Chapter 5 To Make Him Bleed

ELENA

My bedchamber was the only relief I needed from all the noise of the grand hall. I shut the door behind me, leaning back against it as I let out a long breath. 

My reflection looked back at me—young, whole, and completely untouched by the wolfsbane that would have killed me three years from now.

I pressed my palms against the vanity. My mind was racing, replaying every moment from the Mate Hunt. It was tempting to use everything I knew to crush my enemies all at once, to walk up to my father right now and expose the poison, the betrayals, and the secret affairs.

But I couldn't.

If I suddenly changed into a cold and ruthless stranger overnight, people would hate me. They would not understand my reason for turning hostile towards my sister and Lucian.

My father would think I had gone mad, or worse, that a dark spell possessed me. The Moonspire Pack was bound by strict laws and delicate politics. I had to play the long game. Small, calculated moves would strip those heartless creatures of their power piece by piece, long before they even realized they were in a trap.

A soft knock rattled the bedroom door, interrupting my thoughts.

"Elena?"

Nora’s voice came through it, sounding all sweet and innocent. Without waiting to get my permission, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Her face looked like a complete mess. Her blonde hair was disheveled, pulled out of its neat style from the desperate scratching earlier. The gown she badly wanted to steal from me had now been ripped at the seams near her shoulder where she had tried to tear it off. As for her skin, they were covered in red, blotchy blotches from the Silver-Fern pollen. She had washed her face, but her eyes were swollen from crying.

In my first life, seeing her like this would have sent me rushing to her side. I would have wrapped a warm blanket around her shoulders, brought her soothing creams, and apologized profusely for whatever had made her suffer. I would have blamed myself for not taking better care of her.

Now, I just sat at my vanity, slowly running a brush through my hair, watching her through the glass. 

"Elena..." Nora whimpered, taking a few timid steps into the room. She held her arms, trying to look small and pitiful. "Father was so cruel to me. He ordered the guards to drag me out like a criminal in front of everyone. My skin was on fire, and then that terrible drink..."

She paused, waiting. She was waiting for the comforting words I would hurriedly say to her, the soft touch, the apology.

I set the brush down with a clack, then turned around in my chair, resting my hands in my lap as I looked at her. I didn't scold her or smile. I made sure to keep my face entirely blank.

"You can’t blame him, Nora. You looked quite shameful outside there. Next time, try to be more careful, sis," my voice stayed smooth and measured. "Also, I think you reacted to something. Maybe a perfume. Try to be careful too when taking things that do not belong to you. They rarely ever end well."

Nora froze mid-step. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. The pitiful expression on her face flickered, replaced by a flash of genuine confusion. "What... what do you mean?"

"Your reaction could have been from a perfume, soap or even my royal dress," I replied, tilting my head slightly. "Especially because it was made for the Crown Princess. The fabric is treated with protective herbs meant only for the royal bloodline. If you had asked me why I didn’t send my maids to bring it to you, instead of coming to take it yourself, I would have warned you."

Nora’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking suddenly very uncomfortable. It wasn't the answer she expected. I hadn't accused her of stealing, nor had I yelled at her. I had spoken to her with the polite distance one might use with a distant acquaintance.

"I... I just wanted to look pretty for the ceremony," Nora muttered, her voice losing its dramatic edge. She looked at me closely, her eyes searching my face for any sign of the sister she thought she could control. "You sound... different, Elena. Are you angry with me?"

"Why would I be angry?" I asked, offering a faint, hollow smile that didn't reach my eyes. "It was just an unfortunate incident. You should go to your room and rest, Nora. You look exhausted."

Nora stood there for a second longer, clearly unsettled by how easily I dismissed her. Without the emotional reaction she was relying on, she had no ground to stand on. She swallowed hard, gave a nod, and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I watched the door shut and my satisfaction settle in my chest. Rule one: take away her control. Nora thrived on my empathy. Without it, she was nothing more than a spoiled girl throwing tantrums.

A few minutes later, another knock sounded on my door. This time, it was my head maid, stepping inside with a small silver tray carrying a warm pot of tea.

"Princess," she said softly, setting the tray on the side table. "I brought you some chamomile to help you sleep."

"Thank you," I said. "Is the hall cleared?"

"Yes, Princess. Most of the visiting Alpha lords have retired to the guest quarters," the maid replied. She hesitated for a moment, adjusting the teacup on the tray. "Though... Alpha Lucian of the Northern Ridge remained in the courtyard for a long time after you left."

I paused, looking up at her. "Lucian?"

"Yes, Princess. He was speaking with the head steward, asking about your daily schedule and whether you usually walk in the gardens in the morning." The maid smiled nervously. "He seemed very interested in you. The guards said he looked quite bothered when the steward told him your schedule is private."

An immediate surge of irritation tightened my chest.

Lucian was already prying. He was used to getting what he wanted, and my refusal to fall at his feet during the Mate Hunt was clearly gnawing at him. He was an Alpha; his pride couldn't handle a rejection he didn't understand.

"Tell the stewards that if Alpha Lucian asks about me again, they are to remind him that guest privileges do not include tracking the Crown Princess's movements," I said coldly.

The maid blinked, surprised by my strict tone, but quickly bowed. "Right away, Princess."

Once she left, I walked over to the balcony doors and pushed them open, stepping out into the cool night. The wind whipped my hair around my face as I looked down at the courtyard below. It was empty now.

I leaned against the stone railing, my mind slipping back to the memories of my first life.

Back then, I had spent months trying to figure out what Lucian liked. I memorized his favorite foods, learned the history of his pack, and stayed up late writing letters he barely bothered to read. I had practically begged for a single kind glance from him, convincing myself that if I just tried harder, he would eventually love me.

I almost wanted to laugh at how foolish I had been.

Lucian didn't care about devotion. He didn't care about love. He was a predator who only valued what was difficult to catch. The moment I handed him my heart on a silver platter, he had treated it like trash.

I looked up at the white moon and scoffed, the thought hitting my mind for the first time.

If Lucian truly wanted my attention this time around, there was a way and it wasn't going to be with the idea of him having a handsome face or a commanding tone. He was going to have to chase me. He was going to have to bleed for every single word I spoke to him.