Chapter 222 Chapter 222

Chapter 222 Chapter 222
Clara shut the door of her room with trembling hands. Her chest rose and fell heavily as though she had been running for miles. The shadows of the forest still clung to her mind, and Lucien’s cold laughter echoed in her ears.

She leaned against the door, pressing her palms flat against the wood. “What have I done?” she whispered.

For the first time in a long while, Clara felt fear—not of Elara, not of Damien’s anger, but of Lucien. His presence had been suffocating, his power overwhelming. He had looked at her like she was nothing, like her life could end with just a flick of his hand. And yet… he had accepted her.

Clara moved slowly toward the mirror across her room. She stared at her reflection, her eyes still glowing faintly with that strange power she had shown him. She didn’t even understand it fully herself, only that it gave her a weapon. A reason not to be trampled on anymore.

But now, she was caught between two paths.

Lucien wanted Damien dead. He wanted the throne, the entire pack under his command. He didn’t care who stood in his way—Elara, Damien, even the elders. All of them were obstacles to him.

But Clara’s heart burned differently. She didn’t want Damien dead. She wanted him alive, strong, and hers. She wanted to rip Elara out of his arms and stand in her place. She wanted the title of Luna, the love of the Alpha, the respect of the pack.

She clenched her fists. “How can he not see me?” she muttered, her voice rising with bitterness. “How can he look at her, that weak little thing, and call her his everything? I could be better for him. I could give him more. I am stronger, I am sharper, I understand what it means to rule.”

Her thoughts twisted as her anger grew. Images of Elara’s pale face the night she fainted filled her mind. The way Damien had rushed to her side, the way the entire pack had gasped with concern, the way their cheers had thundered when Damien announced the pregnancy.

“Elara this, Elara that,” Clara spat. “Everything is about her. They don’t see her weakness, her fear, her lies. But me? No matter what I do, I am invisible.”

She paced the room, her steps sharp against the wooden floor. Lucien’s words replayed in her head.

‘If you want to join me, then you must prove yourself. I don’t work with cowards.’

Clara shivered. Prove herself. Did that mean betraying Damien? Did that mean handing him over to Lucien’s blade?

Her stomach twisted at the thought. She wanted Elara dead, yes—but Damien? No. She couldn’t imagine him lying lifeless, couldn’t imagine another sitting in his place. She wanted to sit beside him, not watch someone else take his throne.

Her hands curled into her hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. “What do I do? If I follow Lucien, he’ll kill Damien. If I betray Lucien, he’ll kill me.”

She dropped onto the edge of her bed, her face buried in her hands. For the first time in years, Clara felt trapped. She had always thought herself clever, always believed she could twist people to her will. But Lucien was different. He was not someone she could manipulate. He was darkness itself.

Her mind drifted back to the forest, to the moment she had revealed her hidden power. She hadn’t planned to show it, but she had needed him to take her seriously. And he had. For the first time, Lucien had lowered his hand and listened.

But had she made a mistake?

“What if he demands Damien’s blood as my proof?” she whispered into the silence.

Her chest ached at the thought. She didn’t just want Damien alive—she wanted him to love her. Somewhere deep down, she believed he could. That if Elara were gone, if the path was clear, Damien would see her worth. He would finally notice her, finally realize she was the one who truly belonged by his side.

Tears burned her eyes, but they weren’t soft or gentle tears—they were bitter, hot, angry. She slammed her fist into the bed. “I will not let Elara win! She doesn’t deserve him. She doesn’t deserve the pack. Everything should have been mine!”

Her body trembled as she tried to steady her thoughts. She had to think carefully now. One wrong step, and she would lose everything—either to Lucien or to Damien’s fury.

She got up again and went to the window, staring out at the pack lands. Lights flickered from the feast grounds, laughter still carried on the night air. They were all celebrating Elara, not knowing the danger building in the shadows.

Clara’s lips curved into a cold smile. “If only they knew,” she whispered. “If only they knew how close their precious Luna is to falling.”

But then Lucien’s words echoed again in her mind. ‘We plot together.’

Her chest tightened. Did she really want to be bound to him? To become a tool in his bloody game?

No. Clara wanted more than blood. She wanted power, yes—but not through Lucien’s way. She wanted Damien alive, ruling by her side, the pack bowing before her. Lucien wanted destruction.

They were not the same.

But she needed him… for now.

She sank back onto her bed, curling her legs beneath her. “I’ll play along,” she whispered to herself. “I’ll let him think I’m with him. But I’ll choose my moment. When the time is right, I’ll strike my own way. Damien will be mine. Elara will be gone. And Lucien…” she paused, her smile sharp. “Lucien will learn that even darkness can be deceived.”

The thought gave her a strange thrill. For once, she wasn’t just the jealous shadow of Elara. She was Clara, with a secret power, walking a dangerous line between two worlds.

But as she lay down, trying to rest, her body refused to calm. She tossed and turned, her mind alive with schemes, her heart alive with confusion. She saw Damien’s face each time she closed her eyes, the way he had smiled at Elara, the way he had defended her, the way he had touched her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Clara’s nails dug into her palms. “That should have been me,” she hissed.

The night dragged on slowly. By dawn, her eyes were red and swollen, but her mind was clear. She had made her choice.

She would walk the line with Lucien, use his power to weaken Elara, but she would never let Damien fall into his hands.

Damien was hers. Elara was the obstacle. And Lucien… Lucien was just another weapon.

The sun rose over the pack lands, bathing the roofs in golden light. But in Clara’s room, the shadows stayed. And in her heart, a storm brewed—one that would soon decide the fate of everyone around her.