Elara learned quickly that Regina punished honesty more cruelly than deceit.
Sofia waited for her in the eastern gallery, where the windows were tall and narrow and the light entered like a question it already knew the answer to.
She stood with her hands folded, posture perfect, expression mild—polite, in the way wolves were polite before they circled.
“You left the council wing early,” Sofia said.
It was not a question.
Elara slowed her steps, schooling her face into something neutral, something tired.
“Did I?” she replied.
“Time runs strangely here.”
Sofia smiled.
A soft thing.
Practiced.
“Everything runs strangely here.”
Ah.
We’re doing this, Elara thought.
Fine.
She stopped beside one of the windows and looked out at the fog curled along the lower courtyards.
The height made her dizzy if she stared too long—another design choice meant to remind humans where they stood.
“What did Alessandro tell you?” Sofia asked.
There it was.
No preamble.
No courtesy.
Elara did not turn.
“He explained Regina’s rules.”
Sofia tilted her head.
“And?”
“And nothing,” Elara said.
“That’s the point of rules, isn’t it?
They exist so you don’t need explanations.”
A beat.
Then Sofia laughed—light, almost fond.
“Hmmm.
That sounds rehearsed.”
Elara shrugged.
“Ridiculous thing to accuse me of.”
Sofia stepped closer.
Not invading space.
Testing it.
“You know,” Sofia said conversationally, “most humans ask more questions.”
“I’m not most humans.”
“No,” Sofia agreed.
“You’re quieter.”
Elara finally faced her.
“Is that a crime?”
“Not yet.”
That smile again.
Disarming.
Disgusting.
Elara felt it then—the subtle pull low in her chest, the tightening thread that hummed when Alessandro was near… or when she lied for him.
The bond reacted.
Damn it.
“You look pale,” Sofia said.
“Are you unwell?”
“Uff,” Elara muttered.
“If this is concern, you’re terrible at it.”
Sofia’s eyes sharpened.
“You’re defensive.”
“I’m isolated,” Elara corrected.
“There’s a difference.”
Sofia studied her, gaze lingering too long, too precisely.
“Isolation makes people careless.”
“Or careful,” Elara said.
“Depends on whether they’re prey or observers.”
Something flickered behind Sofia’s eyes—amusement, perhaps.
Or annoyance.
“You’ve been protected,” Sofia said.
“That attracts attention.”
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“No one ever does.”
Silence settled between them, thick and watchful.
“Did he tell you,” Sofia asked softly, “why humans aren’t brought to Regina lightly?”
Elara’s heart kicked once.
She thought of Alessandro’s pause.
His restraint.
His fear.
She thought of the listening corridor.
She chose.
“No,” Elara said.
“He didn’t.”
The lie slid from her tongue like a blade wrapped in silk.
The bond tightened.
She sucked in a breath, fingers curling at her side.
Shit.
Sofia noticed.
Of course she did.
“Interesting,” Sofia murmured.
“You flinch when you lie.”
“I flinch when people pry,” Elara snapped.
“What the hell do you want, Sofia?”
Sofia’s smile cooled.
“Only to ensure you understand your position.”
“My position?” Elara scoffed.
“Is that before or after I become a cautionary tale?”
Sofia leaned in then, voice dropping.
“Do not make enemies you don’t understand.”
“Funny,” Elara shot back, “I was about to give you the same advice.”
For a moment, the air between them felt sharp enough to cut.
Then Sofia straightened.
“You should return to your rooms,” she said lightly.
“It’s late.”
“Is that an order?”
“No,” Sofia replied.
“A kindness.”
Elara snorted.
“How generous.”
She turned and walked away without waiting for dismissal.
Each step felt heavier, as if the stone itself resisted her leaving.
Halfway down the corridor, the bond tugged again—harder this time.
Not pain.
Pressure.
A warning.
She pressed a hand to her sternum.
“Ah,” she breathed.
“You feel that too, don’t you?”
Alessandro did.
Wherever he was.
The lie had reached him.
Outside, the night had fallen thick and soundless.
Elara crossed the outer passage alone, cloak drawn tight, senses stretched thin.
Regina’s shadows were not empty; they watched.
Her footsteps echoed.
Then—others.
Too soft.
Too measured.
She did not turn.
Don’t panic, she told herself.
Don’t run.
She adjusted her pace, slowed deliberately.
The steps behind her slowed too.
Her pulse spiked.
“Horse shit,” she muttered under her breath.
“Of course.”
She reached her door and slipped inside quickly, locking it with a sharp click.
Heart hammering, she leaned against the wood, listening.
Silence.
Then—
A faint scrape.
Cloth against stone.
Someone exhaled on the other side.
Elara closed her eyes.
“Fuck.”
The bond tightened once more—urgent now, almost angry.
Somewhere in Regina, Alessandro felt it.
And outside her door, someone smiled.
Elara did not sleep.
She lay on her bed fully clothed, boots still on, the candle at her bedside burning low as if even flame feared the room.
The walls of Regina were thick—stone upon stone upon older stone—but they had never felt solid.
Tonight, they breathed.
She listened.
Once.
Twice.
Nothing.
Then—
A shift.
Not sound.
Presence.
Her fingers curled into the coverlet.
“What the hell,” she whispered.
“I’m not imagining this.”
The bond pulsed in her chest—tight, sharp, offended.
It was not fear this time.
It was disapproval.
“You don’t like lies,” she murmured.
“That’s rich, considering where I’m living.”
The pressure increased, a subtle ache that made her ribs feel too narrow for her heart.
She hissed softly.
“Shit.
Alright.
I get it.”
Somewhere beyond the walls, Alessandro knew.
Not what she had said.
But that she had lied for him.
And the bond—treacherous thing—had marked it.
A soft knock touched the door.
Not loud.
Not polite.
Measured.
Elara sat up slowly.
“Go to hell,” she muttered, voice low.
Another knock.
Then a voice, smooth as oil.
“You lock your door like a frightened child.”
Lucia De Luca.
Elara closed her eyes.
Of course it’s you.
“What do you want?” she called.
“A conversation.”
“At this hour?”
Lucia laughed softly.
“Regina doesn’t keep human hours.”
“Lucky Regina,” Elara said.
“I do.”
Silence stretched.
Then Lucia spoke again, closer now.
“You were followed.”
Elara’s spine went cold.
“That’s not news.”
“And yet,” Lucia continued, “you did not run.”
Elara rose, every movement deliberate.
She did not approach the door.
“You’d enjoy it too much.”
A pause.
Then—approval, sharp and unpleasant.
“You’re learning,” Lucia said.
“But not quickly enough.”
Elara exhaled through her teeth.
“Say what you came to say.”
Lucia leaned against the door, her presence unmistakable.
“Sofia is watching you.”
“I noticed.”
“And you lied to her.”
Elara stiffened.
“Did she tell you that?”
“No,” Lucia replied lightly.
“The bond did.”
Elara’s breath caught.
“That’s… bullshit.”
“Is it?” Lucia’s tone sharpened.
“You think you’re the only one who can feel the Alpha’s restraint thinning?”
A flicker of heat stirred low in Elara’s chest—anger, instinctive and sharp.
“I didn’t ask for any of this.”
Lucia scoffed.
“No one ever does, brat.”
“Careful,” Elara snapped.
“You’re not my Alpha.”
The silence that followed was lethal.
Then Lucia laughed.
“Hilarious.
Truly.”
Her voice dropped.
“You should be terrified.”
“I’m not,” Elara said—and hated that it was true.
Lucia straightened.
“Someone else followed you tonight.
Not pack.”
Elara’s pulse spiked.
“What?”
“A watcher,” Lucia said.
“Old allegiance.
Disgusting loyalties.”
Elara’s hand tightened on the edge of the bed.
“And you’re telling me because…?”
“Because if you die,” Lucia replied coolly, “everything becomes inconvenient.”
The bond flared—sudden, violent.
Elara gasped, clutching her chest.
“Ah—what the—”
Lucia went still.
“He feels that.”
Across Regina, Alessandro’s control snapped.
The council chamber smelled of iron and old fire.
Alessandro stood at the head of the table, hands braced against stone, jaw locked so tightly it ached.
Marco Vitale hovered near the door, tense as a drawn wire.
“You felt it too,” Marco said quietly.
Alessandro did not answer.
The wolf raged beneath his skin—*she lied*, it snarled.
For you.
“She is isolated,” Marco continued.
“This was inevitable.”
Alessandro’s eyes flashed.
“Shut up.”
Marco flinched.
“Alessandro—”
“I said shut up.” His voice reverberated, low and dangerous.
The candles trembled.
A lesser Alpha across the table muttered, “What the hell—”
The stone beneath Alessandro’s palm cracked.
Silence slammed into the room.
He straightened slowly, breath controlled, eyes feral.
“End the meeting.”
“But—”
“Now.”
No one argued.
As the chamber emptied, Marco stepped closer.
“If you go to her like this—”
“I won’t touch her,” Alessandro snarled.
“I know the rules.”
“And yet,” Marco said grimly, “you’re already breaking them.”
Alessandro vanished into the corridor.
Elara’s door shuddered.
Not from impact.
From restraint.
The bond surged—overwhelming now, heat and command braided together.
She staggered back, heart racing.
“Alessandro,” she breathed.
“Don’t.”
The door remained closed.
His voice came through the stone, rough and fractured.
“Who followed you.”
Not a question.
Elara swallowed.
“Lucia says—”
“I didn’t ask what Lucia says.”
The air vibrated with control held by teeth.
“Elara,” he said, voice breaking on her name.
“Answer me.”
Her fingers trembled.
“I don’t know.
Someone not pack.”
A growl rippled through the corridor—deep, involuntary.
Lucia hissed from the shadows.
“Control yourself, Alpha.”
“Leave,” Alessandro snapped.
Lucia lingered a moment longer, amused.
“Careful.
She’s already lying for you.”
Then she was gone.
Elara pressed her forehead to the door.
“I didn’t want Sofia to know.”
“I know,” Alessandro said—and that hurt more than accusation.
“You shouldn’t.”
“Too late.”
The bond tightened painfully, reacting to the lie like a torn nerve.
“Damn it,” Elara whispered.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I never asked you to protect me,” Alessandro said harshly.
She laughed, brittle.
“Funny.
Because everything here feels like protection with teeth.”
Silence.
Then, quieter, “You don’t understand the cost.”
“Neither do you,” she shot back.
“You think distance keeps me safe?
It just leaves room for watchers.”
A pause.
The wolf stirred, furious and afraid.
Alessandro exhaled slowly.
“You are not to leave your rooms.”
Elara’s temper flared.
“Go to hell.”
“That is not a suggestion.”
She bristled.
“You don’t get to cage me.”
“I get to keep you alive.”
“That’s not the same thing!”
His voice dropped, raw.
“It is to me.”
The bond surged—agreement, possession, fear.
Elara sank onto the bed, exhausted.
“This is horse shit.”
A ghost of a sound escaped him—almost laughter.
Or pain.
“I will post guards,” Alessandro said.
“No touch.
No speech.”
“Like a relic.”
“Like something precious.”
The word hit harder than anger.
Outside the door, something shifted—retreated.
The watcher withdrew.
But not far.
Elara closed her eyes.
“You reacted violently.”
“I didn’t touch anyone,” Alessandro said tightly.
“No,” she replied.
“You didn’t have to.”
Another silence.
Then—so softly she almost missed it—”Do not lie again.”
She swallowed.
“I can’t promise that.”
“I know.”
The bond eased, just a fraction.
Enough to breathe.
Enough to know—
This was only the beginning.