Chapter 65: The Puppet Queen

\- SELENE

I reached the top of the grand staircase, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath.

As I started my descent, the roar of conversation in the foyer didn't just fade—it snapped shut. It was like someone had cut a wire. One by one, heads turned, and all eyes locked on me in awe. I could feel the collective weight of their stares, a mixture of shock and primal curiosity. They expected the broken, discarded Luna everyone had been whispering about; instead, they got a woman in bruised-purple silk who looked like she owned every inch of the marble beneath her feet.

The double doors to the grand hall swung open, and the wall of noise from the party inside hit me. But even there, the ripple of silence followed me.

Kaelen didn't need me here for my opinion. He didn’t need me for my wit or my "fire." He needed a prop. With Vireya tucked away in the potting shed—"recovering in her chambers" according to the official lie—he needed a Luna to stand by his side so the neighbors wouldn't think the Alpha of the Silver Ridge was losing his grip.

I started to mingle, moving through the crowd like a ghost in a pretty dress.

"Luna Selene, you look... striking," Alpha Thorne muttered, bowing his head just enough to be polite. He was a mountain of a man, smelling of pine and old blood. "The rumors of your illness were clearly exaggerated."

"Rumors usually are, Thorne," I said, my voice smooth as glass. "I find that people only see what they want to see."

I moved past him before he could dig deeper. I didn't want to talk. I wanted to listen.

The hall was filled with the heavy hitters—high-ranked Alphas from the surrounding territories. Men who usually spent their time trying to tear each other's throats out were now sipping aged scotch and nodding in agreement. It was unnatural.

I drifted toward a group near the tall arched windows, pretending to admire the moonlight while my ears caught every sharp word.

"...unprecedented," a lean wolf from the Northern Reach was saying, his voice a low rumble. "Kaelen’s proposal for the 'Continental Peace Accord'—it actually makes sense. If we stop the border skirmishes, trade opens up. We all get richer."

"He’s managed to gather everyone," another added, swirling his drink. "If he pulls this off, the land will finally be stable. No more rogue attacks, no more wasted silver."

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. Peace. It was a beautiful word, a word people died for. But Kaelen didn't do anything for "peace." He did things for power.

My mind flashed to the map I’d memorized—the one hidden in my corset. It wasn't just a map of escape routes. It was a strategic blueprint. Those "trade routes" Kaelen was proposing? They lined up perfectly with the ancient ley lines and the hidden silver deposits. He wasn't building a peaceful coalition; he was building a supply chain for a war he hadn't started yet. He was positioning his "allies" exactly where he needed them to be so he could cut their throats the moment the ink on the treaty was dry.

The map showed more than just points; it showed the veins of the land. High-vantage outposts disguised as "waystations." Narrow passes labeled as "neutral zones" that were actually perfect kill boxes.

He was a genius. A monster, but a genius.

"Admiring the view, darling?"

The voice was right in my ear. I didn't jump—I wouldn't give him the satisfaction—but my skin prickled. Kaelen stepped up beside me, his hand sliding firmly around my waist. His thumb hooked into the silk of my dress, pressing just hard enough to remind me who was in charge.

"It’s a lovely night for a masquerade," I said, looking him dead in the eye.

"It’s not a masquerade," he countered, his smile not reaching his eyes. "It’s a new era."

He didn't leave my side after that. For the rest of the evening, he was a shadow. He played the part of the doting, proud mate to perfection. Every time an Alpha approached, Kaelen would draw me closer, his hand never leaving my hip.

"Alpha Kaelen, your Luna is as sharp as they say," Alpha Vance remarked, leaning in. "She seems to have a keen interest in the border discussions."

"She’s always been observant," Kaelen said, his voice dropping into that smooth, clinical purr. He squeezed my waist, a silent warning. "But she knows her place is here, keeping the heart of the Ridge beating."

The guests were eating it up. I could see the looks they exchanged—admiration, envy, respect. To them, we were the ultimate power couple. They didn't see the bruises under the makeup. They didn't see the way my hands shook when I wasn't holding a glass.

"You’re doing beautifully," Kaelen whispered as we moved toward the buffet. "Keep this up, and I might actually let you out of that room more often."

"Don't do me any favors," I snapped under my breath, my smile fixed and frozen. "I’m only here because Vireya can't handle the smell of expensive cologne without fainting."

His grip tightened, his fingers digging into my hip bone. "Careful, Selene. You’re playing a dangerous game."

"I learned from the best."

We stood by the fireplace, the center of attention. Every time I tried to drift away to overhear more about the "neutral zones," Kaelen would pull me back. He was a leash made of silk and iron.

"Look at them," I heard a Luna from a minor pack whisper to her husband. "They look so... connected. You can tell he’s completely taken with her lately. Have you seen the way he looks at her?"

I wanted to laugh. I caught my reflection in a silver tray. I looked like a Luna. I looked like a queen. But underneath the silk, tucked into the laces of my corset, was the map to his downfall.

"The guests are admiring us, Kaelen," I said, tilting my head toward the crowd. "Don't ruin the performance."

He let out a short, sharp bark of a laugh and pulled me back into his side. "You’re a piece of work, Selene. I truly think I might keep you around longer than I planned."

"We'll see about that," I whispered.

The clock in the hall struck midnight. The first day was almost over.