Chapter 11 11
Aurélie POV
“And not the fact that you haven’t truly gotten over Damien.”
Fabrice’s words hit me like a slap, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs. My fingers curl instinctively, balling into tight fists on my thighs as if that alone could keep the fury from clawing up my throat, from overtaking my wolf.
“Gotten over Damien?” The disbelief twists out of me in a bitter laugh, a sneer scraping along my tongue. If my hands weren’t anchored to my lap, they would already be tangled in my hair, trying to pull out the image that flashes behind my eyes
The silver blade gleaming in the dim light.
The same blade buried in my mother’s chest.
My father’s severed head lying mere feet away, his blood soaking into the soil of our home.
The nausea rises so fast it burns, sour and sharp, and I force myself to breathe slowly, deeply, until I can swallow the bile.
“He murdered my parents. He butchered innocent pack members. How the hell could I ‘get over’ that?” My voice fractures, lowering into something raw. “Why would I? Who could?” The last words fade into a whisper, more to myself than to him a quiet reminder of the vow etched into my bones.
Damien didn’t love the way I did. He didn’t feel the way I did.
He was an Alpha forged from ice and ambition cold, merciless, untouchable.
So my revenge couldn’t be loud and reckless. It had to be patient, relentless. A dismantling of his power piece by piece, until the kingdom he built trembled beneath him.
“Aurélie…” Fabrice’s voice is gentler now, almost pleading. “This isn’t who you are. For four years I’ve held my tongue, but I don’t want to watch you drown in hatred. Your parents wouldn’t want this for you. And the bigger Darkvale grows, the more attention you draw. Damien will come. He’ll want to meet the Alpha challenging his authority. When that day comes… will you be ready to face him?”
He releases my feet, letting them rest on his lap. His gaze searches mine, burning, demanding an answer I can’t give not because I don’t want to, but because I simply don’t know. I have imagined confronting Damien a thousand times, yet the reality of it… the reality terrifies me in ways I refuse to admit out loud.
I don’t want to talk about this. It’s a conversation he’s tried to have countless times, and my answer has never changed. The longer time passes, the deeper the anger sinks its claws into me. It gnaws at something inside me something that used to be soft, warm, human.
“Did the two packs we contacted send a reply yet?” I ask abruptly, shifting us back into safer territory pack business, strategy, anything but this.
Fabrice exhales heavily, the sound filled with resignation. He stands, gently moving my legs from his lap before heading toward the kitchen.
“One pack has agreed. They’ve pledged full support moving forward. The second… they’re delaying. Watching. Waiting. If they join us, they know they’ll eventually stand against the Bloodnight Pack.”
“Cowards,” I hiss, disgust curling like smoke in my chest.
“Aurélie,” he says sharply, calling out my tone but I ignore it.
“If they’re too afraid to even consider breaking away from the Alpha King, then they’re useless to us. Tell them it’s too late.”
His sigh is long, heavy, almost disappointed.
“No, Fabrice. If they can’t stand with power, they’ll be devoured by Damien or by me. Neutrality isn’t safety. It’s surrender. And I have no space for half-hearted alliances.” My voice is calm but cold when I rise from the sofa. “If they want to sit on the fence, they should be prepared to fall from it.”
With that, I turn to check on the children, leaving Fabrice behind in the fading quiet because I have no room left in my life for fear, softness, or indecision.
Only purpose. Only survival. Only vengeance.