Chapter 40 Chapter 40
Marcus POV
I had outdone myself for Lila’s Luna succession after she told me the job had been carried out. Believing her every word, I didn’t even bother asking for proof that Ethan had been taken out of the picture. All I knew was that he had been stabbed by a trained assassin using a dagger coated in wolfsbane so he would not heal.
There was no way he was supposed to survive an attack like that. Or so I thought.
Because the man I had hoped would be dead by now was sitting beside Damon, Alpha of the Pasquale pack.
I turned on my heel and headed straight for the Luna’s dressing room, where I knew Lila would be. Without knocking, I barged in, not caring if I walked in on something indecent.
“What the hell happened?” I barked.
The ladies in waiting jumped, startled by the hostility in my voice.
“Everyone out!”
They didn’t need to be told twice. Each of them bowed hurriedly and left the room. Lila, for some reason, still looked completely unbothered. She pressed her lips together with a loud smacking sound, as though testing her makeup.
“What has you so worked up again, my dear husband?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the vanity mirror in front of her.
I closed the distance between us in two strides, yanking her up by the arm and forcing her to look at me. Her eyes flashed with anger, but she quickly masked it with a frown.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“How dare you lie to me?”
“Lie? What lie?”
“You told me the job was done. So why the hell is he here?” I sneered, teeth clenched as I struggled to contain my fury.
Her eyes lit with understanding, her gaze flicking briefly to the door before returning to me in disbelief.
“You saw Ethan?”
“What do you think?” I hissed.
“But that’s not possible. He was stabbed in the heart. With wolfsbane, not just any poison.
There’s no way he could have survived that.
My patience snapped. Pulling her along with me, I dragged her into the corridor where she could get a clear view of the hall and the alphas gathered inside, without drawing attention to us.
“If it is not possible, then tell me who that is sitting next to Alpha Damon.”
Her breath caught when her eyes landed on him. She trembled in my grip before turning back to me. “Marcus, I swear I…”
I didn’t let her finish. My hand closed around her throat as I slammed her against the wall.
“This was not the deal we made,” I growled. “I give you a succession ceremony no one will ever forget, and this is how you repay me?”
I tightened my grip, the fear in her eyes doing nothing to extinguish the fire burning through me. She clawed at my hand, trying to force me to let go, but I only held tighter.
Perhaps she had forgotten just how easily I could snuff out her life.
“I trusted you,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I swear, Marcus. Let us talk about this,” she choked out, but I wasn’t listening.
“Stop it, you moron,” Hugo snapped. “You are the one who should be punished, not her. Did you really think it would be that easy to kill an Alpha? Especially one as strong as Ethan?”
Something inside me faltered.
The flames of my rage dimmed, doused by cold clarity. I loosened my grip, though I didn’t release her completely. I needed somewhere to direct my frustration.
“Killing your Luna on her succession day will ruin your image and make you look weak,” Hugo warned. “It will only prove Sophia right.”
“Shut it,” I snapped, forgetting that his voice existed only in my head.
I finally let Lila go. I expected her to flee or call off the succession entirely, but she did neither. She simply stood there, watching me, her expression unreadable.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I muttered internally.
“For now, go along with it,” Hugo replied. “You cannot touch him in front of this many wolves. After the celebration, you can plan. But most importantly, apologize to your Luna.”
I wanted to argue, but he was right. This was not Lila’s fault. She wanted Ethan gone just as badly as I did. If anyone deserved blame, it was the assassin, and I would deal with that later.
For now, appearances mattered.
I reached out and cupped the back of Lila’s neck, drawing her closer. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have hurt you.”
“It is okay,” she replied softly, relaxing into my touch.
I straightened her dress where it had wrinkled beneath my grip, smoothing the fabric as though nothing had happened.
Lila lifted her chin, composure slipping back into place with practiced ease.
If anyone could play the role of the perfect Luna, it was her.
The distant hum of voices from the hall grew louder as we made our way back.
Music drifted through the corridor, deep and ceremonial, woven with the low murmur of hundreds of wolves gathered to witness history.
I slipped my arm around Lila’s waist as we stepped inside.
The room fell silent.
All eyes turned to us. Alphas, betas, envoys from allied packs.
The members of my pack stood tall at the center of the hall, banners draped high above, my sigil gleaming under the chandeliers. This was our moment. Mine and Lila’s.
We walked forward together, our pace slow and deliberate, keeping our heads held up high. I kept my gaze fixed ahead, refusing to look toward the left side of the hall where I knew Ethan sat.
I felt him anyway. His presence pressed against my awareness like a bruise, impossible to ignore.
Worse still was the way Sophia leaned toward him, whispering something beneath her breath. He listened closely, his head tilting toward hers, their shoulders nearly touching.
My jaw tightened.
I forced myself to look away.
This night was not about them. It was about the Shadowmoon pack. About my Luna. About power.
We reached the center of the room, where two elevated thrones awaited us. Mine stood slightly higher, carved from dark obsidian stone.
Lila’s sat beside it, elegant and polished, adorned with silver detailing that caught the light.
Together, we turned and claimed our seats.
A hush settled over the hall.
An elder stepped forward, staff tapping once against the marble floor. He began the rites, his voice steady as he recited the ancient words that bound a Luna to her pack.
I listened with half an ear, nodding at the appropriate moments, my hand resting possessively on Lila’s.
She knelt when instructed, bowing her head as the Shadowmoon wolves pledged their loyalty to her. One by one, voices echoed through the hall, strong and unwavering.
I watched her closely.
This was what she had wanted. Power. Recognition. A crown no one could take from her.
Applause followed, loud and thunderous.
Then came the final ritual.
Two servants approached, each holding an ornate goblet filled with deep red wine. The scent reached me immediately, rich and tempting. This was the bond. The seal that marked the succession as complete.
The gold goblet was handed to me, and the silver was handed to Lila.
I rose first, lifting mine high. “To the Shadowmoon pack,” I said. “And to its new Luna.”
The hall echoed my words.
I drank.
Warmth slid down my throat, the familiar taste easing the tightness in my chest. I lowered the goblet and turned to Lila.
She raised hers next.
“All hail the new Luna,” the elder said. The hall repeated the words.
And then she drank.
At first, nothing seemed wrong.
The hall was already shifting toward the next order of the ceremony when the goblet slipped from her hands, wine spilling across the polished floor.
“Lila?” I asked, reaching for her.
She stared at me, eyes blown wide, clutching her throat as she began to gasp for breath.