Celestine
The walls of my room have always been too white.
I guess they were supposed to soothe a sick person’s mind, only that I wasn’t sick.
My fingers drum against the worn leather of the armchair, the one piece of furniture I insisted on keeping when they tried to replace everything with “softer, safer” options after my last…
episode.
The fabric is smooth beneath my fingertips.
I’ve learned to appreciate small textures like this.
They ground me.
The phone on my nightstand rang and I picked it.
“It’s done,” Connor said, “The border ambush worked.
Magnus is gravely wounded.”
A smile spread across my face at the news.
It was the best one I have had in years.
I turned to look at the mirror as I discussed with Connor.
I was no longer looking like the fragile girl, I had carefully maintained.
Magnus.
The cruel Shadow Alpha.
Who I had just found out was helping Aysel for reasons I still couldn’t fully understand.
For now, at least, he had been removed from the board.
Connor had spent years waiting for a moment like this.
As Ulric’s younger brother and one of the most powerful members of Shadowbane, he had always lived in the shadow of a throne he believed should have been his.
Unlike reckless men who chased power openly, Connor preferred patience.
He rarely struck first.
Instead, he watched, waited, and turned misfortune into opportunity.
When Alpha Ulric had begun falling ill, Connor had quietly used his influence over the pack’s physicians to conceal the severity of his condition and delay treatment.
By the time the truth emerged, it was already too late.
He had been one step away from claiming the pack for himself before Bastien intervened and placed his nephew, young Magnus on the path to succession.
Connor had never forgiven that.
Since then, he had spent years circling the throne like a vulture, exploiting every crack he could find.
When removing Magnus directly proved impossible, he had allied himself with people willing to do what he could not.
Kael’s death.
The growing instability at the borders.
The endless attacks designed to weaken Magnus from all sides.
Connor’s fingerprints were never visible, but they were always there.
And now, with Magnus lying wounded, another opportunity had presented itself.
The kind Connor found impossible to resist.
I ran my fingers along the edge of the mirror, tracing my own reflection, marveling at the clarity I allowed myself in these rare moments of privacy.
“You sound worried,” I said finally.
“That’s interesting.
I would have expected a celebration.”
“Celestine.” His voice dropped lower, and I heard the shuffle of fabric as if he was checking his surroundings and making sure he was alone.
Paranoid.
“I didn’t anticipate things going this far.
The attack was more brutal than I expected.
They almost killed him.”
“And yet they didn’t.”
“That’s not the point.”
“The point,” I said, turning away from the mirror to pace the room’s perimeter, “is that we have a window.
A small one, but a window nonetheless.
Magnus was Aysel’s anchor.
Without him, she’s adrift.”
I paused at the window, pressing my palm flat against the cool glass.
“There’s something else,” Connor said, and I heard him swallow hard.
“Magnus has been reinvestigating the past.
The attacks, the…”
“The events,” I cut him off, my voice flat.
“We don’t need to name them.”
“Someone’s going to find something.
The deeper they dig, the more likely….”
“They won’t.” I said firmly.
“We’ve spent this long searching for Kael’s lieutenant without success.
The records are gone, Connor.
Burned, buried, scattered to the winds.
Even if there’s evidence somewhere, there’s no way they’ll find it.”
I let a small smile curve across my lips as I added, almost as an afterthought: “The arrangements from back then were airtight.”
“I need you to understand,” I continued, pacing again.
“They won’t find anything.
I made sure of that.
Every document destroyed, every witness accounted for, every loose end…”
I stopped myself.
That was enough.
More than enough.
“You sound certain,” Connor said, and I caught the edge of something in his voice.
Respect, maybe.
Or fear.
Both served the same purpose.
“I am certain.” I stopped in front of the mirror again, studying my reflection.
The woman looking back at me was composed, calculating, utterly in control.
She was the real me.
“Which is why we need to strike now.
While this window of opportunity remains open.
Aysel’s vulnerable, Connor.
Off-balance.
We can use that.”
I reached for the small notepad beside my bed, scribbling down her address from memory.
“Are you writing this down?” I asked, waiting for his murmured assent before continuing.
“Good.
I’m going to give you an address in New York.
She’s staying there while she’s in the city.
I want you to hit her while she’s isolated, while Magnus is out of the picture.”
“Celestine, that’s…”
“Human territory.
I know.
Which is why I’m telling you to keep things within bounds.
We can’t afford to go too far..this is their world, their rules.
But we can disrupt Magnus’s investigation.
It would make him think twice about digging any deeper.”
The paper crinkled as I folded it.
I thought about Aysel’s face, the determination in her eyes, the way she carried herself like someone who had never truly been broken.
I thought about how satisfying it would be to watch that confidence fracture.
“The goal is disruption,” I continued, my voice taking on an instructional tone, as if I were explaining something simple to a slow student.
“Not destruction.
We need her alive, we need her confused, and we need her looking in the wrong direction.
Can you do that for me, Connor?”
“I…” He hesitated, and I could picture him running his hand through his hair, that nervous gesture he’d never quite managed to conquer.
“Yes.
Yes, I can do that.”
“Good.” I allowed a note of approval to seep into my voice, a small reward for his compliance.
“Then do it.
And Connor?”
“Yes?”
“Remember who you’re working for.”
The threat was subtle, wrapped in silk and delivered with a smile he couldn’t see.
But he understood.
Connor always understood.
I was just setting the receiver back in its cradle when I heard footsteps in the hallway, growing louder with each passing second.
Evelyn.
The transformation happened in an instant, a practiced shift that had become as natural as breathing.
I felt my spine soften, my shoulders hunch forward slightly.
My jaw went slack, and I let my eyes unfocus just a fraction, letting that glassy, distant quality settle over my gaze.
I pressed my lips together in a trembling line in a perfect picture of fragility.
Evelyn opened the door with a sympathetic smile on her face.
I didn’t know how much she had heard.
I didn’t know if the footsteps had already been approaching when I was speaking to Connor, or if she had arrived just as I was hanging up.
The uncertainty twisted in my stomach but I didn’t let it show.
Instead, I let my lower lip tremble slightly.
I could just play sick and find out if she has truly heard anything.
I need to know if I was going to have to get rid of her sooner than I wanted.