Chapter 3: Pitiful Act
1519 Words
Chapter 3: Pitiful Act
(Celeste's POV)
The guest room they had given me felt like a cell dressed up in fine fabric. Polished furniture gleamed, and an ornate chandelier cast a warm glow over everything.
It was a far cry from the damp, dank cell I'd called home for the past four years. But it wasn't mine, not my old room.
"What's to think? An imposter doesn't deserve to live in the Alpha's daughter's room." I laughed to myself at my own obsession.
I walked over and sat on the edge of the overly soft mattress, my hands clutching the thin wool blanket that was neatly spread over it. The soft ticking of a nearby clock fills the silence, each tick reminding me of my current situation.
I recall my old room, full of life and vigor. The walls were painted silver and white, the color as soft as moonlight because of the addition of moonstone. The shelves on either side were filled with books on various aspects of wolf history.
At night, moonlight shines through the large windows, illuminating the lush moonflower garden outside. My favorite moonflower blooms only during the full moon, its petals glowing faintly against the night sky, its essence empowering the wolves and heightening our instincts.
That garden had been my playground when I was happy, my refuge when I was sad but now it was Scarlett's, all hers.
Now, I was surrounded by winter roses. Dying ones.
Out in the small, lifeless yard that this guest room faced, forlorn bushes swayed lightly in the wind, their withered petals fanned across the dirt like whispers of long-lost beauty.
It was fitting.
The girl who once lived in that garden full of moonflowers was the darling of the entire Pack, once cherished by all, loved by all, respected by all. But now, that girl no longer exists
There was also a beautiful rose-colored gown on the bed, once my favorite color and style. But I just picked it up and looked at it, folded it and put it back.
A knock on the door startled me. I stiffened immediately, my body instinctively bracing for—well, for anything.
"Come in," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
The door creaked open, and in walked a wolf. Silver hair cropped short, sharp gray eyes, and a stance that screamed an elite warrior. The Winters insignia was stitched crisply onto her black uniform.
"You're Nina, correct?" I asked, already knowing the answer. My gaze narrowed.
She nodded, her movements precise. "I've been assigned to assist you, Miss Celeste."
Assist? No, this wasn't assistance. This was surveillance. I could see it in the way her eyes flicked over me, memorizing every detail—noting the angle of my shoulders, the tension in my posture.
If Lucas had sent her, it wasn't without purpose.
"That's very kind of you. But I don't need help," I said curtly, folding my trembling hands in my lap to hide their weakness.
Her expression didn't waver. "My orders are to remain with you."
Her voice was steady. Neutral, even. But I detected the sharp undertone of duty—it wasn't about what I wanted but what Lucas demanded.
Cold fury sparked deep in my chest, but I held it back. Arguing with her would only waste my energy.
"So, what? You're here to report everything I say and do back to my dear brother?"
Something flickered in her eyes—surprise? It was gone before I could tell.
"I'm here to ensure your safety," she replied evenly.
I laughed bitterly. Safety. No one had ensured my safety when I begged for help in that prison. When the icy silver chains burned my arms, when my wolf whimpered and shrank under poisons designed to cripple her.
My wolf stirred faintly, whimpering beneath my skin. She was too weak to snarl or protest.
I met Nina's guarded gaze, letting my violet eyes shimmer faintly under the room's dim light. "Fine. Do your job. But don't expect gratitude."
Her lips quirked slightly—a grim sort of acknowledgment—before she stepped aside and gestured to the door. "The Elder is waiting to meet you."
Grandmother. A pang of longing swelled in my chest. But before I could say anything, I caught something else. Heavy footsteps approaching.
Lucas.
He stormed through the open doorway, his presence an immediate assault on the room. His jaw was tense, his green eyes blazing with impatience—or anger. Likely both.
My stomach churned.
"What is this?" he demanded, his voice sharp. His emerald gaze raked over me, narrowing at my worn, frayed prison uniform. "You're going to see Grandmother like this?"
I clenched my fists, my nails digging faint crescents into my palm. "This is what I have."
"You're doing this on purpose," he hissed, stepping closer, his wolf barely restrained beneath his skin. His golden energy radiated, oppressive and suffocating.
"Excuse me?" I said flatly, standing my ground despite the tremble in my legs.
"Don't act stupid," Lucas snapped. "It's a manipulation. You're trying to wring sympathy out of her. Out of all of us."
Everything inside me twisted. Manipulation? Him, of all people, accusing me of manipulation? After everything—
"Careful," I warned, my voice tight and low.
But he didn't stop. He loomed closer, the heat of his frustration building in the already tense room. "Do you think this—this pitiful act—makes you righteous? That it erases the fact Scarlett suffered for you? That—"
"Stop," Nina interjected firmly, stepping between us. Her movement wasn't aggressive, but there was strength in her stance.
It was too late, though.
"Celeste, how dare you?"
Overwhelmed by Lucas's alpha power, my wounded wolf, reacted instinctively to his power. Despite her tattered soul's attempts at defense, it quickly succumbs to the power of Lucas' wolf.
Lucas' impact was so strong that I tried to stagger back, but soon my knees gave out and I lost feeling in my legs before I could react with protection.
I flopped heavily to the floor.
Pain instantly hit my entire body as my already weakened body hit the cold floor. My hands trembled as I held onto the floor in an attempt to get myself up, but the cuts on my wrists and arms hurt even more, and I didn't have enough strength to get myself up.
A sharp intake of breath sounded from the doorway.
"Lucas!"
Victoria's voice sliced through the charged air like a whip. She pushed past him, her eyes wild with fury.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, kneeling beside me.
"Mother, look at her, she has been in such a refusing attitude since she came back."
"Are you okay? Celeste," she looks at me with concern and offers me her hand, but I quickly twist away before her hand touches my arm. My heart was pounding and my breathing was rapid and uneven.
"You see, I didn't lie, did I? Mother, she's always had that attitude." Lucas exclaimed.
"Shut up, Lucas." Victoria chided her, "Celeste, why haven't you changed into your new clothes yet?" Victoria asked, her voice soft but urgent, a sharp edge to her gaze in addition to concern.
I stilled. My chest tightened painfully as anger and humiliation boiled beneath my skin. She wanted answers? Fine.
"The clothes you prepared for me are not my size, they are all too small, the sleeves too short to cover these ..."I replied calmly.
I rolled up my sleeves.
The breaths in the room collectively stopped.
Silver scars crisscrossed my arms, the burns angry and jagged even after all this time.
"What—" Victoria started, her hands trembling as they hovered over my scars.
The venom lingered beneath my skin even now, dulling my wolf's ability to heal. The lines shimmered faintly, unnatural and alien against my skin.
I didn't say a word. My silence spoke loud enough.
Tears welled in Victoria's eyes. "No wonder…" Her voice broke. "No wonder you flinch away…"
Her pain cut into me almost as much as the silver chains once had. But I'd long stopped feeling sympathy for her misery.
Scarlett gasped behind her, the sound loud and dramatic.
"Why would they do this to you?" Scarlett's voice trembled, perfectly measured, perfectly false.
I stiffened, refusing to look at her.
"Why?" she asked again, louder this time, as though she was truly horrified.
"Why?" My voice was bitter, the sarcasm in it sharp. "Because I broke the Sacred Moon Crystal."
The room seemed to hold its breath. Even Lucas—always so quick to speak—stayed silent.
"Or so the Alpha King's daughter said," I continued, casting a sharp glance at Scarlett. "And for breaking it, they chose to punish me this way. Prison wasn't enough, apparently."
Scarlett pressed a delicate hand to her lips, her green eyes shimmering with tears as she bowed her head. She looked like the picture of regret, shoulders slouched in self-pity.
But I saw it. That flicker of satisfaction in her gaze before she lowered them.
I wanted to laugh.
- Writer
