Chapter 2 Whispers of Poison

Aria gasped, air burning her lungs as if she’d been drowning and had finally broken the surface.

The scent of herbs and smoke rushed into her senses. Light swam behind her eyes; her pulse thundered so loud it almost drowned the world. When her vision steadied, she found herself beneath silken sheets, runes carved into the ceiling above her that pulsed faintly like living veins.

Two figures hovered at her bedside, one with eyes bright from weeping, the other radiating command and exhaustion in equal measure.

“My daughter,” the woman whispered, clutching her trembling hand. Her voice cracked on the word daughter, as though she feared it would be taken away.

Aria’s pulse quickened. Fragments of memory flickered behind her eyes, the book, the Alpha’s daughter, the curse that chained her fate.

Her curse had become her cage.

But not this time.

Not again.

This life would not break her.

Because she would not be weak.

Not here.

Not ever again.

---

Morning came heavy, like the night had refused to leave.

Aria stirred beneath the silk sheets, every breath a small war. Her chest ached; her limbs trembled as if each movement asked too much. Even her tongue felt strange, bitter, as though she’d bitten metal in her sleep.

When she finally opened her eyes, the chamber was dim. Pale light struggled through the thick velvet curtains. At her bedside sat Luna, her mother, with her hands clasped in desperate prayer.

“My darling,” Luna whispered, her voice trembling as she saw Aria’s eyes flutter open. She rushed forward, smoothing the damp hair from her daughter’s forehead. “You frightened me. You slept so deeply I thought...” She couldn’t finish.

Aria blinked, throat dry as dust. “I… slept?”

The door opened softly.

The Alpha entered. His presence filled the room like thunder waiting to break. He carried a tray himself, though servants followed nervously behind. A bowl of steaming broth trembled in his massive hands, gentleness and power colliding in a single motion.

“You need strength,” he said, his voice low, almost rough. “Eat, little one. Please.”

The sound of his plea sliced through her. He had ruled kingdoms, commanded armies, but his voice cracked for her.

Aria forced a small smile and accepted the bowl. Steam curled upward, carrying warmth and something almost comforting. But as soon as the liquid touched her tongue, she knew. Beneath the herbs, beneath the savory sweetness, something bitter lingered. Wrong.

Her lashes lowered to hide the flicker of suspicion. “It’s good,” she murmured.

The lie scraped her throat raw.

---

The day went by in a blur of whispers and stillness.

The servants stayed close to the door and their whispers stopped as soon as she turned her head. At strange times, footsteps would creep down the hall. People looked at her.

And her body got weaker.

Each meal made her tired. Her fingers trembled when she reached for her goblet. Dizziness swept over her after a few sips of tea. That same bitter tang lingered on her tongue.

It was not sickness.

It was planned.

Her wolf, which had been quiet for years, growled softly under her skin.

Not sick. Not by luck. Something coils in the blood. Something that is given, not born.

Aria’s heart pounded. The book’s memory flashed in her mind, how they’d pitied the Alpha’s daughter, claiming her heart had simply failed. How healers called it incurable.

But Aria had lived and died before. She knew the taste of betrayal.

And this, this taste, was poison.

Someone wanted her dead.

And worse, someone wanted her parents to watch it happen.

---

That evening, Luna sat beside her bed, brushing her hair in slow, loving strokes. The silence between them was soft but heavy.

“Rest, darling,” Luna murmured. “Don’t push yourself.”

Aria studied her mother’s reflection in the mirror, the tenderness in her eyes, the trembling in her hands.

“Mother,” she whispered, her voice fragile. “If I were gone… what would happen to you?”

Luna froze. The brush slipped in her fingers. Tears welled instantly. “Don’t say such things.” Her voice trembled. “You are our light, Aria. If you were gone…” Her voice broke completely. “I would not survive it.”

Aria turned away, her eyes darkening with quiet resolve.

That is why they want me gone. Because my death would shatter you.

---

That night, the palace slept under a veil of silence. The moon hung low and sharp, cutting its light through the curtains like blades.

Aria rose from bed, her body weak but her mind clear and cold. The world spun faintly as she moved, but she steadied herself with the wall and crossed to the table where a silver goblet waited.

Her hands trembled as she lifted it. The scent of herbs hit her first, familiar, soothing, but underneath it lurked that same bitterness. Made of metal. Bitter.

She brought it close to her lips, then stopped.

No. She knew that taste now. Her body knew it.

Poison.

Her pulse quickened, fury and fear twisting together. Her wolf pressed against her ribs, restless, snarling.

They think you’re weak. Helpless.

Let them.

She would not die quietly.

---

The door creaked.

Aria froze.

She set the goblet down, heart hammering, and slid back under the covers. Her breath slowed, shallow and measured. She feigned sleep, the fragile, shallow breathing of the nearly broken.

Soft footsteps approached. A tray clinked faintly.

Through her lashes, she saw the servant, small, deliberate, her eyes downcast but her movements too careful. She replaced the goblet with another and lingered a heartbeat too long, adjusting its position with precision no innocent hand would need.

Then, as she turned to leave, the lamplight caught her face.

A single expression, fleeting, but sharp as a knife.

A smile.

Cold. Satisfied.

Aria’s blood ran to the ice.

The servant glanced back at her bed once more, then vanished through the door as silently as she’d come.

Aria lay still, waiting until the sound of footsteps faded completely.

Only then did she move. Her trembling hands fisted the sheets, and her chest heaved with silent fury.

The story in the book called it an illness no healer could cure.

But Aria now knew the truth.

Someone was poisoning her.

And they were doing it slowly, deliberately, to make her parents believe she was fading by fate’s cruel hand.

But fate wasn’t cruel.

People were.

And before her body gave out, she would uncover every one of their names.