A New Ploy

Valerica's POV

After successfully securing Lycan Theron's solemn promise to draft the rejection decree, a crushing weight finally lifted off my chest. I returned to my room in Crimsonmoon and, for the first time in months, I slept soundly. The heavy expectations of this pack no longer held my mind hostage.

But that fragile, hard-won peace shattered early the next morning.

I stood before my vanity, running a brush through my hair, when the heavy wooden door to my bedroom slammed open. The wood cracked against the stone wall. Garrick burst uninvited into my private sanctuary. He did not bother knocking. His oppressive Alpha aura rolled off his broad shoulders, hitting me like a suffocating tidal wave. The sheer physical force of his presence pinned my whining inner wolf beneath its weight, driving the breath from my lungs.

"Valerica!" he roared. His voice carried the guttural, vibrating fury of a half-shifted beast, his amber eyes flashing with a dangerous, feral light.

Odelia, my fiercely loyal Omega maid, immediately rushed to step between us. Her small frame trembled violently under the massive power gap between an Omega and a furious Alpha. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the aura tore at her senses, yet she refused to run.

"Stand down, Odelia," I commanded. My voice sliced through the tension in the room, perfectly calm and smooth as glass.

She stepped back but kept her wide eyes locked on the Alpha. In the quiet space of my mind, my own inner wolf rose to her paws. She shook out her thick snow-white fur, bared her fangs, and pushed back forcefully against his suffocating aura. I shielded myself from his intimidation, refusing to lower my head.

Garrick’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He clearly sensed my silent resistance. "You went directly to the palace yesterday," he stated, his jaw grinding. "You complained to Lycan Theron. You tried to use your dead family to get his decree for Morrigan revoked, didn't you?"

I met his glare, my expression blank. "No," I replied calmly.

He smirked. The expression twisted his face into something vicious and ugly. Deep contempt bled into his harsh words. "Coward much? Is this exactly how the great Glacierclaw Alpha's daughter behaves behind closed doors? Pathetic." He snarled, taking a threatening step forward. His lips curled back to bare his elongated fangs, his eyes reddening with unchecked, mounting frustration. "Speak! What else did you secretly say to Lycan Theron behind my back? Did he agree to revoke the bonding decree?"

Looking down at my perfectly manicured nails, I feigned submission. I deliberately gave him the exact answer his arrogant mind expected to hear. "Lycan Theron didn't agree to anything. The bonding ceremony for you and Morrigan will proceed exactly as planned."

Garrick exhaled sharply. His broad shoulders dropped a fraction, the hostile tension leaving his frame, though his tone remained icy and filled with arrogance. "That sovereign bond was earned through my blood and battle. He summoned me this morning but abruptly refused an audience—probably due to your pathetic theatrics yesterday."

He stepped closer, raising a heavy, armored finger and pointing it inches from my face. "Play nice, Valerica. Stay in your lane and avoid causing any more political drama. Once Morrigan and I are officially bonded, I will eventually get around to ensuring you have pups of your own. That will keep you busy."

Without waiting for a single word of reply to his revolting proposition, he turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving the door wide open.

Odelia immediately collapsed against the stone wall. She buried her face in her hands and burst into heavy tears, weeping bitterly over the degrading injustice of his words.

I merely smiled, a cold, detached curve forming on my lips. "Tears won't change a single thing, Odelia. Stop crying. Let's focus our energy on how to make our immediate future better."

"How can you bear it?" she sobbed. "You give them everything!"

"Because I have never truly mattered to the wolves of Crimsonmoon," I told her, the absolute certainty of that fact grounding me. "They only care about the bottomless Glacierclaw wealth I brought to their failing territory."

It was the ugly truth. My family's assets and the hardworking Omegas who came with me essentially funded this entire pack's existence. I paid out of pocket for Luna Lavinia's obscenely expensive herbal treatments from my shop profits and farmland proceeds. "If I leave, Morrigan is too ruthless; she won't spare our people," I told Odelia firmly. "So they will pack up and follow me home."

Later that day, playing my part to perfection, I visited Luna Lavinia's opulent chambers. The room smelled heavily of medicinal herbs. I found the reclusive Shaman Bramwell carefully treating her chronic illness.

Lavinia rested against her silk pillows and smiled at me with a sickeningly sweet expression. "Morrigan will be arriving very soon," she said, her voice filled with naive optimism. "I truly hope you two will learn to get along like sisters."

I remained stone-faced and silent.

When the treatment ended, I respectfully escorted Bramwell out to the courtyard. Away from Lavinia’s ears, he didn't mince his words. "Crimsonmoon doesn't deserve a single ounce of your kindness, child," he spat, his face wrinkled in disgust. "Don't bother sending for me again. I won't come back to this toxic place."

"I understand completely," I replied, nodding gratefully. "I won't send for you anymore. I'm actively planning to reject Garrick anyway."

Bramwell stopped walking. He stared at me for a second before letting out a hearty, rumbling chuckle. "Now that's the true Glacierclaw spirit I remember. I certainly don't need Crimsonmoon's tainted money. I only ever agreed to treat her for your sake."

After warmly seeing him off at the gates, I returned to my quiet cottage to pack up my private ledgers. I needed my financial records in order before leaving.

Within the hour, heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel outside.

Garrick had arrived, but this time he brought a tall, hardened woman in tow. As they boldly stepped into my private yard, my eyes immediately locked onto the space between them. Their hands were intimately interlocked. She carried the lethal aura of a northern shifter warrior, a wolf-tooth pendant hanging at her throat.

They walked toward my door, a brazen display meant to force my submission. Instead of despair, a cold fire ignited in my chest. Staring at their joined hands, a new, far sharper plan began to form rapidly in my mind.