Chapter 5

　　Olivia's POV

　　Wilmot hurried off. The pack assembly was starting, and the Alpha couldn't be late.

　　Once he vanished, it was just Jasmine and me near Blackthorn's border.

　　Most guards were pulled for assembly security.

　　I turned to Jasmine. Her act for Wilmot—gone.

　　Now she stood tall, sneering.

　　"Pathetic Luna." She scanned me, voice sharp. "All that 'Alpha bloodline' talk—please. You're just a common blood."

　　I studied her, too, spotting the fabric of her dress—the same as Digby's.

　　It was Royal cloth Wilmot brought back, "so rare only a child's outfit could be made."

　　But now I saw—the truth was Jasmine got her dress first. Digby's was an afterthought.

　　My voice turned ice.

　　"My performance as Blackthorn's Luna is none of a Silvermoon's business."

　　Jasmine snorted.

　　"Think Wilmot chose you? Please. He pitied you. Still believe in the mate bond? Didn't Alpha Zander teach you better?"

　　"You know what? He loves me! Even your son—"

　　She suddenly fell silent.

　　"You'll lose everything. Child, mate—nothing."

　　I bit back rage, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction.

　　"Worry about your failing body, Jasmine. How long until your wolf drags you under?"

　　As a werewolf, her wolf was extremely frail, leaving her physically frail.

　　It was a vulnerability that had always been a source of her deepest insecurity.

　　Her face twisted. Her hands shifted—fur sprouted, but no claws.

　　Just enough to slap me hard.

　　My cheek burned.

　　"Better than your cast-off mate."

　　I raised my hand to retaliate, but Jasmine seized me in an iron grip.

　　Despite her delicate appearance, her strength was overwhelming, pinning me helplessly.

　　She yanked me toward the pond.

　　"Let's see who they really care about."

　　She shoved me in.

　　Then jumped in herself.

　　I couldn't swim.

　　Panic set in as I thrashed, sinking.

　　Water filled my mouth, my lungs.

　　Then—a splash.

　　Wilmot and Zander dove in.

　　I reached for Wilmot.

　　"Wilmot—save me—"

　　My fingers nearly grazed his sleeve, but Wilmot didn't spare me a glance.

　　He swam straight past me, heading for Jasmine.

　　The truth hit like a blade—he wasn't saving me.

　　Everything blurred as waterlogged lungs burned. I was drowning, gulping for air that wouldn't come.

　　An Omega who could swim pulled me out.

　　Coughing, I heard Jasmine's teary wail across the pond.

　　She clung to Zander, while Wilmot barked for a medic.

　　Guards circled them like moths.

　　Me? One Omega. Alone.

　　Jasmine turned her tears on me.

　　"Luna Olivia, why'd you push me? I just wanted to talk. You knew I can't swim—"

　　She fainted against Zander.

　　"Jasmine!"

　　Wilmot panicked, then ordered her moved to the Packhouse.

　　After arranging everything, he stormed over to me, drenched and seething.

　　"Olivia, don't you know she's fragile? Why would you do this?"

　　I stood drenched, shivering from the rescue no one cared to make.

　　No warmth from Wilmot—just accusations slicing through the cold.

　　I forced myself up, met his glare with what little strength I had left.

　　"I didn't push her."

　　Wilmot froze. My cold stare made him falter.

　　"Olivia, I never thought you had such venomous malice in you. If I hadn't arrived in time, Jasmine would be dead!"

　　The wind bit through my soaked clothes.

　　His words cut deeper.

　　The man who once treated me with gentleness now spat venom.

　　"Why won't you believe me? Five years mean nothing against her lies?"

　　His frown deepened.

　　"You're still trying to deny it? Jasmine's always been so gentle—she doesn't pose the slightest threat to you. Why target her?"

　　He sighed.

　　"Escort Luna Olivia back. See she rests."