.”
“She’s been poisoned,” Amelia said instantly, sniffing her breath. “Light dose, but timed perfectly.”
“Poisoned?!” My voice broke. “How the hell—”
“Help me lift her. Now.”
I carried her to the infirmary myself, not trusting anyone. Every step was agony. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her heartbeat faint. Not fading. But barely there.
“She was supposed to be safe,” I growled under my breath.
Amelia worked quickly, administering an injection, checking her vitals. “It’s wolfsbane,” she said after a minute. “Laced with a sedative. Subtle enough to pass under the radar.”
“But enough to drop her,” I said, eyes fixed on Eva’s face.
“Exactly. Someone timed this.”
My hands curled into fists. “No more hiding. I want every cook, guard, and servant questioned. Now.”
—
“Line them up,” I barked at Kyle. “No one leaves. No one breathes without my say.”
Kyle nodded, face hard. “Already on it.”
I turned to the guards. “Search every inch of the manor. Kitchens, storage rooms, guest quarters. I want anything out of place on my desk in ten minutes.”
“What are we looking for?” one asked.
I snapped. “Red vials. Tea blends. Anything suspicious. Go.”
I walked back into the infirmary. Eva hadn’t moved. Amelia sat beside her, holding her hand like she was tethering her to the living.
“I want to kill someone,” I muttered, standing in the doorway.
“Get in line,” she said coldly.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Rachel’s behind this. I know it.”
“She didn’t pour the tea,” Amelia replied. “Someone in this house did.”
My chest tightened. “I want names.”
—
Three hours passed.
Dozens of staff filed in and out. I interrogated every single one—cooks, servers, guards, even gardeners.
Most looked terrified. Some looked confused. One or two cried.
But not a single confession.
Not a single clue.
Until Kyle burst through the door, holding something wrapped in cloth.
“I found this in the laundry chute,” he said grimly.
He unwrapped it.
A small, ornate vial.
Empty—but stained red.
“That’s it,” I growled. “That’s the one Eva saw.”
“It smells like wolfsbane,” Amelia confirmed, taking a quick whiff. “And bloodroot.”
“Where was it exactly?” I asked.
Kyle hesitated. “In Myra’s laundry.”
Silence.
A cold, bitter silence that cracked something inside me.
“Myra?” I repeated.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Her initials were on the pocket of the apron.”
I didn’t waste a second. I stormed out of the infirmary and toward the east wing.
Guards trailed behind me, quiet and alert.
I kicked her door open.
“Myra!” I roared.
She spun around, clearly startled. “Alpha? What’s—”
I grabbed her by the collar and slammed her against the wall. “You think I wouldn’t find out?!”
“Trent!” she gasped, clawing at my hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“You tried to kill her!”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “I made tea, that’s all. I didn’t—”
“With what, Myra? What the hell was in that vial?”
“I—I don’t know!” she cried. “It wasn’t mine!”
Kyle stepped forward, holding up the cloth. “We found this in your apron.”
She stared at it.
Then at me.
“I don’t know how it got there—someone planted it!”
“Who?” I growled.
“Maybe Kiara,” she said desperately. “She’s been acting weird—maybe she’s trying to frame me!”
I paused.
Kyle and Amelia exchanged looks behind me.
“Say that again,” I ordered.
“Kiara!” Myra gasped. “She’s always around the kitchens. Maybe she used my things. Maybe she’s working with Rachel!”
“I’ll be the one who decides who’s working with Rachel,” I snarled.
Her hands trembled. “Please… I didn’t mean to hurt her. I didn’t know!”
“You didn’t know,” I repeated, disgusted. “But you served her the tea.”
“She’s not supposed to be Luna!” Myra snapped suddenly. “She’s—she’s a stray. We were promised someone else. Rachel was supposed to be Luna!”
There it was.
The mask cracked.
And I felt my wolf surge with murderous rage.
I dropped her.
She collapsed to her knees, coughing, gasping.
“Take her to the cells,” I said coldly.
Two guards grabbed her.
“Trent—Alpha, please—”
I didn’t look back.
I walked away.
Straight to Eva.
—
She was still out.
Still pale.
I dropped into the chair beside her and took her hand in mine.
“Baby…” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I’d failed her.
I’d let vipers slither too close. I’d been so careful—so sure I could protect her—and now she was lying in bed, poisoned, because I didn’t see the traitors in my house.
I pressed my forehead to her hand.
“I swear to you… this ends now. I’ll burn the whole pack down before I let anyone hurt you again.”
The door creaked.
Amelia entered with a small bowl of warm broth.
“She’s stirring,” she said softly. “Her vitals are stabilizing.”
I shot up.
Eva’s eyelashes fluttered.
Her lips moved faintly.
“Eva,” I said, leaning in. “I’m here.”
Her eyes opened.
Cloudy. Weak.
But focused.
“…Trent?”
Relief surged through me. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.”
She swallowed painfully. “What… happened?”
“You collapsed. Someone poisoned your tea.”
She blinked slowly. “I knew it…”
“Shh,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ve handled it. Myra’s in the cells. She confessed.”
Her brow creased. “Myra…”
“You’re safe now.”
But she didn’t look relieved.
She looked broken.
Tired.
After a moment of silence, she whispered, “I need to leave.”
My breath caught. “What?”
“I can’t stay here.”
I grabbed her hand. “Eva, no—”
She shook her head weakly. “I don’t feel safe anymore. Not in this pack. Not in this house.”
“Eva—baby—don’t say that.”
“I want to leave,” she said again. “Tonight.”