Chapter 163 CHAPTER 163
Dinner at the Hale house had become almost unbearable.
The three of them sat around the small wooden table in the dimly lit dining room, the oil lamp casting long shadows against the walls. Cedric ate in silence as he always did, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes lowered to his plate as though the food required deep concentration. Hilda, on the other hand, was glowing with a kind of restless excitement that Anna had come to dread over the past few weeks.
“It’s only a matter of time,” Hilda said brightly, barely pausing between bites. “Princess Lisa cannot possibly forget all the good we’ve done for her.”
Anna stabbed her food harder than necessary.
“We rescued her from the forest,” Hilda continued, smiling as though she were recounting a heroic legend. “She could have died out there. We brought her into our home. We fed her. We clothed her. We raised her.”
Cedric glanced at his wife, a faint crease forming between his brows, but he said nothing. He simply resumed chewing, his expression neutral.
Anna gave her mother a slow side look, disbelief burning quietly in her chest. Was that truly how Hilda remembered it now? A noble rescue? A generous upbringing? Every conversation these days circled back to Lisa. When we see her again. When she comes to visit. When she forgives us. It was as though her mother had rewritten the past entirely and chosen to live inside that version.
“She will forgive us,” Hilda said confidently, her voice warm with certainty. “She will see that we were her saviors. And when she does, she will reward us. That is only right.”
Cedric shifted slightly in his seat but kept his eyes on his plate.
“I can’t believe,” Hilda went on, leaning back with a dreamy sigh, “that I once wanted to be Luna. Turns out the goddess had something much greater planned for me.”
She laughed softly and clapped her hands together in delight.
“I am the mother of the Lycan princess,” she declared proudly. “That places me far above the Luna of Silverpine. I cannot wait until they grant us our official titles.”
Cedric did not respond. He did not look up.
“What do you think, darling?” Hilda pressed, turning toward him expectantly.
Silence answered her.
She did not seem to notice. Her smile only widened as she tested the words aloud. “Lady and Lord Hale. Doesn’t that have a beautiful ring to it?”
The fork in Anna’s hand struck her plate with a sharp metallic clang.
She pushed her chair back abruptly, the legs scraping harshly against the floor.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Hilda asked, blinking in surprise. “Aren’t you hungry? Where are you going?”
“Suddenly, I’m not hungry,” Anna replied flatly as she rose to her feet. “I need some air.”
“At this hour?” Hilda asked, a faint note of disapproval creeping into her voice.
“I’m not a child,” Anna said as she grabbed her jacket from the hook by the door. “And besides, what danger could there possibly be in Silverpine?”
Cedric finally spoke, though his tone remained indifferent. “Just be back before bedtime.”
Anna did not answer. She pulled the door open and let it slam behind her.
The cool night air hit her face and immediately eased the tightness in her chest. She began walking without direction, boots striking the dirt path harder than necessary. The pack houses were quiet, most windows dimly lit. The moon hung low above the tree line, casting a pale silver glow across the familiar road.
Her mother had completely lost herself.
Lady Hale. Lord Hale.
Anna let out a humorless breath. The idea was absurd. Did Hilda truly believe that Princess Lisa would ever step foot inside that house again? After the way she had been treated? After the years of humiliation and bitterness?
The thought made Anna’s stomach twist.
She walked farther than she intended, nearing the edge of the forest without quite realizing it. The trees stood dark and still, their branches whispering softly in the breeze.
That was when she heard it.
A low sound, barely noticeable at first.
She paused.
Another sound followed - breathless, uneven, almost like a suppressed moan.
Anna’s irritation faded, replaced by curiosity.
The sound was coming from the woods.
She tilted her head slightly, listening more carefully. The noises grew clearer. Rustling leaves. Labored breathing.
A slow smile spread across her face.
Of course.
A secret sexcapade in the forest? The thought amused her immediately. Scandal always traveled fast, and she was not above using information to her advantage.
An idea formed quickly.
She slipped her phone out of her jacket pocket and pressed record. The faint glow of the screen lit her face briefly before she dimmed it.
Moving carefully now, she stepped off the path and into the trees. She parted branches slowly, placing each foot deliberately to avoid making noise. The sounds became louder as she approached - soft groans, heavy breathing, fabric shifting against skin.
Her grin widened.
She pushed aside one final branch and leaned forward.
Then the grin disappeared.
Sarah was crouched over a boy.
Anna recognized him immediately. He was one of the Silverpine guards, strong and broad-shouldered, known for his loyalty to the Alpha. Both of them were partially undressed, and for a split second Anna felt a thrill of triumph.
This was exactly what she had hoped for.
A scandal.
If she played her cards right, this would earn her a lifetime of favors from Sarah. She would take the video and keep it safely stored. Later, when the timing was perfect, she would show it to Sarah and make her understand the situation. Either Sarah would do as she asked - whatever she asked - or Anna would send the footage straight to Sebastian. The Silverpine guard involved would be ruined, and Sarah’s reputation would collapse with him.
Anna almost smiled at how simple it would be.
This was power.
This was leverage.
But then she saw the light.
Sarah’s mouth was open over the boy’s, but it was not a kiss. It was something else entirely. A faint, glowing stream of pale light was flowing from the boy’s mouth into hers, drawn steadily as though pulled by invisible force.
The boy’s body lay limp beneath her.
His eyes were closed.
He did not move.
Anna felt her stomach drop.
Sarah’s face looked unnatural in the moonlight. Her jaw stretched wider than it should have, her eyes faintly illuminated as she fed. There was nothing tender about the scene. Nothing human.
Anna’s breathing became shallow.
This was not romance.
This was not gossip.
This was wrong.
She began to step backward slowly, careful not to disturb the leaves beneath her feet.
Her heel came down on a dry stick.
It snapped.
The sound echoed far louder than it should have.
Sarah’s head jerked upward immediately. The glowing stream vanished in an instant. Her eyes scanned the darkness sharply, alert and searching.
Anna dropped to the ground and crawled into the nearest cluster of bushes, pressing herself flat against the earth. She tried to make herself smaller than she had ever felt in her life. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain it would give her away.
She held her breath.
Sarah rose slowly from the unconscious guard. For a moment, Anna was certain she would come searching through the trees.
Instead, Sarah moved with quick, efficient calm. She adjusted her clothing, buttoned her dress, smoothed her hair back into place as though resetting herself. Her expression shifted, the hunger vanishing as easily as the light had.
Without looking back at the boy, she turned and disappeared into the forest.
Anna remained frozen long after she was gone.
The guard still lay motionless on the ground.
The woods were silent again, as though nothing had happened.
Then reality crashed into her all at once.
Her lungs burned from holding her breath. Her hands began to tremble violently. A wave of adrenaline surged through her body so fast it made her dizzy.
She pushed herself up and stumbled backward before turning and running.
Branches scratched against her arms and face as she forced her way through the trees. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, fear wrapping itself around her thoughts in a tight, suffocating grip.
She ran harder, not caring about the path, not caring about direction. The image of that pale light flowing from the guard’s mouth replayed in her mind over and over again.
She did not slow down.
She did not think.
She just ran.