Chapter 2: The Misunderstanding Deepens

(Daciana POV)

The old servant wing smelled of dust, cold stone, and forgotten tears that had dried long before I was born.

The guards did not meet my eyes as they led me down the narrow hallway where broken lamps threw weak shadows across the walls.

I had walked through this wing many times as Luna, bringing blankets, food, and medicine to servants who were too sick to work.

Now I was being brought there like a criminal, while the same servants watched from doorways with fear, pity, and secret hunger.

Nobody wanted to stand beside a fallen Luna, because standing beside me could make Alpha Bardolph turn his anger toward them.

The room they gave me was small, with one thin blanket, one cracked mirror, and one window facing the training yard.

I stared at the narrow bed and almost laughed, because Ashina had cleaned this room last month while calling me mercifully.

Now that same maid had pushed me into it, using tears as weapons and lies as keys to steal my place.

Lowell stood by the door after the others left, looking younger than his warrior uniform made him seem.

“My Luna, I am sorry,” he whispered, though his voice shook like someone afraid the walls might repeat him.

I looked at him carefully, because guilt had a sound, and Lowell’s guilt sounded more like fear than betrayal.

“Do not call me Luna if your Alpha has already stripped that name from me,” I said, forcing myself not to cry.

Lowell lowered his head, and the shame in his face told me he knew something he was too afraid to say.

“I found the box outside your chamber, but I did not place it there,” he said, speaking quickly before courage left him.

My breath caught, because one small truth had finally stepped out of the dark place where Ashina had hidden everything.

“Who ordered you to bring it to the hall?” I asked, moving closer while my wolf listened through my heartbeat.

Lowell looked toward the hallway, then back at me, and his hands tightened around the spear he held.

“Beta Hrolf told me the Alpha wanted it presented before everyone, but I never heard the Alpha give that order himself.”

His answer sent a cold warning through me because Hrolf had served Bardolph’s father and hated every peace treaty I supported.

Hrolf had smiled when Bardolph marked me as Luna, but his eyes had always measured my throat like a weak point.

Before I could ask more, footsteps sounded outside the room, and Lowell stepped back as if the truth had burned his tongue.

Ashina appeared in the doorway wearing a soft gray dress, her eyes red enough to fool anyone who wanted to believe her pain.

The sight of her standing there like a wounded angel made my wolf snarl so loudly inside me that my claws almost came out.

“Lowell, the Alpha, asked that no guard speak privately with the accused Luna,” Ashina said, and her sweet voice carried hidden command.

Lowell stiffened immediately because Ashina already spoke with the confidence of someone who knew Bardolph would protect her.

He left without another word, but his quick glance at me promised that fear had not fully killed his conscience.

Ashina stepped inside and closed the door gently, as if she had come to comfort me instead of bury me.

“You should not look so proud in a servant room, Daciana,” she said softly, letting my title fall like a dead thing.

I lifted my chin, though my heart still ached from Bardolph’s face when he chose her tears over my truth.

“Pride is all you left me after stealing my name, my room, and my mate’s trust,” I said calmly.

Ashina smiled then, no tears, no trembling, no sweet mask, only the hungry woman hiding beneath the maid’s dress.

“I did not steal anything that was not already slipping from your hands,” she said, moving toward the cracked mirror.

Her reflection stood beside mine, and I hated how small and tired I looked next to her careful beauty.

“You think Bardolph loves you because the moon chose you, but men like him also need worship, weakness, and warm arms at night.”

The words struck me harder than I wanted them to, because something in her voice sounded too sure to be only a threat.

I remembered the strange pain I had felt through the mate bond last night, the pain that drove me to the healing room alone.

My stomach twisted as a terrible question rose inside me, but I refused to let Ashina see it break my face.

“What did you do last night?” I asked, and my voice became quiet enough to sound more dangerous than a scream.

Ashina touched the side of her neck, where a scarf covered skin I suddenly wanted to rip open with my claws.

“I comforted your Alpha when he believed his Luna had betrayed him,” she said, and every word carried a cruel little smile.

The room tilted beneath me because the mate bond flared with pain as if it remembered what my mind could not prove.

“You are lying,” I whispered, but my wolf did not answer because even she felt something broken in the bond.

Ashina leaned closer, letting her perfume crawl into my lungs like smoke from a poisoned fire.

“Ask him why he smelled like jasmine this morning, then ask yourself why he could not look at your mouth without guilt.”

For one moment, I wanted to strike her so badly that my hand shook with the need for violence.

But Ashina wanted that, because a single scratch on her skin would become another knife placed against my throat.

So I smiled instead, though the smile felt like glass cutting through my own lips.

“You are brave when the Alpha is near, Ashina, but stolen warmth becomes cold when the truth begins to breathe.”

Her smile faded for the first time, and I saw fear move behind her eyes like a mouse under a floorboard.

Then she stepped back and opened the door, returning her frightened mask before anyone in the hallway could see the monster.

“I only came to ask what dress you want sent to your punishment hearing,” she said loudly, making two servants stop and stare.

My blood went cold because nobody had told me there would be a punishment hearing before the elders.

“What punishment hearing?” I asked, but Ashina’s eyes had already filled with false pity again.

“The Alpha will decide whether to reject you before the pack tonight,” she said, soft enough to sound merciful.

The hallway spun around me, and for a second I could not breathe because rejection was worse than losing a title.

A Luna could be removed and still live, but a rejected mate carried a wound that never fully closed.

Ashina looked at my pain like it was a feast prepared only for her, and I knew she wanted me broken before sunset.

When she finally left, I sank onto the narrow bed and pressed both hands against the mark on my shoulder.

The mark still pulsed with Bardolph’s power, but now it felt like a chain tied between two people drowning apart.

I closed my eyes and remembered the night he claimed me under the blood moon, when his hands trembled against my face.

He had promised that no lie, enemy, or crown would ever stand between his wolf and mine.

Now one maid’s soft voice had done what enemy armies had failed to do, and that truth nearly destroyed me.

(Bardolph POV)

I stood alone in my study, staring at the letters that accused my mate while my wolf tore at my control.

Every line looked like Daciana’s hand, but every memory of her eyes told me she could never sell my pack to Conri.

That was the worst part, because my mind saw proof while my bond screamed that something was wrong.

Hrolf stood across from me, silent and patient, with his scarred hands folded behind his back like a loyal servant.

“You are hesitating because she is your mate,” Hrolf said, and his calm voice made my wolf bare his teeth.

“I am hesitating because the truth has begun to feel too neat,” I answered, throwing one letter onto the desk.

Hrolf’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he hid the reaction beneath years of practice and old warrior discipline.

“Betrayal often feels neat after it succeeds, Alpha, because the guilty have already planned every answer before they are questioned.”

His words made sense, and I hated him because sense could be more dangerous than anger.

I turned toward the window and saw Daciana below, standing behind the servant wing glass with one hand on her mark.

Pain struck my chest so sharply that I gripped the window frame because the bond still recognized her as mine.

My wolf growled her name, not with rage but with grief, and that weakness made me furious at myself.

“She looked me in the eyes and denied everything,” I said, though I did not know whether I spoke to Hrolf or myself.

“Most traitors deny truth until the rope tightens,” Hrolf replied, stepping closer as if he had waited for that opening.

Before I could answer, the door opened without a knock, and Ashina entered carrying tea with trembling hands.

I should have ordered her out, but the sight of her red eyes pulled at the guilt I was trying to bury.

“My Alpha, forgive me, I only thought you had not eaten since sunrise,” she said, lowering her head with perfect obedience.

Hrolf watched her with approval, and that alone should have made me question why he trusted her so quickly.

Ashina placed the tea on my desk, then winced as if the movement hurt her wounded hand.

The bandage around her palm was stained red, and my wolf went quiet because injured pack members were my burden to protect.

“You should be resting,” I said, though the words sounded colder than I meant them to sound.

“I cannot rest while my Alpha suffers because I told the truth,” Ashina whispered, and tears gathered again in her eyes.

I looked away because her tears made me feel cruel, and Daciana’s silence made me feel worse.

Ashina stepped closer, but not too close, only near enough for her jasmine scent to touch the air between us.

The scent pulled me back to last night, to confusion, pain, and the terrible moment I let weakness become comfort.

I had not marked Ashina, but I had let her hold me when I believed my mate had chosen another Alpha.

That memory burned with shame, and shame quickly became anger because anger was easier for an Alpha to carry.

“Leave us,” I ordered Hrolf, needing one moment without old eyes watching the pieces of my life collapse.

Hrolf bowed and left, though his mouth tightened as if my private grief displeased him.

Ashina remained near the desk, her face soft with fear, and I hated that I could not read her as clearly as Daciana.

“My Alpha, she will use the bond to weaken you tonight,” Ashina said, making my eyes snap back to hers.

“What do you know about the bond?” I asked, because no maid should speak of a sacred mate bond so easily.

Ashina lowered her gaze at once, but I had already seen the quick flash of panic beneath her lashes.

“Only what servants hear when healers talk,” she said, but her answer came too quickly to feel clean.

A knock saved her from my next question, and Farkas entered before I gave permission because he was too old to fear doors.

“Alpha, I checked the letters again,” Farkas said, ignoring Ashina as if she were furniture placed in the wrong room.

“And?” I asked, feeling my wolf rise with a hope I did not want to admit.

“The handwriting is close, but the pressure is wrong, and the seal wax smells of our own storehouse, not Northridge.”

Ashina dropped the cup.

The sound cracked through the room like a bone breaking, and every eye turned toward the tea spilling across the floor.

She bent quickly to clean it, but not before I saw the blood drain from her face.

Farkas watched her now, and for the first time that day, someone looked at the maid the way I should have looked sooner.

“What else?” I asked, though my voice had changed into the cold tone my enemies feared most.

Farkas stepped closer and placed a small black thread on my desk, taken from the ribbon around the letters.

“This thread belongs to the mourning cloth used in the east storage room, where only elders, healers, and senior servants have keys.”

My heart pounded once, hard and ugly, because Ashina had been given senior servant keys when Daciana made her personal maid.

Ashina lifted her face slowly, and tears rolled down her cheeks before anyone accused her of anything.

“My Alpha, she is doing this again,” Ashina cried, pointing toward the window where Daciana still stood far below.

I followed her finger and saw Daciana looking up at my study, her pale face unreadable behind the dirty glass.

For one breath, the world felt split between the woman my wolf loved and the maid who had proof of pain.

Then a warrior burst into the study, breathing hard and carrying a broken arrow wrapped in black cloth.

“Alpha, a border patrol was attacked near the north road,” he said, lowering his head as blood dripped from his sleeve.

My body went still because the north road was one of the routes named inside the letters found in Daciana’s room.

“Who attacked them?” I asked, already fearing the answer before the warrior forced it through his teeth.

“Northridge wolves, Alpha, and they carried a message saying Luna Daciana opened the way for them.”

(Daciana POV)

I heard the alarm bells before I saw the smoke rising beyond the trees near the northern border.

Every servant in the wing began running, but my door was locked from outside, trapping me like an animal waiting for slaughter.

I slammed my shoulder against the wood, calling for Lowell, Bardolph, anyone who still remembered I had once protected them.

Nobody answered, and the bells kept screaming while my wolf paced inside me with a terror that did not belong only to us.

Then something struck the window, and a small stone rolled across the floor with paper tied around it.

I rushed toward it, untied the note, and felt my blood freeze as I read the words written in rushed black ink.

“Run before sunset, Daciana, because Ashina’s second lie will not send you to the servant wing.”

My hands shook so badly that the paper almost tore between my fingers before I reached the final line.

“It will send you to your grave.”