I was done with my treatment routine for the day and was presently cleaning up my healing supplies.
The medicine I had administered today was just a pinch of the actual dosage meant to fight against the worm’s toxins.
For the last few days, I had been careful to only administer the drug in small amounts.
If I gave her the full medicine all at once, then there’d be no more need for a healer—and I definitely didn’t want that.
Until I found a way to get access to the black book, it was safer for everyone to keep believing that the Luna was on a slow journey to recovery from the poisoning.
"My, my. You really must overestimate the hold you seem to have on my son. I’m sorry to break it to you, Maeve, but it’s merely a fleeting rush of lust and nothing more. Do you know how many other women he’s fucked—"
I paused then, heart stopping for a second. Other... women?
I forced myself to keep working, feigning indifference.
"I don’t care what Ivan does with other women. Perhaps this news will be of more relevance to Serena."
The old witch cackled. "Oh, Maeve—I’m a woman too, you know? I can see right through your little act of nonchalance. You care so much that there must be a pang in your chest right now." Her lips stayed stretched in a wolfish grin, and I hated to give her the satisfaction—hated to give in to the sharp ache within me—so instead, I rolled my eyes.
"The only pang in my chest right now is the discomfort from your grating voice, Lydia."
"Ah, so you’re denying throwing yourself at him?" The Cheshire grin remained. "Don’t be shy, Maeve darling. I’ve heard of your homewrecking, slutty ways—pinning him to the wall and rubbing your grimy wetness all over him."
"Is that what Serena said?" My brows shot up in genuine amusement. "That I had pinned Ivan to the wall? Goddess. I have no idea who’s more stupid—your pathetic daughter-in-law, or you, for believing that a she-wolf of my size could even hold Ivan down if she wanted." I laughed—wildly.
Lydia’s expression darkened. "Shut up, girl. I do not care for your version of the event. Have you no shame—even? If not for yourself, then for my family. Do you know the Goddess blessed the Cross mansion herself, and you dare try to taint it by walking around naked for all to see your shriveled little goods!"
I chuckled. "I wouldn’t call it shriveled, to be honest—Ivan did seem very taken by it. Serena must have left out the part where she sabotaged my clothes. But it’s no use explaining to you—you’ve always been just as dense as she is. Of course you’d love the company of a liar."
Lydia sneered, and if she could have spat acid with her next words, she would have.
"Was she also lying about the fact that you were snooping around my room, whore?"
I froze for a second—the confirmation I needed for my suspicions.
How much had Serena said? Knowing her, she’d have gone the entire mile, concocting even more lies to feed the Luna’s insidious delusions against me.
And I wouldn’t be surprised if they were working together right now, trying to devise a way to get rid of me.
Luna Lydia had always liked Serena when I lived here—and naïve as I was, I’d believed the Luna only liked her because they were both noble women.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized they must have bonded over their hatred for me.
It explained why Serena was always conveniently absent when Lydia punished and assaulted me... how Lydia always knew my secret hiding spots, how Lydia knew about my allergies, why Serena often visited Lydia.
No true best friend would never have associated with her knowing all too well how much of a terror she was.
Of course, it took me five years to finally catch up. And despite how much I could use my wits, the combination of Lydia and Serena left a bad taste in my mouth.
Lydia had always been brutally extreme—having me beaten, almost amputated if she had her way—while Serena was mischievous, sneaky in the worst trouble-making ways.
Their lovechild would be a menacing enemy to my stay in Ash Creek. I’d hate to stick around long enough for that.
Again, my mind went to the black book.
Now, more than ever, I needed to find some sort of clue as to how to get it.
Just where could Lydia be hiding it? How could I get that information out of her tactfully? Should I search again?
I had to try, but I wasn’t about to venture into another search blindly—that was way too risky.
In order to carry out my next search, I needed to be stealthy. I also needed an inkling—some pointer in the right direction.
Getting a hold of the black book meant I could get away from whatever dangers Lydia and Serena had in store for me.
It meant I could finally get Asha out of Ash Creek and back to the safety of Dark Wind.
With me and Asha out of the way, Devon could finally challenge Ivan for the Alpha throne and exert his revenge.
As I thought it, I felt that gnawing sense of guilt. But as I’d learned to do, I pushed my guilt aside and focused on what was right in front of me—
My all-consuming hatred for Lydia and Serena. My anger at Ivan. My loyalty to Devon.
And, most of all, my love for Asha—along with the overwhelming urge to protect his legacy.
It was just as Devon had said: eventually, all of our actions would be for Asha. For the stable and secure future he could have as heir to both Ash Creek and Dark Wind packs.
It was the reason I was here right now—the reason I hadn’t yet driven my dagger through Lydia’s bony chest.
"Cat got your tongue, Maeve? So it is true." Her tone was mischievous—biting, with that spark of a wicked smile on her face. It was becoming far more common than I felt comfortable with. "Pray tell, just what were you searching for?"