2

In her own quarters, Thalia sat at the window, her fingers brushing the glass's smooth surface while her eyes swept across Thornwood's expansive grounds. Even though the beautiful hues of twilight decorated the evening sky, she did not find any beauty in it. No more. Long since her bliss had ended, all she could see was a life that seemed as meaningless as the shadows that covered the landscape.

She had never been married to Killian out of love. It had been a transaction, governed by power, politics, and other people's desires. She had always been a means to an end, not a choice. She had never been viewed by Killian as his equal or mate. She had represented a necessity for him to establish his legitimacy as Thornwood's successor. Not a companion, but a sacrifice.

Her reverie was interrupted by the creaking sound of the door, and she turned, her heart fluttering uncontrollably. Killian entered the room with a presence akin to a storm approaching. She had long since learned to read the nuances in his gaze, which was frigid and unreadable. His jaw was tense. The rigidity of his stance. The way he averted his eyes from hers, like though she were merely a bother.

His voice was as uninterested as usual when he said, "You look like you’ve been lost in thought,"

Thalia said, "I was thinking," in a voice that was almost audible above a whisper. She didn't have to continue. He wouldn't care, she realized.

When Killian's gaze shifted to her, she briefly saw a glimpse of something—possibly a memory or an emotion—but it vanished before she could recognize it. He walked toward the big desk in the room's corner, and she followed him with a trained apathy, attempting to keep the resentment from rising in her throat.

"I didn’t expect you to be in here so soon," he added, without any real meaning. "The party is about to begin. You must be present.

Thalia stood from the window, nodding and swallowing. "Of course," she said as she pushed herself to get up. With every stride she took, the weight of her feet on the ground increased.

Even though they were walking together, they were very far apart. It was never merely physical. It was the dense, oppressive silence that hung between them. She had clung to the belief that Killian would come to love her, that time would soften him, in the early days of their marriage. She knew better now, though. In a significant way, she wasn't his wife. She served as a tool. a way to achieve a goal.

Unbidden, the flashback reminded her cruelly of how she had ended up here, standing next to a guy who would never consider her equal.

---

As anticipated, the wedding had been lavish, complete with all the glitz and glamour of a union that was everything but intimate. As Thalia stood at the altar, her heart thumping in her breast, the atmosphere had been charged with anxiety. From the time she was selected to wed Killian, she had been aware that their union was not based on love. Politics was involved. The pack required a Luna who could secure Thornwood's stability, give birth to heirs, and be devoted to their mission.

But Killian needed more than just any Luna. She was the one.

The first choice had been Astrid. Killian had enjoyed that one. She was the one who had given him everything he had ever desired and who had ignited his heart. However, Thalia had been thrust forward when the relationship with her family broke down and political affiliations changed like sand underfoot. Although she was not the person Killian had ever desired, she had been the backup plan, the one who might restore stability and harmony to Thornwood.

"Thalia," he had stated to her in a low, disdainful voice prior to the ceremony, "you are here because they need you." You're here to fulfill your obligation. Nothing more.

His words had broken her heart, but she had said nothing. What else could be said?

---

The reality of today didn't feel any different from the past. Killian's icy apathy again. The same vacuous assurances.

The sounds of the pack filled the air as they walked inside the large hall. Thalia tried to ignore the weight of their gazes and the condemnation in their eyes by keeping her head down. One of them wasn't her. One of them had never been her. Nor would she be.

They moved to the front, where Killian stood at the center of the room, his stance majestic and authoritative, yet with a hint of cruelty that Thalia had learned to detect. Her heart sank into her stomach as she stood next to him, preparing herself for another night of acting and being someone she wasn't.

The whispers from the pack were unrelenting. Have you heard? Astrid is nothing like Thalia," one wolf mumbled to himself. She is really a second-choice pawn. Luna should never have been made.

Despite her stomach churning, Thalia remained unresponsive. She didn't. It was simpler to act as though the words didn't sting and to let them pass over her. However, they felt more incisive and sneaky tonight.

At that moment, Thalia saw her near the rear of the room. Astrid. The lady who, in some perverse, unsaid manner, still appeared to hold Killian's heart, and who had once been all he had desired. In a throng of lesser mortals, she was there, standing like a queen, her eyes fixed on Thalia with a hungry stare.

Thalia's breath caught as usual as a horrible sense of inadequacy swept over her. Thalia's potential was cruelly brought to light by Astrid's attractiveness.

Then, Killian turned to Thalia and spoke in a chilly whisper. "Give a smile. You're supposed to act the part out.

A fake smile flickered across Thalia's lips, but it stopped short of her eyes. She said, "Of course,".

But something inside her started to fall apart as the night went on. It felt like too much—the fake grins, the gentle clinks of glasses, the laughs. She was unable to ignore the poison that had been pulsing through her body for weeks due to each breath. Her thoughts were obscured by a slight dizziness that made her feel lightheaded.

She leaned a hand on the edge of the table for support as her stomach tightened violently. Not in front of them. Not right now. She was unable to display weakness. She refused.

"Thalia?" Now that he was speaking sharply, Killian's eyes were darting to her, but they were unconcerned. Just impatience. "What is the matter with you?"

After gathering herself, she muttered, "I'm fine." Tonight, however, the poison was more potent. The sluggish, creeping feeling that betrayed her body was something she could sense. She struggled to maintain her composure despite her heavy limbs and hazy vision.

"All right?" Killian said, his tone dripping with skepticism. "You don't appear well."

It was difficult for Thalia to look him in the eyes and stand up straight. She could feel his eyes on her, but they weren't worried; rather, they were the icy disinterest of a man who didn't need her.

She mumbled, "Just tired," but it was a lie. She wasn't sure how much longer she could maintain the act because her body was betraying her.

However, a voice cut through the tension before she could say anything more.

"Thalia."

It was Astrid, approaching them with a sarcastic, smooth voice. Though Thalia braced herself, she was powerless to prevent it. Something dark—satisfaction, maybe—glowed in Astrid's eyes.

Astrid hissed, "You look a little... pale." "Is everything okay?"

Thalia managed a grin despite her constricted throat. "I'm all right."

Astrid’s gaze flicked to Killian, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “She’s probably just not used to the weight of being Luna,” she whispered. “The burden must be heavy.”

Killian stared at Thalia briefly, his gaze steely, before shifting his attention back to Astrid. “She’ll manage,” he stated bluntly. "She has to."

Thalia’s heart fell.

The poison had seized her body, but it was evident that Killian and Astrid had already claimed her soul.