Moments ago,
The Grand Hall of Tathoris,
Astrid's POV
The air was too clean, too bright, too perfect. The wedding of Alpha Jaxon Reid Fenrir was a monument built on Lumira's fresh grave. I leaned against the cold marble, nursing a goblet of chilled champagne, feeling the caustic taste of hypocrisy coating my tongue. This glass-and-marble monstrosity wasn't a venue; it was a cage of gilded lies.
I watched my brother, Jaxon, a monolith of gold-threaded arrogance. Beside him, Selene Eryndor was a porcelain doll, radiant in scarlet, her smile manufactured innocence. I could smell the calculated, sickeningly sweet perfume of her performance. She clutched the white lilies - a pious mockery of the girl she helped destroy.
The elders approached, their voices slick with flattery, their eyes sharp with appraisal. The silence came when Elder Darnel leaned in, spitting Lumira's name out like a piece of spoiled meat.
"May the gods forget her soul."
Selene, the consummate actress, dropped her head - a gesture of manufactured grief - and placed a delicate hand on Jaxon's arm.
"Please, Elder, let us not speak ill of the dead. Lumira was a good girl, in her own way. We should pray for her peace."
'Pray for her peace? Like you didn't throw a party when she died.' I thought, with a bitter scoff.
The way she delivered that line was with the finesse of a knife plunging into silk. The fools around us cheered her "kindness," their whispers about the "cursed Lumira" growing meaner and bolder. Jaxon's arm tightened, a possessive, approving grip. He was complicit. He was the most sickening part of the lie.
A servant arrived, holding a small, lacquered box. It was weirdly red and black, covered in sigils that seemed to squirm in the dancing candlelight.
It was obviously odd, but even I couldn't have choreographed what happened next.
Selene gasped, a light, social sound, and flicked the clasp open.
The laughter died in her throat. The silence that followed was absolutely terrifying.
It wasn't a jewel; it was a heart, still raw and wet, glistening obscenely against the opulent backdrop.
Selene's shriek was primal, tearing through the perfect façade. The heart fell onto her scarlet gown, the blood instantly leaching into the silk.
Jaxon roared, wrapping her close, radiating blind, furious Alpha-heat. But before he could act, the box erupted into a Howler. The voice was distorted and layered - a choir of pure malice - filling the silent hall.
"I CURSE this union, and CURSE this house. May your marriage rot, may your love blacken, your line be cut short. This heart is but the first offering."
The scream of "Pulse grenade!" barely registered before the detonation. I dropped, instinct overriding grace. The sound was a crushing physical blow, tearing at my eardrums.
The box exploded, the crystals above raining down like razor-sharp snow. The hall groaned, and the world tilted. When I pushed myself up, the air was thick was metallic, smelling of ozone and ruined gold.
---
Moments later,
Beta Mason's POV
The moments after the pulse grenade hit, my Beta instincts took over.
The shockwave felt like a giant fist slamming into my chest as I exited Lumira's funeral.
Soon I made it to the event hall, which was now a total wreck. I fought through the smoke, the wailing sirens of the arriving police tearing through the chaos outside.
My job was duty: secure, contain, and protect the Alpha. But the protective heat I felt for Jaxon was tainted now... it felt like protecting a murderer.
"Secure the exits! Tend to the injured! Sweep for residues - now!" My voice was a gravel-rough command, cutting through the rising panic.
I glanced at Alpha Jaxon held Selene, his eyes blazing, the fury masking the terror. Luna Selene, ever the tactician, saw me and instantly focused her performance.
"It... it must be her, Mason. Only she would do something so horrible," she choked out, her voice fractured, perfectly pathetic.
The accusation was immediate, damning, and a lie I couldn't challenge. Lumira was alive. Fragile, possibly half-mad, freshly pulled from her own tomb. If I admitted that, I signed her death warrant for six AM.
The police officer asked the routine question, and Jaxon delivered the verdict, his voice cold venom, eyes hard with hate: "Only one enemy would desecrate vows with such cowardice. Lumira Duskbane."
My jaw locked, as a dull agonizing ache, welled up in my chest. The bitter taste of betrayal coated my tongue. I was standing here, forced to let them frame the girl I knew was waiting for execution.
Then Alpha Astrid walked towards them, with a glorious and furious streak of purpose. Her eyes blazed with a fierce beautiful clarity that none of the others possessed.
"Are you serious?" Her voice was a sharp blade, slicing through the lingering smoke and noise. "Blaming a dead girl? As if Lumira is the only soul who might hate you both?"
She advanced on them, forcing the confrontation. She was challenging the Alpha in public, risking everything... and I loved her for it.
"But it's the truth..."
"A wedding to eclipse a funeral. Did you hope no one would notice, Selene?" Astrid's laugh was a cold, vicious crack of ice, aimed at Jaxon's throat.
Selene collapsed into fresh sobs, turning to Jaxon for protection.
"The Seer chose the date! I would never be so cruel!" She played the victim, pulling the crowd back to her side, and the fools bought the tears. They always bought Selene's tears.
Astrid turned to the police, her smile a promise of torment. "Hurry to Lumira's mansion. Arrest her corpse before it's buried."
I stood rigid, my heart hammering against my ribs in a dull painful rhythm. I had to let them chase a ghost. Lumira needed time - at seventy-two hours of quiet rest, according to the Healer, from what Seraphina had texted me. Every lie I permitted bought her life.
This entire attack wasn't about Jaxon's pride. It was a brutal message, a terrifying call to arms. The moment they stepped out of line, chaos answered. Lumira, the resurrected Witch, was going to be a force of nature.
A surge of fierce, protective loyalty - not duty, but something far hotter and more dangerous - washed over me. I needed to find her. I needed to guard her. I looked at the wreckage, the bloodstain on the floor, the pathetic relief in Selene's eyes.
I swore a silent oath: When the Witch came for them, when Lumira finally rose to claim her vengeance, I would be her Beta. I would stand against my own blood.