Chapter 46— The Trial
Tia didn’t sleep that night.
The moon had dipped low, pale against the bruised sky, when she finally rose from her bed, clutching the tiny bottle she had stolen from Rhianna’s kitchen. The pills clinked faintly inside—small, white, and perfectly innocent-looking. But Tia knew better. Nothing that made Rhianna’s hands tremble like that was innocent.
By morning, her decision was made.
She went straight to the western wing of the packhouse, where Hardin was. The hall was loud with warriors reporting after patrols, but she slipped through the crowd until she spotted him near the long oak table, his back to the light, discussing something with his Beta.
“Hardin,” she called.
He turned, his usual calm expression giving way to faint surprise. “Tia. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Can we talk? Privately.”
The tone of her voice made him frown. Without hesitation, he dismissed his Beta with a nod and led her into the quiet of his study. The room was filled with parchment maps, battle reports, and the lingering scent of pine and smoke.
Once the door closed, Tia didn’t waste a second. She pulled the bottle from her pocket and set it on his desk with a sharp click.
“She’s hiding something,” she said. “Rhianna. And this is the proof.”
Hardin’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, fingers brushing the glass. “What is this?”
“She said they were vitamins. But they’re not.”
He tilted the bottle, letting the light catch the label—just faint enough to make out the faded markings. For a moment, his expression flickered, something unreadable passing through his eyes.
“You’ve seen this before,” Tia said quickly, catching it. “Haven’t you?”
Hardin was silent for a heartbeat too long. Then he set the bottle down carefully. “A long time ago,” he admitted. “I thought… it was nothing serious. She told me they were prescribed to help her sleep.”
Tia folded her arms. “That’s exactly what she told me. Except—she lied. And you know she lied.”
Hardin exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s been through a lot. Sebastian, the pressure, the council—”
“This isn’t about Sebastian!” Tia cut in, her voice rising. “You didn’t see her yesterday, Hardin. I did. She looked pale. Tired. When I mentioned the pills, she panicked. And Alden—he’s covering for her.”
Hardin’s gaze sharpened. “Alden?”
“Yes,” Tia said. “I went to him this morning. I asked him about the pills. You know what he said? ‘Ask her yourself.’”
Hardin frowned. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“Exactly.” Tia leaned forward, her eyes fierce. “He knows something. Something he’s not telling us. And Rhianna’s health—whatever it is—it’s getting worse. She’s hiding it, and she’s not strong enough to keep this secret forever.”
Hardin turned the bottle in his hand again, lost in thought. For the first time, the controlled Alpha-in-training looked genuinely uneasy. “If Alden’s hiding something, then it’s bad. He’s a man of rules. He wouldn’t lie unless it meant protecting her.”
“Or protecting the truth,” Tia countered. “What if she’s sick, Hardin? Really sick?”
The question hung in the air.
Hardin looked away, jaw tightening. Memories surfaced—Rhianna fainting during a patrol two years ago, the way her hands sometimes shook after training, how she would brush it off with a soft laugh. The way she always said I’m finewhen she clearly wasn’t.
“I thought she was just fragile,” he said quietly. “I thought maybe her wolf hadn’t awakened because of stress. But if it’s worse than that—”
Tia stepped closer, her voice gentler now. “Then we have to find out before it’s too late.”
He nodded slowly, resolve hardening behind his eyes. “All right. If Alden won’t tell us the truth, we’ll find someone who will.”
“Another healer?”
“Yes. One who isn’t bound to the pack council. There’s a healer near the borderlands, an old woman named Mira. She owes me a favor.”
“Then we take the pills to her,” Tia said.
Hardin nodded, already thinking ahead. “I’ll ride at dawn. You’ll come with me. But not a word of this to anyone—not Sebastian, not Alden, not even Rhianna. If she’s hiding this much, pushing her might do more harm than good.”
Tia hesitated. “You think she’s dying, don’t you?”
Hardin’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want to think it. But I’ve seen that look before. The quiet one—the kind people wear when they’ve already accepted something the rest of us haven’t.”
Silence followed. Outside, the sound of warriors training echoed faintly through the open window.
Tia finally spoke, her voice low. “If she’s truly in danger, she won’t be able to hide it much longer. Whatever she’s fighting… it’s winning.”
Hardin turned toward the window, the morning light catching the scar along his jaw. “Not if I can help it.”
Tia exhaled, a flicker of relief passing through her chest. “So, what now?”
He looked back at her, the decision already made in his eyes. “Now,” he said, “we start the trial.”
“Trial?”
“A test,” Hardin explained. “We’ll give Mira the pills, ask her to identify what they are, and find out why Rhianna’s taking them. Whatever secret Alden’s guarding—we’ll uncover it. And if anyone stands in our way…” His gaze darkened. “They’ll regret it.”
The determination in his tone made something in Tia’s chest tighten—not fear, but something close to hope. For the first time, she felt like someone was finally ready to fight for Rhianna the way she deserved.
She nodded. “Then I’ll prepare the horses.”
As she left the room, Hardin turned the bottle over one last time. The faint sound of the pills shifting inside echoed in the silence.
He didn’t know what they were. But something in his gut told him the truth was darker than either of them imagined.
And if Rhianna was dying…
He’d find a way to stop it.
Even if it meant going against the Moon Goddess herself.