Chapter 50 Make You Regret
Aurora's POV
Nolan's hand was steady on my elbow as he guided me down the hallway, his touch gentle and concerned in a way that made my skin crawl. I kept my expression carefully arranged into lines of hurt and exhaustion, letting my body lean into his support even as disgust churned in my stomach.
"Easy now," Nolan murmured as we crossed the threshold, his arm moving to support more of my weight. He led me to the bed with careful steps, helping me sit on the edge before kneeling in front of me with eyes full of that pathetic devotion that had become so useful. "Are you still feeling sick? Should I call for a doctor?"
I manufactured a weak smile, letting my hand tremble slightly as I reached for his. "I'm alright," I said softly, making my voice breathy and fragile. "Just a bit shaken still. Thank you for getting me out of there."
Nolan's expression softened even further and he squeezed my hand with earnest concern. He stood and crossed to the small table near the window, pouring water from the crystal pitcher into a glass before returning to press it into my hands. "Here, drink this. You need to stay hydrated."
I took a delicate sip, watching him over the rim of the glass as he settled into the chair beside my bed. His gaze was fixed on my face with worry written across every feature and I could practically see the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to figure out how to make me feel better.
"Aurora, you shouldn't let what happened downstairs upset you so much," Nolan said after a moment, his voice taking on an edge of anger that wasn't directed at me. "Elara is just cold-blooded. You've been nothing but kind to her since she came back and she treats you like this. She doesn't deserve your concern."
I let my eyes fill with tears. "You're so good to me, Nolan," I whispered, reaching out to touch his hand again. "I don't know what I'd do without you. Having you here makes me feel safe."
The effect was immediate and gratifying. Nolan's entire face lit up with pleasure at my words, his hand turning to clasp mine more firmly as his eyes went soft with adoration that bordered on worship. "I'll always be here for you," he said earnestly/
I manufactured a yawn, letting my eyelids droop as I gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just so tired suddenly. Would you mind if I rested for a bit?"
"Of course not," Nolan said immediately. "You rest. If you need anything at all, just call for me. I'll be right down the hall."
He moved toward the door with slow steps, turning back to look at me one more time before he finally left. I kept the gentle smile on my face until the door clicked shut behind him, counting to ten in my head to make sure he was truly gone before I let the mask drop completely.
The soft, vulnerable expression melted away like ice under fire, replaced by something twisted and venomous as I crossed to the door and turned the lock with sharp, decisive movement. The click of the bolt sliding home was satisfying, ensuring I wouldn't be interrupted during what came next.
I turned back to face the room and my gaze fell on the water glass Nolan had given me, still sitting on the bedside table where I'd set it down. The sight of it filled me with irrational fury and I grabbed it without thinking, hurling it against the far wall with all the strength I could muster. The glass shattered on impact, crystal shards exploding across the floor in glittering fragments that caught the light.
"Disgusting lapdog," I hissed under my breath, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The rage I'd been suppressing for the past hour came flooding back with crushing force, every moment from that horrible scene in the living room playing through my mind on vicious repeat.
I started pacing, unable to stand still as the images assaulted me. Kaelen's eyes on Elara with that warm, possessive look that should have been mine. His voice dropping to that intimate rumble as he asked about her sleep.
My breathing came faster as the fury built, pressure mounting in my chest until I thought I might explode from it. I grabbed the decorative vase from the dresser and threw it at the wall, watching it smash into pieces with satisfaction that lasted only a second before the rage came rushing back even stronger.
"Why?" I demanded of the empty room, my voice rising to a near-shriek. "What does that bitch have that I don't?"
I yanked open the drawer of my nightstand, pulling out the small carved box where I kept my most precious possessions. My fingers were shaking as I lifted the lid, revealing the black obsidian disk that pulsed with dark energy against my palm. The stone was warm, almost hot, and I felt Silk's presence stir in response to my touch.
Before I could speak, Silk's voice echoed in my mind with clinical detachment that only made my rage burn hotter. "Kaelen Thorne's favorability toward you has decreased by two percent. Current rating stands at three percent."
The words hit me like a physical blow and I felt all the blood drain from my face as the implications sank in. Three percent.
"No," I whispered. "No! This isn't happening!"
"It's her fault," I snarled. "That manipulative little whore! I was making progress, slowly but surely, and then she ruins everything!"
I collapsed onto the bed, my chest heaving with ragged breaths as I tried to force myself back under control.
Taking several deep breaths, I focused on slowing my racing heart and clearing my mind of the red haze that had consumed it. When I felt steady enough to speak without screaming, I reached down to retrieve the obsidian disk from under the bed, clutching it tightly as I addressed Silk with forced calm.
"There has to be a way to fix this," I said quietly. "Dark magic must have some method to make Kaelen choose me, to make him see me as his destined mate instead of her. Tell me there's something, anything, that can accomplish this."
Silk was silent for a long moment and I felt my anxiety spike with each passing second. When it finally spoke, its tone carried a weight that made my skin prickle with unease. "There is one option, but the price is severe and the success rate is less than thirty percent. Are you certain you wish to know the details?"
"Yes," I said immediately, without hesitation or second thought. "I don't care about the price. I don't care about the risks. Tell me everything."
Another pause, longer this time, as if Silk was weighing whether to proceed. Then its voice filled my mind again, colder and more clinical than I'd ever heard it. "The ritual is called the Fate Chain. It requires three living sacrifices of pure-blooded werewolves, a fragment of your own soul to serve as the foundation, a piece of the target rival's soul essence as the binding agent, and it must be performed during the full moon before the Alpha marks his chosen mate."
I listened with growing horror and fascination as Silk continued explaining the details. The sacrifices had to be conscious and aware during the ritual, their life force slowly drained to power the spell.
The fragment of my soul would be permanently severed, leaving me incomplete even if the ritual succeeded. Elara's soul essence would need to be obtained through manipulation and emotional trauma, forcing her to shed spiritual energy that could be captured and bound.
"The consequences of failure are catastrophic," Silk warned, its voice carrying genuine concern for the first time since we'd bonded. "If the ritual fails, your soul will shatter beyond repair. Even if it succeeds, you'll be permanently damaged, your spiritual essence incomplete. And if anyone discovers what you've done, the entire werewolf community will hunt you down and execute you without trial."
I sat in silence as the full weight of what Silk was describing settled over me. This wasn't just dark magic, it was the kind of forbidden practice that got entire bloodlines exterminated.
The kind of thing that violated every natural law and moral boundary that existed in our world. If I went through with this and it failed, I wouldn't just die, I'd be destroyed so completely that not even my soul would remain intact.
But as I sat there weighing the risks, images flashed through my mind in rapid succession. Kaelen's cold indifference when he looked at me. The warmth in his eyes when he gazed at Elara.
The future I'd envisioned for myself as Luna of the Shadow Fang Pack, standing at the Alpha King's side with power and prestige beyond imagining. All of it slipping away because one silver-haired bitch had decided to come home.
My hands clenched around the obsidian disk until my knuckles went white and I felt the sharp edges cutting into my palm. The pain was grounding, pulling me back from the edge of panic and into cold, calculated determination.
I'd come too far to give up now. I'd sacrificed too much, endured too many humiliations, played too many degrading roles to let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
"I want to do it," I said quietly, my voice steady and certain despite the enormity of what I was committing to. "I don't care about the price. I don't care about the risks. I will have Kaelen as my mate and I will become Luna of his pack, no matter what it takes."
Silk didn't respond immediately. When she finally spoke again, its tone was neutral but I detected a hint of something that might have been approval. "You'll need to obtain Elara's soul essence first, which means creating opportunities for close contact and emotional manipulation. The sacrifices will need to be selected carefully, individuals whose disappearance won't raise immediate alarm."
I stood and crossed to my desk, pulling out a black leather notebook I kept locked in the bottom drawer. Opening it to a fresh page, I began making notes with methodical precision, my earlier rage transforming into cold focus as I planned each step of what needed to happen.
"First priority is getting close to Elara," I muttered, writing her name at the top of the page and circling it in red ink. "I need to manufacture situations where she'll lower her guard, where I can provoke emotional responses strong enough to shed soul essence. Grief, fear, anger, any intense emotion will work."
My pen moved across the page as I listed potential approaches. Fake reconciliation attempts. Manufactured emergencies that would force her to respond emotionally. Perhaps even staging an attack that I could then "save" her from, earning her trust while simultaneously traumatizing her enough to harvest what I needed.
"For the sacrifices, I'll need to be strategic," I continued, starting a new section. "Three pure-blooded wolves whose deaths won't be immediately noticed or investigated. Omegas from the lower districts, perhaps. Or orphaned pups with no family connections. Maybe even rogues who've been caught trespassing on pack lands."
"Elara Sterling," I whispered to the empty room, my finger tracing over her name with deliberate pressure. "You're going to regret the day you came back to this pack. Before I'm done with you, you'll wish you'd stayed wherever you were hiding. And when Kaelen finally marks me as his mate, I'll make sure you're there to watch everything you wanted slip away forever."