Chapter 109 Predator Vs Predator
Vuk Kael Laskovic :
Tears dripped onto the floor in front of her. Her shoulders shook so violently I could hear her teeth chattering between sobs. The other maids looked away, uncomfortable. The guards shifted their weight but stayed silent.
I watched her for a long moment. The raw terror. The genuine breakdown. The confession of prejudice that she could have hidden but didn’t. It all looked real.
But the footage didn’t care about real.
The witnesses didn’t care.
And my mate had almost died.
“Enough,” I said again, voice flat. I looked at the two enforcers by the door. “Take her to the lower cells. Full guard. No visitors. No contact.”
Melinda’s scream tore out of her like something dying. “NO! Alpha—NO! Please! I didn’t do it! Don’t do this! I’m innocent! INNOCENT!”
She scrambled backward, then lunged for the door. Her feet slipped on the wet floor from her own tears. She shoved past one guard, fingers clawing at the handle. The door cracked open an inch before the second guard grabbed her arm.
She twisted free, screaming louder. “HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME! IT WASN’T ME!”
I didn’t shout. I didn’t warn.
My hand moved to the holster at my hip. The pistol came up clean and fast. One shot—center mass.
The crack split the room like thunder.
Melinda jerked mid-stride. Her eyes went wide for half a second—shock, not pain—then she crumpled. Face-first. Blood spread fast beneath her, dark and thick against the gray tile.
The scream died in her throat.
Silence crashed down.
One of the maids gagged. Another turned and vomited into the corner. The guards froze, hands hovering near their own weapons out of pure instinct.
I lowered the gun slowly, barrel still warm.
“Dispose of her,” I told them, voice calm and even. “Then collect every single thing that belonged to her—uniforms, journals, letters, trinkets, anything in her bunk. Bring it all to my office. There has to be a reason this happened. Hatred doesn’t turn into poison without leaving a trail. Find it.”
They moved without a word. Two of them dragged the body out by the arms, leaving a long red smear across the floor. The others followed, faces pale.
I walked out without looking back.
The corridors felt longer on the way to the medical wing..
Maureen was awake when I pushed the door open. She was propped up against pillows, color slowly returning to her cheeks. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw me, but there was still exhaustion in them—deep and heavy.
“Vuk,” she breathed, reaching for my hand. “What happened? Has the person been caught?”
I sat on the edge of the bed and took her fingers gently. They were warm again. Alive. “Yeah. It was Melinda. One of the rank-two maids.”
Her brows drew together. A flicker of genuine confusion crossed her face. “Melinda? But… why? Why would she try to harm me? I never treated her badly. I never…” She exhaled shakily. “Thank the Moon Goddess Celeste came in when she did. Wait—where is she?”
“Hospitalized,” I said quietly. “She took the poison out of you. Drew it straight into her own body to save you.”
Maureen’s eyes widened. Tears welled up instantly. “She did that… for me? After I dismissed her? We owe her everything, Vuk. Everything.”
I nodded once. I kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger there longer than necessary.
“Rest now,” I murmured against her skin. “I’ve got the rest.”
She closed her eyes, trusting me completely.
But inside my chest, the doubt burned hotter than before.
Melinda’s begging had been too real. Her terror too raw. Her confession of simple prejudice too honest for someone who’d just tried to assassinate a Luna.
And yet the evidence had been ironclad.
The only thread that still didn’t fit was the girl lying in the hospital bed right now—the one playing the perfect hero.
Celeste.
I stood up slowly.
The investigation wasn’t finished.
It had only changed direction.
The next morning came too fast. I hadn’t slept more than an hour—Maureen’s steady breathing on the monitor had kept me anchored to her bedside until dawn, but my mind wouldn’t shut off.
Melinda’s final scream still rang in my ears. The smear of blood on the tech-room floor was already cleaned, but the smell lingered in my memory like smoke. I kept replaying her begging, the way her voice had cracked on “I didn’t do it,” the raw terror in her eyes when she saw her own face on the screen. Something about it refused to settle.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand just after sunrise. The pack hospital’s direct line.
“Alpha.” The doctor’s voice was clipped, professional. “Celeste is awake. She’s stable—weak. She asked for water and then… for you. Said she needed to speak with you about what happened.”
I stared at the wall for a beat.
“I’m on my way.”
I kissed Maureen’s forehead before I left—she was still asleep, breathing easy now that the poison was gone—and walked the short corridor that connected the royal wing to the medical block. Every step felt heavier. I had gone in there planning to peel her open like a fruit, to watch her squirm under the weight of my questions. Two predators in one room. One of us was going to bleed.
The door to her private room was already ajar. I pushed it open without knocking.
Celeste lay propped against the pillows, pale as moonlight but composed. The bandage on her temple was fresh, a thin line of red still seeping through. Her eyes—those sharp, calculating eyes I had always noticed—lifted to mine the second I stepped inside. No fear. No panic. Just a quiet, exhausted smile that somehow made the room feel smaller.
“Alpha,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse from the poison she had pulled into herself, but it still carried that velvet edge. “I’m glad you came. I… I needed to see you before the rumors grow worse.”
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, arms folded. Predator stance. “You knew I would. Doctor said you asked for me specifically.”
She nodded once, slow, like even that small movement cost her. “I did. Because I know what you’re thinking. I saw it in your face yesterday when I collapsed. You’re wondering how I knew the poison. How I got there at the exact moment Maureen started coughing. How I could draw it out of her and into me without dying myself.” A faint, self-deprecating laugh escaped her. “You’re wondering if the snake finally bit.”
I didn’t deny it. “The thought crossed my mind.”
Celeste’s gaze never wavered. She reached for the cup of water on the bedside table, hand trembling just enough to look real, not theatrical. She took a sip, then set it down and met my eyes again—straight, unflinching.
“I was never going to let her die,” she said quietly. “Not after everything she did for me. Dismissing me was her right. I had overstepped with Cassian. I knew that. But when I heard the tray shatter and saw the blood… I didn’t think. I just moved. The poison—I recognized it because I’ve seen it before. My mother’s village used something similar on livestock when the wolves got too bold. I learned the counter-spell the hard way, watching people die. I never thought I’d use it on a Luna.”
She paused, letting the silence stretch. Her fingers traced the edge of the blanket, a small, nervous gesture that made her look fragile instead of dangerous.
“I took it into myself because there was no other way. The spell requires a willing vessel. I chose me. If I hadn’t… she would have been gone in minutes. The children would have lost their mother. You would have lost your mate.” Her voice cracked on the last word—just enough. Not dramatic. Real. “I would rather die than let that happen. Even if you still hate me for the past.”
I felt the first crack in my armor. The way she said it—simple, selfless—landed heavier than any denial could have. I pushed off the door and took two steps closer, studying her face for the lie. There was none I could see. Just exhaustion and something softer underneath.
“You expect me to believe you risked your life out of pure loyalty?” I asked, voice low.
Celeste’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t wipe them away. Let them spill. “I know what the footage showed. I know what Melinda said. But I also know what I saw in the servants’ quarters the night before. She was… broken. Angry. She hated that Maureen was southern. She told me herself when I asked for her ID. Said the pack deserved better. I thought it was just talk. I never imagined she would actually—” She stopped, swallowing hard.
She reached out then—slowly, like she was afraid I’d pull away—and touched the back of my hand. Her fingers were ice-cold from the poison still working its way out of her system.
“Alpha… Vuk. I don’t expect you to trust me. I never have. But look at me. I’m lying here because I chose Maureen over myself. I could have let her die and walked away clean. Instead I’m the one with the scar on my temple and the poison burning in my veins. If I wanted her dead, why save her? Why bleed for her? Why beg you to let me try when the doctor said he couldn’t?”
The second crack widened. My own thoughts—sharp, suspicious—started to blur at the edges.
She was right. Every move she had made since the collapse had been sacrifice. The dramatic entrance. The self-inflicted wound. The way she had pulled the poison into herself without hesitation. Predators don’t usually throw themselves on the blade for their prey.