Alaric did not ask for my account of events. Did not investigate. He simply accepted her words as truth.
His gaze turned glacial, golden Alpha eyes boring into mine with disappointment. "Lyra, when did you become this cruel creature? You have disappointed me deeply."
I wanted to howl my frustration to the moon itself.
Even with Alaric defending her at every turn, I refused to yield my ground. For three days, Lily scrubbed and swept like the servant she had always pretended to be.
When the punishment concluded, Alaric acted as though nothing significant had occurred. He merely released a soft sigh—light, dismissive.
"That fierce temper of yours, Lyra. When will you learn to let such trivial matters pass? It was merely a painting."
"You have had your vengeance. Let us move forward."
I was naive enough to believe we had.
Several days later, devastating news spread through the territories that Alaric's pack had suffered a catastrophic collapse. Ancient alliances crumbled overnight.
He was taken into Council custody shortly after, leaving me alone to face the destruction.
At first, worry did not consume me. Even if the Blackthorn pack fell into ruin, I still had my parents, my birth pack.