Whispers of Treason

Kaelia

The school administration dismissed classes five hours early today. The abrupt announcement echoed over the intercom system, sending a wave of chaotic relief through the student body. Lockers slammed shut, and students flooded the hallways, eager to start their unexpected freedom. I stood frozen by my locker, feeling a heavy dread settle firmly in the pit of my stomach. Returning to the packhouse this soon was not a blessing. It was a curse.

Showing up at the estate five hours ahead of schedule meant I would be an easy target. The head Omega would undoubtedly assign me extra grueling chores—scrubbing the massive grease traps in the kitchens, hauling heavy firewood, or washing the endless piles of laundry left behind by the pack elites. But manual labor was the least of my worries. Arriving early meant crossing paths with my predatory stepbrother, Trent, without the usual crowd of pack members around to witness his cruelty. I desperately wanted to avoid enduring another cruel, physical encounter with him or his gang of sycophants.

I decided to sneak back to my quarters undetected.

Instead of taking the main paved driveway that led straight to the grand entrance of the packhouse, I slipped onto the Alpha’s estate through a broken section of the wrought-iron perimeter fencing. I crouched low to the ground. I navigated carefully through the dense, thorny bushes that lined the edge of the property. The sharp branches scratched at my exposed arms, snagging on my cheap clothes and tearing the fabric, but I ignored the stinging pain. My only goal was the isolated broom cupboard at the back of the grounds that I was forced to call a cabin.

The wooden floorboards inside my miserable quarters always creaked under the slightest weight. The roof leaked, and the wind howled through the cracks in the walls. It was a pathetic excuse for a home, but it was my only sanctuary. I just needed to reach the relative safety of my miserable bed, pull the thin blanket over my head, and disappear until my shift started.

I crept closer to the main house, staying hidden within the thick foliage. I carefully placed my boots on the damp soil, ensuring I did not step on any stray twigs. I rounded the corner of the grand stone building, approaching the ground-floor window of my father’s administrative office.

I froze mid-step.

Low, urgent voices drifted out from the slightly ajar window. My pulse spiked, hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Had they seen me? Did a patrol guard spot me sneaking through the perimeter?

Then, I heard my own name.

To my horror, I realized the voices inside the office were discussing me.

My knees gave out. I dropped low to the damp earth, the wet soil seeping through the knees of my jeans. I silently crawled deeper into the shrubs beneath the windowsill to eavesdrop on the conversation. Dirt stained my palms, and dead leaves brushed against my face. I pressed my back hard against the rough stone foundation of the house, holding my breath to keep my presence a secret.

Inside the office, the tension was palpable. The heavy thud of boots paced back and forth across the hardwood floor.

"This cannot be happening. We are not ready." The voice belonged to Luna Vivienne, my stepmother. Her tone was sharp, lined with an unfamiliar edge of panic.

"I know." My father’s usually booming voice sounded frantic and strained. The Alpha of our pack sounded terrified. "The guest was supposed to show up in two days, but I just received the news. The Lycan King is already on his way to our territory."

The title sent a fresh shudder down my spine. The Lycan King. He was known across the continent as the most ruthless ruler in the world. He was a beast of legends, a conqueror who showed no mercy to those who crossed him.

"What does he want from us?" Trent’s slippery voice cut through the panic in the room.

"I have no idea, son. I wish I knew so I could prepare. Having him on our side is crucial to this pack." My father stopped pacing. "The rogues are getting loud. They turned violent and attacked a few neighboring packs just last week. We failed to control the rising attacks in our region."

"Maybe he wants to come here and see how things are going," Trent suggested, playing the role of the eager, helpful heir. "We are supposed to be one of the strongest packs in this area. Naturally, he would want to evaluate our strength."

"I heard the Lycan King is getting restless about the rogue attacks," my father said, his voice dropping lower. "He decided to set foot in our territory to take a look at things up close. He wants to see our failure for himself."

"We need to pacify him before he subjects us to his ire." Vivienne stepped closer to my father. "We already have the threat of the rogues looming over us. We cannot afford the King's wrath on top of it."

"How about we offer him a grand tribute?" Trent suggested. "A gift to bring us into his good books and win his goodwill."

I shifted in the dirt, my heart racing faster.

"He is the supreme Lycan King," my father argued nervously. "He already possesses everything money and power can buy. He has fame, servants, and endless wealth. What can we possibly give him to secure his favor?"

I pressed my face against my knees, praying the thick bushes concealed my trembling frame. I could easily picture the sickening, knowing look passing between my stepbrother and my stepmother right now.

"The Lycan King has a very keen eye for beauty," Trent said. His tone dripped with vile suggestion, sending a wave of nausea through my gut. "And Kaelia can pass off as beautiful if we dress her up appropriately for the occasion."

My stomach plummeted, hitting the dirt beneath me. The cold dampness of the earth was nothing compared to the ice flooding my veins. I knew Trent despised me, but I never imagined his hatred ran deep enough to suggest something so dark.

"What a brilliant idea, son." Vivienne jumped on the horrific idea. "You are going to make a great Alpha one day. Trent is right, Thorne. Kaelia is good for nothing. She brings nothing but shame to this pack. Get rid of her."

"It is the perfect way to eliminate her from our lives," Trent added, pushing the narrative. "It will keep your own dark administrative secrets safe from the King's scrutiny."

I clung desperately to the roots of the shrubs. My nails dug into the damp soil until my fingers ached. I waited for my father to speak up. I held onto a fragile, naive hope that my own father, the man whose blood ran in my veins, would defend me. I hoped he would shut down the idea of selling his daughter like cattle to a monster. He ignored me, he allowed them to treat me like a servant, but surely he still possessed a shred of paternal instinct.

His immediate response shattered my heart into irreparable pieces.

"She is worthless, Vivienne." My father scoffed with deep disdain. "I doubt the Lycan King will be pleased with such a pathetic offer."

The words felt like a physical blow to the chest. He showed zero concern for my safety or well-being. He did not care about the horrific fate they were condemning me to. His only hesitation stemmed from his doubt regarding my value as a transactional object.

"Come on, Thorne." Vivienne persisted aggressively, framing me as the perfect pawn in their twisted game. "She is beautiful enough. I have seen young men look at her. We throw her at the Lycan King’s feet, and he walks away from here without asking too many questions. Presenting her will sufficiently distract the fierce, ruthless King from digging into our questionable administrative decisions and mismanaged pack finances."

"Are you sure this will work, Vivienne?" my father asked. "I do not want him to look too deeply into our records. We already owe him a lot."

"Think of this horrific betrayal as a lucrative business deal, darling," Vivienne cooed at him manipulatively. "The Lycan King comes to us, and we offer him a beautiful, compliant slave for free. Would he not be pleased to be offered an Alpha’s daughter? Nobody outside the pack knows she is a bastard child. You can just lie. Tell him your first fated mate died and then you found me. The King will be more than happy to receive a supposedly legitimate daughter as a bed warmer."

My mind struggled to process the sheer trauma of the conversation. They were discussing me as a lifeless, disposable object destined to be sacrificed to a cursed, monstrous beast. The Lycan King was rumored to be fierce, ruthless, and cunning. He was cursed to never find a mate. They wanted to hand me over to a man who would never love me, who would only use me to satisfy his primal needs.

I lived with Vivienne for years. How could she lack even a single ounce of sympathy for me? Had she not already gotten her revenge by throwing me out of my own home after my mother died?

While my brain short-circuited in the dirt, Trent decided to deliver the final, truly sickening blow. To guarantee my permanent banishment and ensure my father agreed to the plan, he fabricated a vile, character-assassinating lie.

"I thought I should keep this hidden to protect the family honor." Trent’s voice wavered. He feigned distress, playing the innocent victim perfectly. "I do not think I can hide it anymore. Father... Kaelia has been relentlessly trying hard to get into my pants."

"What?" My father gasped in loud, aghast horror.

I stopped breathing. The damp earth beneath me felt like an open grave.

"Just this morning," Trent stammered out the confession. "When Mom asked her to get her shoes, Kaelia purposely ran into me in the gym. She forcibly kissed me."

Vivienne gasped loudly. I could hear the sound of her rushing across the room to hold her lying son. "Oh my God, Trent."

"I pushed her away," Trent elaborated, spinning a detailed web of lies. "I told her I think of her as a sister. She told me we are step-siblings, so there is nothing wrong with it. When I rightfully rejected her advances and said no, she hurled a heavy dumbbell at my head."

"I cannot believe this," Vivienne said, her voice dripping with fabricated horror. "Why didn't you tell us this before?"

"I did not want Father to think I was painting her in a bad light. I wanted to give her another chance." Trent let out a shaky, dramatic breath. "But every time she finds me alone, she pushes herself upon me. She continually threatens to tell the entire pack that I raped her if I do not submit to her twisted desires."

Crouching in the dirt, paralyzed by the sheer audacity of his disgusting fabrications, my brain simply stopped working. I could barely process the vile words echoing in my ears.

What???