Chapter 30 Fake Apologies
Aurelia
The mark changed everything. After Zhayad revealed it in the council chamber, raw, there was no hiding from it.
The whispers came first, slithering through the halls before I did. Then came the stares. They followed me everywhere, tracking my movements, waiting for me to slip.
Heads turned every time I passed. Eyes often lingered on the glow at my chest, the mark pulsing faintly above every neckline I dared to wear.
Some looked at me with awe, while some with hunger. Others with hatred so sharp it nearly cut.
I felt their attention like hands on my skin, probing, weighing, wanting.
The unmated males were the worst. Ugh. Their nostrils flared when I walked by, their breath hitching as if the scent of me burned.
Their fists clenched whenever they saw me, their jaws locking tight with a frustration they could not voice.
The Moon Goddess's mark on me now meant I was sacred, fertile, and untouchable.
And it was driving them mad. The tension had been building for days. It finally snapped one morning at breakfast.
The long table sagged beneath platters of roasted meat, warm bread, bowls of steaming eggs. A feast meant for unity, heavy instead with unspoken hostility.
Zhayad sat at the head, silent and watchful. His presence alone kept most tongues leashed.
I sat beside him, forcing myself to eat, though every bite tasted like scrutiny.
Ravina chose that moment to strike. She placed her goblet down with exaggerated care, the soft clink ringing too loud in the sudden hush.
When she spoke, her voice was smooth, honeyed, venomous, and perfectly pitched for every ear at the table.
“Alpha,” she said sweetly, her lips curving, “does it not trouble you that your Luna has yet to take in?”
My fingers went numb. The spoon slipped from my grasp and struck the porcelain plate with a sharp clatter, an ugly sound that shattered the quiet like breaking glass.
Irina snorted loudly for the whole table to hear, her eyes glittering with cruel amusement.
The room froze, and every head turned toward Zhayad.
He didn’t even look at Ravina. His fork continued its unhurried path to his mouth. He chewed once, then swallowed.
Ravina’s smile vanished just for a heartbeat, but I saw it. Irina’s smirk widened, anticipating an outburst that never came. Zhayad reached for his goblet and took a slow sip of wine, then set it down with care.
Only then did he speak. “If my mate carries my pup or not,” he said evenly, “it’s no one’s concern but mine.”
“But Alpha,” Ravina pressed, her smile sharpening, “if she were a shifter like us, she would be pregnant by now. The court is already whispering that the Moon Goddess’s choice is… flawed.”
A ripple moved through the table. Almost every shifter was sneering and snickering, and I refused to look at them.
Irina leaned in, her eyes bright with cruelty. “She represents fertility now,” she added lightly. “Isn’t it ironic that she has nothing to show for it?”
I opened my mouth, to defend myself, to speak up, but something inside me whispered wait.
Another voice cut in first. A blonde shifter beside Irina leaned forward, eager to join the party. “What if witches can’t take in at all?” she said. “I’ve heard they don’t conceive like we do. Most are barren. And the few who do take in?” She shrugged. “They miscarry. Again and again, until maybe one survives.”
The whispers swelled until they drowned everything else.
I lowered my head, my hands clenched in my lap, waiting, begging for Zhayad to speak.
“Is that true?” Ravina’s voice rose, sharp with panic. “If so, we can’t allow it! We’ll be the laughingstock of every other pack!”
That was it.
I shoved my chair back and stood. The scrape echoed louder than their voices. I lifted my head and shot them a glare, cold, scathing, and unfiltered.
Then I walked out. They didn’t deserve a word. Not a syllable.
My chest burned as I left the dining hall behind. How could Zhayad sit there and let them tear me apart? Let them reduce me to whispers and speculation?
I wasn’t a shifter, and so what? They hated me now for one reason only. The Moon Goddess had chosen me. And not a single one of them could stand it.
I had just reached the stairs when Irina’s voice stopped me cold.
“Dear Luna,” she said, overly gentle, “I sincerely apologize for speaking to you in the manner I did. It was unruly of me. I don’t know what came over me. I beg for your mercy.”
The words were polished, like that of an actress.
I turned, and my breath caught at the sight that greeted me.
Shifter guards stood behind her, their hands firm on her shoulders, forcing her to her knees. Beside her, the blonde shifter knelt as well, her head bowed, eyes locked to the floor.
Zhayad stood a short distance away, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone.
“And you,” he said coolly, “where is your apology, Mirvina?”
The blonde shifter swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Luna. I never intended to disrespect your status as the Moon Goddess’s chosen. It will not happen again.” Her shoulders trembled under the guards’ grip.
I looked at Zhayad. His gaze never left them.
He had acted swiftly, decisively. While I’d been drowning in hurt, he had already drawn the line.
Shame warmed my chest. I’d judged him too quickly.
Zhayad’s voice cut through the hall.
“Go to the Luna,” he ordered. “And kiss her knuckles.”
They rose quickly, climbing the stairs to reach me. They took my hands themselves, and as Irina brought my knuckles to her lips, she twisted my forefinger.
My eyes widened, pain shooting up my arm.
“If you ever think I'll ever respect you or treat you like the Luna you're not, then you must be dreaming, because I will never fall at the feet of an abomination like you.” Her voice was low, but the iciness rang clear like a bell.
Mirvina spat on my knuckles while pretending to kiss my hand.
They were testing my limits, but I would never break before these vipers.