Chapter 3

Zane

The morning light hitting the eastern spires of Duskhaven didn't feel like dawn; it felt like a harsh, unsparing spotlight on a stage where the set pieces were actively sliding apart.

I stood in the center of my study, leaning heavily against the dark mahogany desk while a dull, throbbing migraine hammered relentlessly behind my eyes. My suit jacket was discarded in a crumpled heap, my shirt collar unbuttoned, and the air in the room still smelled stale, heavy with the lingering scent of old coffee and the creeping panic of a sleepless night.

Before I could even reach for a glass of water, the heavy oak doors swung open without a single polite knock.

Nella sauntered into the room, wrapped in a sheer silk robe, her long dark hair tumbling in disarray over her bare shoulders. She looked flushed and rested—a stark, infuriating contrast to the hollow-eyed exhaustion tearing through my chest.

“Babe,” Nella whined, pressing her chest against my back and trailing her fingernails lazily across my lapel. “You need to come downstairs. The eastern trade representatives are raising hell in the main hall. They’re making a massive fuss about export stamps and quarterly tax clearances.”

I gripped the edge of the polished wood so hard my knuckles turned stark white. “Tell them to wait. My mother is handling the administrative reallocation.”

“I did tell them that!” Nella snapped, pulling back with a sharp pout. “And your mother tried to sign the ledger herself! But when she pressed her ring to the log, the elder seal completely rejected her signature! The trade delegation says only the registered Luna’s seal or a primary administrative token can clear the northern ports. Right now, our entire winter grain and textile supply is frozen dead at the border!”

A cold, vicious spike of dread twisted deep in my gut. I had forgotten. In my blind rush to strip her of her title, I had completely forgotten the machinery keeping us alive. Mira hadn't just managed household chores; she had held the entire legal, financial, and logistical infrastructure of Duskhaven together with a suffocating, flawless precision.

“Where is Sarah?” I demanded, turning around so fast Nella stumbled back.

“In the corridor,” Nella muttered, crossing her arms with a scowl. “Looking like she’s about to commit murder.”

I didn't wait. I shoved past Nella, strode down the grand corridor, and found my mother pacing near the top of the marble staircase, her face pale.

“Mother,” I barked. “The eastern delegation. Why didn't your signature clear the ledger?”

“Because the foundational governance charter is bound directly to Mira’s administrative token and seal,” Sarah hissed, her voice vibrating with a sharp fury. “She holds the master keys to the pack’s treasury authentication system. I tried to override it using my elder clearance, but the central council elders won't touch it without her formal relinquishment papers clearing the registry first.”

“Then we get those papers signed right now,” I snarled, a wave of hot panic breaking through my exhaustion. “Get the guards. We’re going down to the servant quarters. If she won't sign willingly after a night in the cold, we'll force her thumbprint. I don't care if she's screaming; she will not make a fool of me in my own pack.”

Four elite guards were summoned within minutes. We marched down the long, freezing corridors toward the damp, forgotten outer estate where Mira had been locked away. Every step felt heavier than the last, an ugly premonition crawling up my neck.

When we reached the end of the stone hall, the heavy iron door of the servant quarters was still locked. I motioned for the guard to turn the key, and the heavy bolt slid back with a loud, echoing snap.

I shoved the door open and stepped inside.

Mira was sitting on the edge of the narrow cot, her back straight, her hands resting quietly in her lap. She looked cold, tired, and pale, but when she lifted her chin and looked at me, there was no fear in her eyes. Only a quiet, terrifying amusement.

“You look terrible, Zane,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the silence of the room.

“Save your breath,” I spat, stepping forward and slamming the thick stack of relinquishment papers onto the small wooden table—bringing them back to her for the second time in less than twelve hours hurt my pride. “Sign them. Right now. Clear the trade ledgers and hand over the seals.

Mira didn't even look down at the papers. Instead, a short, sharp laugh escaped her throat—a sound so dry and genuinely amused that it stopped me dead in my tracks.

“You came back,” she murmured, shaking her head as she looked at the parchment on the table before raising her dark, luminous eyes to mine. “You marched all the way down to this damp cell at sunrise, carrying the exact same papers you begged and threatened me with last night, because you just realized your entire pack is starving and your treasury is locked tight.”

“Sign the damn papers, Mira,” I growled, my face burning with sudden rage as her words hit too close to the truth.

She stood up slowly, smoothing down her sweater, her smile fading into a look of absolute, lethal ice.

“And if I refuse a second time?” she asked softly.

“Then you stay in this hole until you rot,” I snarled, losing my temper completely as I stepped into her space. “You think you’ve won because your little administrative seal is locking the vaults? Don't flatter yourself. You were nothing more than an unranked omega stray when I found you—I was the one who elevated your status, and I was the one who gave you that seal, not some mighty bloodline! I don't need your signature to break you. If you won't yield, I’ll strip everything from you right this instant. I’ll drag you to the scaffold right now, declare you a traitor to the pack, and execute you here and now. Once you’re dead, the elders will have no legal choice but to revert the administrative seals back to the reigning Alpha—to me and Nella.”

The room went dead silent. My mother gasped softly behind me, horrified by the sudden escalation, but I was past reason.

Mira stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. Then, a slow, terrifying smile spread across her face, and she let out a quiet, breathtaking laugh.

“Too bad, Zane,” she whispered, her voice steady as iron, her gaze burning with a fierce, incandescent light that chilled me to the bone. “You gave me that seal, and now I am going to have you beg for it.”

A dark, icy dread washed over my chest, whispering that I had just crossed a line I could never walk back from. But my pride was a cage, and I was too far gone to turn back.

“Grab her,” I ordered the guards, my voice cracking slightly with malice. “Drag her to the central courtyard. We’re executing her right now.”