Chapter 62

After breakfast, I went to the library, but I wasn’t sure if I had given Ezra enough time to collect what I needed.

The packhouse was dark and quiet, and I moved through the shadows like a wraith. But in the library, a blazing fire was lit, and I smiled; it filled me with warmth. Ezra had done that.

I reached for the book. Inside was a small pouch alongside a note.

Ingested. Takes an hour. Everything is set for three hours from now.

I made my way to the hall where the older offices were. They were eerily silent, so I carefully took what I needed, wrapping it carefully and hoping they didn’t expire. Either way, I would be back to finish the job.

I wandered into the kitchen; it was bright and loud compared to the sleepiness of the rest of the packhouse. I stayed in a corner, picking at an apple. Even though there was a lot of activity, no one seemed to be talking. Everyone looked exhausted.

“The Luna is awake; she wants breakfast in bed,” Amelia finally stated.

“Hangover cure?” another Omega asked, rolling her eyes. Amelia nodded.

“Is the Alpha awake?” I asked Amelia, not looking up from my apple. “Am I expected to join for breakfast again?” I asked.

“The Alpha is, but he is skipping breakfast this morning,” Amelia said.

Good, I needed to make sure this would go to The Luna only. I couldn’t challenge an Alpha without a wolf. I had some morals.

It was awkward, especially without my usually annoyingly long sleeves for cover, but I found my moment when the Omega turned to grab utensils to slip in the powder. No one was paying attention to me anyway—I was invisible here, too

I trailed behind the Omega with The Luna’s breakfast, ensuring the tray was dropped to the right place, and wandered back to the more familiar part of the packhouse.

I stood in a large window I had only passed before. The widow reached the ceiling, and it looked down at the main entrance to the packhouse from a floor up. It was too obvious a place to stand, even during the day, and there were too many eyes, Omegas, and warriors milling about—I had no reason to be here.

But today…. Today, I lingered in that window like a ghost.

And I was, I had been. One that had been haunting them for over a year now. So I stood and watched and waited. I knew I was meant to be here in this spot because I fought for it, I claimed it, I schemed for it, and I orchestrated it.

I allowed myself a wide, bright, and real smile. Surveying the place I had chosen for this all to end below.

Again, I was overcome by the sense that my past self, the one who focused on anger and vengeance just to push past the pain, never could have imagined this, the sheer extent of our revenge.

There was a flicker, a flurry of movement behind the treeline, like a shallow wave. I breathed in deeply.

They were here.

Slowly, she emerged from the treeline. No warriors were tipped off, and I knew Ezra somehow had that under control.

Nova sashayed forward with dancer-like grace, her head held high, her long hair wild and unbound, trailing behind her.

Her werecats followed, and my blood lit up at the sight.

I was mesmerized by her. She seemed to radiate grace even from this distance. It was a struggle to turn away, but I had something I had to attend to while the place would erupt with activity.

I hurried down the steps toward the new packhouse extension and listened outside the Alpha and Luna’s door. Only one person was inside, so I knocked sharply.

Long moments later, Luna Addison opened the door, wearing a full face of makeup and fully dressed, even though her eyes were dull and tired. My mother’s tiara sat on top of her head. The anger lapped, and I let it simmer.

“Simone.” Her eyes widened as she glanced down at me, but then she frowned. “What are you doing here?”

I pushed into the room, closing the door behind me. The room was dark; they had a wall of windows facing the front of the packhouse, but black-out curtains were down and fully shut. It would make a good show later if everything went according to plan.

Her mouth hung open. “Get out,” she commanded. Her eyes flickered to a cloudly gray before swirling back to their dull color.

“Can’t mindlink?” I asked, tilting my head innocently.

I locked the door behind me. When I was facing her again, her face was contorted with a mix of rage and confusion.

“I don’t have time, unfortunately, to drag this out,” I said.

“What do you think you are doing?” Luna Addison demanded her hands formed tight fists, and she stamped her foot.

My eyes roamed to the top of her head. The sight of my family heirloom, my mother’s tiara on that witch, fed my anger, and it flared up, the embers coursing through me, mixing with my blood until my blood only sang of rage and fury and righteousness.

“I came to take back what is mine,” I stated.

“Simone, what is wrong with you?” Luna Addison took a few steps back. “This isn’t like you.”

“Actually, it is.” My gaze didn’t drop from the tiara.

A wicked smile tugged at her face. “Ah, I see,” she stated. “This is mine now.” She reached up and touched the tiara.

“I wasn’t asking,” I seethed. “It is coming off you, with or without your head attached to it.”

Her mouth hung open as if she were trying to process something. I knew she wouldn’t have enough time to fully understand what was about to happen to her, to have the appropriate amount of fear.

She only barked a laugh. “Get out of my way. I have duties to attend to.” She tried to step past me, but I sidestepped her, blocking her path.

“You aren’t leaving this room,” I stated. She tried to mindlink again, and thankfully, it wouldn’t work. “Get out of my way.” She raised her hand to slap me, but I grabbed her wrist, twisting it so she turned, and I pinned it behind her.

“You are not leaving this room,” I repeated and yanked the tiara off her. She yelped and thrashed as some of her hair pulled out with it.

“You have your mother's crown; now let go of me,” she spat, struggling against me. I released her and slowly set the tiara on the floor. “You will pay for this, though.” She smiled wide, and a wicked glint entered her watery eyes. I can’t wait to watch you squirm. You think what has happened to you is bad?” She laughed loudly. “You haven’t seen a thing.”

I sighed. “A hollow threat.”

“Never,” she snarled. “You will pay for this and not with your death. You will suffer,” she promised.

I stared at her with a bored look. “A threat is only meaningful if you can carry it out,” I tried to explain. She opened her mouth, but I really didn’t have time for this. “You can choose to fight like Hudson if you wish, but you know how that ended.” I pinned on a mock frown.

“How dare you speak his name!” she seethed, standing over me.

“Or you can die without a fight like Dominick,” I went on as if I didn’t hear her.

Anger construed her features. “What are you implying, you little bitch?”

“Black Forest owes Blood Moon a debt,” I told her. “A blood debt.”

Her lips pulled back in a snarl as I stared her down and said, “I have come to collect.”

“I took Hudson’s life as payment for part of that debt,” I spoke, and the anger solidified. Adrenaline pumped through me. “Dominick’s blood helped pay back some of it when my sword sliced through his chest at the back of the maze the onlookers couldn’t see.”

Her jaw tensed slightly; her eyes were hard. “Nothing you can do will repay that debt fully, but I decided to start with your lives,” I explained with a shrug.

Her mouth hung open, but she barked a raw laugh. “You did not.” She shook her head.

“His fingers were cut off on his left hand,” I stated plainly. Hudson’s hands were covered during the funeral, but not Dominick's.

Her eyes widened, and her face fell a bit. She opened her mouth and closed it again, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t believe you,” she said, but her voice wavered.

I shrugged. “You don’t have to. You can ask them in the next life. I’m sure wherever you’re headed, it’s the same as them.” I smiled back at her, and it was filled with a promise.

“Get out of my way,” she screeched and tried to get to the door.

I stopped her, my dagger pressing against her chest. “I should have clarified,” I spoke softly. “When I said you weren’t leaving this room, I meant ever.”