He Who Holds the Leash

The garden path was empty when Magnolia stepped outside, but she knew she wasn't alone.

The scent gave him away cedarwood and ash, the same sharp undercurrent that always followed Sterling Rhodes like a warning. He didn't walk like other men. He didn't need to. He prowled confident, calculated, the way wolves do when they've stopped pretending to be men at all.

"You're later than I expected," she said without turning.

"I was letting the silence do its work," he replied from behind her.

She faced the fountain. The water had long stopped running. The marble wolves at its base had moss in their mouths, and time had dulled their eyes.

"Does it usually take threats to get what you want?" she asked.

Sterling's footsteps drew closer until he stood beside her.

"Threats are crude. I prefer pressure. The right kind applied long enough does wonders. See, Rhett always thought love could bend people. I know better. Desperation snaps them."

She looked at him, at the face so similar to Rhett's in structure, but twisted by arrogance. "Is that how you bent Camille?"

His jaw ticked. "She was a child. Impressionable. But obedient."

"You erased her identity."

"I gave her a future."

"You gave her a lie."

He smiled like that pleased him.

"I assume you haven't answered my offer yet."

"I assume you already know I won't."

"That's a mistake."

He reached into his coat and handed her something.

A photograph.

Camille. Taken just weeks before her reappearance. She looked thinner. Paler. Her smile uncertain.

"She's unraveling," Sterling said, almost lazily. "The memory restoration broke something in her. You could've left her in peace. But you had to dig."

"She was my sister."

"And now she's my leverage."

Magnolia stared at the photo. "You think threatening her will change my mind?"

"No," he said calmly. "I think threatening you won't. But there are other ways to break a Luna."

He turned to leave. "Midnight tomorrow. Final decision. Bring the contract or I take it as a declaration of war."

After he disappeared into the hedge path, Magnolia remained still for a long time.

Then she tore the photograph in half.

The pieces scattered into the dry fountain.

The wind howled.

Back inside the estate, she found her room door ajar. She hadn't left it that way.

She stepped in, muscles tensed.

Ivy sat casually in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, sipping from a glass of red wine as if she belonged there.

"Lovely room," she said. "I remember when it used to belong to the last Luna. Before she disappeared."

Magnolia didn't move. "What do you want?"

"I thought we should talk. Alpha female to Alpha placeholder."

Magnolia closed the door behind her. "You're not an Alpha."

Ivy's smile was sharp. "Neither are you."

The words were knives, flung with elegance.

Magnolia crossed the room and stood beside the fireplace. "So, is this about the seating arrangements again? Or did you come to brag about who your uncle's trying to buy this week?"

Ivy stood and took slow, graceful steps toward her. "No. I came to tell you that when this all crumbles and it will you won't have anyone left to drag you out of the ruins. Not your wolf. Not Rhett. And definitely not that broken sister of yours."

Magnolia's breath hitched.

Ivy tilted her head. "Oh, he didn't tell you? Camille's been moved to a different ward. Private. Guarded. She asked for him. Not you."

Magnolia stared at her. "Get out."

Ivy smiled like she'd won. "Sleep well, Luna."

After she left, Magnolia pressed her palms to the cold stone wall. Her heartbeat refused to settle.

Everywhere she turned, someone was playing a different game and she was the prize, not the player.

She didn't know what Camille remembered or why she'd asked for Rhett but one thing was certain.

Whatever trust still existed between them... it was cracking fast.

And somewhere, in the shadow of all this deception, something worse was waiting to take her place.