The world around me went still. Not a leaf stirred. Not a single sound broke through the suffocating silence. Warriors stood frozen in place, breath caught in their throats. All eyes were on us. But I saw only Felicia.
Her eyes locked on mine across the bloodstained battlefield, wide with disbelief. Her hands trembled at her sides. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths. I could see it—feel it—the way my words had cracked something inside her.
He killed your brother.
The truth hung in the air like a noose.
She blinked at me, as if she hadn’t heard it right. As if she needed me to say it again just to believe it was real. Her voice, when it finally came, was soft and broken.
“What are you talking about, Damien?”
I stepped forward, slowly, deliberately. Not as an Alpha. Not as a warrior.
As a man who had nothing left to hide.
“I’m talking about Lucien,” I said, my voice low but clear. “About the lies he’s fed you. The illusion he’s built around you and the boys. You think he’s protecting you? You think he’s keeping you safe?”
I scoffed, shaking my head. The bitterness burned in my chest. “He’s the reason your family is broken, Felicia.”
She flinched, like the words physically hit her. Her fists clenched. “Stop being vague, Damien. If you’re going to accuse him—accuse anyone—then say it. Say everything.”
I took a breath through my teeth, jaw tightening, fighting the war raging inside me. My wolf clawed at the surface, feral and snarling. But I forced control. I had to give her the truth. All of it.
“You know about the rogue attack on my pack,” I said, voice colder now.
She nodded, slow. “Everyone does.”
“They weren’t there to stir chaos. They had a target. They went for the clairvoyant.”
Her eyes widened. I saw it land. Killing a pack’s clairvoyant wasn’t an attack. It was an execution. It was strategy.
“That’s not all,” I continued, stepping closer. “We caught one of them. A rogue who should’ve been dead ten times over. And do you know what he said?”
I looked her dead in the eye.
“He said Lucien sent him.”
Silence. Like the world itself had stopped breathing.
Felicia’s knees looked like they might give way beneath her. She turned—slow, mechanical—to face Lucien.
“Is this true?” she whispered.
Lucien’s eyes, always gleaming like polished gold, widened slightly. Just slightly. Enough for me to see it. The crack in his mask.
She stepped closer, her voice breaking. “Lucien… is what he’s saying true?”
For a moment, Lucien said nothing. Then he forced his expression into something calm. Controlled. Too controlled.
“It’s not,” he said.
Her breath hitched.
“I didn’t do it,” he continued, stepping forward. “Felicia, I would never hurt your family. You know me.”
That’s the problem, I thought. She did. Or thought she did.
But her eyes were shifting. I saw it.
She turned to me again, confused and desperate. “Why would the rogue say that? Why would he lie?”
“They don’t lie when they’re dying,” I said quietly, with absolute certainty. “There was no reason to. No time to. Just truth.”
Lucien scoffed. “You’re taking the word of a dying traitor over mine?”
“I’m taking the word of a man who had nothing left to lose,” I shot back. Then, more softly—to her, only to her—“And deep down, Felicia… you know I’m right.”
She stumbled back half a step, arms wrapping around herself like she needed something to hold her together.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed, sharp now. “You’re doubting me?”
Felicia didn’t respond immediately. But I watched her closely. Her silence was louder than any scream. Her gaze drifted to Lucien. Not with trust. Not with warmth. But with question.
She was seeing him. Finally seeing him.
And it rattled him.
“I told you the truth,” Lucien snapped, his voice cracking under pressure.
I moved beside her, close enough to shield her if this went sideways. “He’s been attacking my borders for months,” I said. “Testing us. Weakening us. It wasn’t random. It was calculated. And when we were exposed—he struck. He killed your brother. The one man who stood between him and everything he wanted.”
Felicia’s voice was barely audible. “It doesn’t make sense…”
Lucien laughed, low and cold. “Exactly. Think, Felicia. If I wanted Damien dead, I’d have done it already. You know that.”