Chapter 92 Ninety five
“I warned you she’d lose control.”
Renna’s voice cut through the dim chamber before Elder Theron even reached the table. She didn’t bother to hide the satisfaction in her tone. She stepped out from behind one of the marble pillars, arms crossed, blonde hair spilling over her shoulders like a halo designed to mislead. The candles burned low around them, casting long shadows along the council walls.
Theron shut the door behind him with a firm hand, his expression tight. “Do not be smug, Renna. This is not the time.”
“Oh, please.” She walked toward him with slow, precise steps, her heels echoing across the stone floor. “Everything is unfolding exactly as I said it would. The curse is getting worse. Ryder is becoming a threat. And Sienna, well…” She tapped a finger to her lips. “She’s unraveling.”
Theron’s jaw ticked. He was a tall man, broad at the shoulders, his once-dark hair streaked with silver. Power clung to him like a second skin; people bowed with a glance. But Renna had never bowed. Not to him. Not to anyone.
“The Queen is stronger than you think,” he said finally. “Her power grows each day. The more she embraces the goddess’s mark, the harder she becomes to control.”
“That is exactly why we must act now.” Renna lowered her voice. “Before she becomes unstoppable.”
Theron took a slow breath, steadying himself. “What exactly are you proposing?”
Renna allowed a slow smile to form. “A story.”
Theron frowned. “A story?”
“Yes,” she purred. “People don’t need truth. They need fear. They need something to cling to when the world starts shifting beneath them.” She walked around him, trailing a finger along the edge of the council table. “We will give them a tale that spreads like wildfire. A tale that pits them against the monster lurking in their midst.”
“Ryder.”
She nodded once. “Ryder.”
Theron folded his hands behind his back. “The people loved him once. Some still do. A king fallen to a curse evokes sympathy.”
“Then we change that sympathy.” Renna tilted her head. “We make them believe he wants the throne back. That he plans to overthrow Sienna. That he came here tonight to kill her.”
Theron’s eyes narrowed. “That rumor could cause panic.”
“Good,” she said simply.
He turned away from her, pacing toward the long windows overlooking the courtyard. The moonlight spilled across his face, revealing the worry etched into his features. “Instability is dangerous.”
“That’s the point,” Renna replied, the sweetness in her voice slipping. “Sienna reigns because people think she’s fit to lead. We show them she’s losing control, we show them Ryder is a danger to her and to them, and the council will have every right to intervene.”
Theron looked back at her sharply. “You want to dethrone her.”
Renna’s eyes gleamed. “I want balance restored. The packs need stability. A Queen who holds divine power she cannot control is not stability.”
He gave her a long, assessing stare. “And Ryder? What becomes of him under your plan?”
Renna shrugged lightly. “He will be declared a threat. Hunted. Eliminated, if needed. The people will demand it.”
Theron didn’t speak for several seconds. Renna waited, perfectly still, hands clasped behind her back, her face an unreadable mask. She had learned patience in the elder councils. She had learned how men stalled when they doubted their strength.
“You want Sienna to fall,” Theron said quietly. “You want her broken.”
Renna’s icy eyes flickered. “Sienna walked into this role half-formed. A girl playing queen in a palace built for actual rulers. She doesn’t have the spine for the weight she carries. The packs see it. The guards see it. Her own shadow sees it.”
Theron arched a brow. “And you think you can do better?”
Renna smiled slowly. “I think I can do what she cannot.”
Theron exhaled, turning toward the window again. Renna knew he was weighing each word, testing risks, calculating outcomes. He was a man of measured decisions, not rash ones.
“We proceed carefully,” he said at last. “One misstep and the people will see through us.”
Renna stepped closer, slipping beside him to stare out into the night. “We make sure there are no missteps.” Her voice dropped lower, her breath warm against his ear. “I’ll handle the whispers. The council will handle the declaration. And Sienna will be forced to choose between surrendering her throne… or condemning Ryder.”
Theron’s eyes hardened. “She will choose him.”
Renna laughed softly, almost pitying. “Not anymore. He’s becoming toxic to her power. Every time he’s near, she weakens. And she knows it. So does he.”
Theron turned sharply. “How do you know that?”
“I have… sources.” She played with a ring on her finger, avoiding his eyes.
“Renna,” he warned.
She sighed dramatically. “Fine. The priestesses gossip. The guards gossip. The walls gossip. Half the Citadel felt the curse flare tonight. Whatever bond they share is turning into a weapon.”
“And you intend to force her hand.”
“I intend to protect the realm,” Renna corrected, her tone cold. “Sienna will renounce him to save him. It’s the kind of heartbreak she’s built for.”
Theron studied her again. “And after?”
“After?” Renna blinked as if the question surprised her. “She’ll be Queen. But weakened. And we will have control over her decisions.”
Theron’s jaw flexed. “You want to be Luna Regent.”
“At minimum.”
He shook his head. “Some will oppose this.”
“Let them.” Her smile sharpened. “Fear convinces faster than loyalty.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he walked back to the large map spread across the table and placed both hands on its surface. The Citadel, the packs, the borderlands, they stretched beneath his fingertips like a kingdom waiting to be rearranged.
“What about Ryder’s supporters?” he asked calmly. “They could revolt.”
Renna’s grin widened. “We give them something better than revolt.”
“And what is that?”
“A false hope,” she murmured. “Let them believe he still has a chance to reclaim something. Let them fight for an illusion. While we move the real pieces behind the scenes.”
Theron shook his head slowly. “You’re ruthless.”
“You say that like it’s a flaw.”
Just then, a faint vibration rippled through the walls. Both of them froze. The candles flickered violently. A low, unfamiliar hum rose beneath their feet.
Renna’s brows drew together. “What was that?”
Theron stepped toward the door, expression darkening. “The curse. It’s flaring again.”
Renna followed, her eyes alive with something fierce and hungry. “Good. Fear travels faster on nights like this.”
He paused, hand on the door handle. “Are you certain Sienna will renounce him?”
Renna tilted her head, the corners of her lips lifting. “She loves him. And love makes people do stupid things.”
Theron stared at her, weighing her words.
The hum faded… but something else replaced it. A distant noise carried through the stone corridors, guards shouting, a woman’s gasp, a surge of frantic footsteps.
Renna stiffened. “What now?”
Theron opened the door, and a messenger nearly collided with him, breathless and pale.
“Elder Theron, Renna, the Queen, she, ”
“Spit it out,” Renna snapped.
“She’s outside!” the guard gasped. “The Queen is in the garden, and she’s not alone.”
Renna’s entire body went still. Her eyes narrowed.
“With who?” she demanded.
The guard swallowed, trembling. “The cursed Alpha.”
Renna’s lips curved slowly, dangerously.
“Perfect.”