The Alpha's Forbidden Vow novel Chapter 68

POV: Selene

The fragile peace in the manor was a deceptive thing, like the calm before a storm.

While Zane kept his distance, dealing with the political hurricane he had unleashed, Isabella remained locked in her suite.

Her fury was a palpable thing, a poisonous scent that seemed to seep from under her door and curl through the hallways.

A wounded, disgraced she-wolf, backed into a corner, was the most dangerous animal in the pack.

I spent my days in the quiet solitude of my new suite, trying to piece together the puzzle of my own identity from the ancient books Lyra had given me.

But a constant, low-level anxiety hummed beneath my skin.

My inner wolf was restless, unable to settle, sensing a threat that I couldn't yet see.

One evening, as I was reading, a faint, metallic scent pricked at my senses.

It was the cold, sharp tang of polished silver, laced with something else, something acrid and unnatural that made my wolf’s hackles rise.

I dismissed it at first, but the feeling of being watched, of a predator stalking the edges of my new, comfortable cage, grew stronger.

The silence of the suite was no longer peaceful; it was predatory.

I got out of bed and walked to the large window, peering out into the moonlit gardens.

Everything looked normal.

Suddenly, a floorboard creaked in the sitting room just beyond my bedroom door.

It was a heavy, deliberate sound, not the natural settling of an old house.

My heart leaped into my throat.

I whirled around just as a figure stepped from the shadows of the doorway.

He was completely lost in his delusion, a loyal dog carrying out his mistress’s silent command.

“She is the rightful Luna, the mother of the true heir,” he spat, taking a slow, deliberate step towards me. “You are a disease. And I am the cure.”

He raised the dagger, its poisoned blade aimed directly at my heart.

I was frozen, paralyzed by a terror so absolute it stole the air from my lungs.

My back was pressed against the cold glass of the window, with nowhere to run.

This was it.

Isabella’s revenge, delivered by the hand of a fanatic.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the inevitable pain, my only thought a desperate, silent prayer for my son.