8:33 PM
Chapter 89
Chapter 89
I collapsed against the wall the moment the door slammed shut behind me, my chest heaving like I’d just been dragged from the depths of some storm.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think.
His hands–those cursed, inhuman hands–had nearly crushed my throat. I touched the spot gently. The skin there throbbed, red–hot and raw. I should’ve been used to pain. I wasn’t.
What the hell just happened?
How did it get this far?
I was shaking. Actually shaking. And not just from fear. No, this was something deeper–rage, humiliation, heartbreak. All of it twisting into one sharp knife I didn’t know where to drive. Into Harden’s chest? Into Liana’s spine? Or maybe into my own damn ribs.
Why her?
Why not me?
He was never supposed to care about her. He was never supposed to look at her the way he used to look at me. Harden was mine. My plan. My ambition. My bloody sacrifice.
Tears filled my eyes and I bit them back, furious at myself. I hated crying. Weakness. That’s what it was. And I had no space left for weakness.
I paced the corridor outside his chambers, nearly stumbling in my heels. The guards down the hall pretended not to notice. Maybe they were too afraid. Maybe they just didn’t care. Either way, I was alone again.
Like always.
“Stupid,” I muttered, gripping the edge of a pillar to steady myself. “You should’ve known better.”
He said it so clearly. That I tricked him. That I wasn’t his mate. That all I was good for was utility, Strategy. Nothing more. No wonder he tossed me aside like last night’s wine.
And yet…
And yet when he looked at me, I saw a flicker of what we used to be.
That brief time, years ago, when I thought the universe had finally stopped laughing at me. When I thought, for once, I could be the girl someone chose.
And now?
He’s choosing her.
The wolf girl. The orphan. The omega who used to sit by the door waiting for me to come home,
“Liana,” I hissed, her name sour on my tongue. “You don’t even know what you’ve walked into.”
I pushed off the pillar, the sharp tap of my shoes echoing through the corridor like a drumbeat of defiance. My neck still ached, my pride still burned, but none of that mattered anymore. Harden wanted war? Fine. I would give it to him. But not with swords or claws. I’d hit him where it hurt.
Through her.
I wasn’t stupid. I saw the way he looked at her–the hesitations, the softening. He might not realize it yet, but she was becoming his weakness. And I had always been very good at exploiting those.
My chambers were on the other end of the east wing. Too far for the mood I was in. I needed to act now, I needed a plan.
No. I already had one.
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Chapter 89
It was time to make the call.
I slammed the door behind me, heart pounding. The fire crackled in the hearth, but it did nothing to chase away the cold growing in my chest. I ripped off my earrings and tossed them onto the table, then moved to the ornate chest at the foot of my bed. Beneath silk- lined dresses and the jewels Harden once gifted me—I found it.
A small, black mirror.
Bound in ashwood.
Carved with runes I never bothered to learn.
I held it up to the candlelight. My reflection stared back–tired, furious, but still beautiful. Still dangerous.
“Time to wake up,” I whispered, and placed it flat on the table.
A beat passed.
Then two.
And And then it shimmered.
A shape flickered in the glass–sharp eyes, a grin too cruel to be comforting.
“Well, well,” the voice drawled, lazy and velvet. “If it isn’t the Queen of Almost.”
“Don’t start with me.”
“Mm.” The man chuckled. “You only ever call when you’ve been scorned. Who did it this time? Harden again? Or did your sister find another crown to trip over?”
My jaw tightened. “I need your help.”
“Of course you do.”
“I have access to the palace. I can get you names. Schedules. Maps.”
“Tempting.” He leaned forward, his image sharpening. His eyes gleamed unnaturally bright. “But what do you want, Amira?”
I hesitated.
He smiled wider. “Revenge? Power? Or is it love, again?”
My nails dug into the wood. “I want her gone.”
“Liana?”
I nodded.
The man tilted his head. “Why her?”
I hated how soft that question sounded. I hated the way it stirred something raw inside me.
“She ruined everything.”
“Funny. That’s what she probably says about you.”
I nearly slammed the mirror shut. “Are you helping me or not?”
He smirked. “Tell me something useful first. A secret. One Harden doesn’t even know.”
I inhaled slowly, staring into his too–hungry eyes.
“There’s a spell,” I murmured. “Already in motion. I started it the night Brielle died.”
That wiped the smirk from his face.
“Two more,” I said. “Two more maidens and the petals will fall. Alaric will lose his soul. And everyone in that cursed castle of his will
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Chapter 89
crumble to ash.”
The man stared at me in silence.
“Now,” I whispered, “are you in?”
He smiled again. But this time, it was sharp. Hollow.
“Oh, darling,” he said. “I’ve always been in.”
I shut the mirror.
Locked it away again.
I stood for a long time, staring into the flames until my legs ached.
This wasn’t about love anymore.
It never was.
It was about winning.
And I was done losing.
Liana’s POV
I was mid–laugh.
It wasn’t even a full one–just a soft exhale, that sort of sound that slipped out before you even realized you were smiling. Elenora had just made some snarky comment about a stuck–up councilman who apparently wore more perfume than his wife, and I’d nearly spilled water on the table trying not to laugh too loud.
For a second, it felt normal. Just two girls chatting in a quiet corner of the gardens, watching the sun begin to dip low behind the crooked towers of the nor
thern palace.
“You’re not so bad for a southern girl,” Elenora said, kicking her slippered foot forward. “Though I’d still bet on myself in a fight.”
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AD
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