Chapter 2. A Final Service

Agatha POV

I didn’t leave Aurora’s room until I was absolutely certain she was fast asleep. The girl had been restless for most of the day, her mind caught between worry for her brother and resentment at her father’s relentless demands. For a week now, this had been our routine: she would return from the daily meetings at the royal hall, complain bitterly about being sent away, and then crumble under the weight of worry for Elric. She loved that boy deeply, despite the way he treated her, and her care had always been unrequited.

Elric had been a menace during his time in the pack, tormenting Aurora in ways that were subtle and cruel, yet insidious enough to leave scars on her heart. Their mother was gone, and Elric was the product of an illicit affair their father had with one of the maids—a woman he had later elevated to pack leader in a distant village, a place destroyed during the war. Aurora had grown up in a shadow she never deserved, forced to cheer for a brother who had never truly valued her.

Elric had been good for nothing while under their father’s roof—sleeping with countless women, including some of the maids, stirring chaos, and constantly challenging the authority of the pack. Yet despite his flaws, their father’s affections were clearly reserved for him. Aurora, in sharp contrast, was intelligent, capable, and resilient—a born leader, a warrior by blood. She never complained, never demanded recognition for her birthright. Instead, she quietly endured, supporting Elric even as he disrespected her time and again.

Despite my apprehensions, I couldn’t deny that a glimmer of hope had surfaced with Elric’s absence. Maybe now, Aurora would finally have a chance to step into her rightful role, to lead the pack if it ever recovered from the devastation of the war. That thought alone brought a flicker of warmth to my otherwise weary heart.

Once Aurora’s soft breathing assured me she was asleep, I quietly shut her door behind me and moved on to other duties. Ever since our return from the temple after the war, the workload around the pack house had increased exponentially. Many of the maids were dead, missing, or gravely injured and still receiving treatment. Nearly a month had passed, and we had yet to recover fully from the chaos wrought by the Valeborns’ attack.

I made my way downstairs, broom in hand, toward the pack leader’s office. I had taken it upon myself to personally oversee the cleaning of this area—not because of any loyalty to him, but because it offered a vantage point. Since Aurora wasn’t permitted to attend the pack meetings, I could sometimes catch snippets of his private conversations and relay critical information to her. It was the least I could do to assuage her desperate need to know about her brother’s safety.

Once inside the office, I set to work. I dusted each shelf meticulously, carefully rearranged the documents, and swept the floor until the polished wood gleamed. The adjoining room was empty, the silence punctuated only by the soft brush of my broom. Satisfied with my work, I began packing up, intent on leaving quietly.

Then I heard voices outside. My heart lurched. Someone was approaching.

I could have stepped into plain view and greeted whoever entered, then left if prompted, but instinct told me to hide. I ducked behind the nearest bookshelf, peering cautiously as the pack leader—Aurora’s father—and his second-in-command entered the room. My blood ran cold as I realized what I was about to overhear might cost me everything I held dear: my life.

***

“I want all the information sent to me as soon as possible. And don’t involve the rest of the committee—we can’t trust anyone at such a critical time,” the pack leader said, his voice sharp and commanding.

“Okay, sir. Did you actually mean what you said back there, though?” his aide asked hesitantly.

“About what?”

“About Aurora, sir…?”

“Lower your voice, you twit. Yes, I did. Make all necessary arrangements. She leaves at sunrise.”

A shiver ran down my spine. My heart thudded violently against my ribs, a warning I dared not ignore.

“Have you considered that there might be a slight chance he won’t keep his end of the bargain…?”

“We can only try. And anyway, she’s dead weight here. If we can exchange her for my boy, it’s better. I know he’ll rebuild this pack and return it to its former glory. I need him here. Her, though… not anymore.”

“She’s your daughter, sir…”

“Shut your mouth and follow my orders. Immediately.”

Marcellus began to turn and leave. I exhaled silently, thinking I had escaped detection. My hands were shaking, my fingers clutching the broom so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Then it happened. My elbow accidentally brushed a book perched precariously on the edge of the shelf. It toppled to the floor with a loud thud. My stomach dropped as my heart skipped a beat.

Marcellus froze, and the pack leader’s head snapped toward the noise, his eyes narrowing.

“What’s that?!” he thundered, striding toward the shelves with deliberate menace.

There was no escape. I slowly stepped out from behind the bookshelf, holding the broom like a fragile shield.

“I—I’m so sorry, my lord,” I stammered, my voice quivering. “I was cleaning and accidentally knocked the book down.” I bent hastily to pick it up, hoping my humility would protect me. “I’ll just pack up and leave at once…”

“Unfortunately, it’s a bit too late for that now, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone was icy, each word a blade against my skin.

I clutched the book to my chest and lowered my gaze, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I promise I won’t mention anything to anyone, my lord. I’ll pretend I was never here. Please, pardon me…”

“As I said, Agatha, it’s a bit too late for that now. Kneel and mutter your final prayers to the Moon Goddess.”

My knees gave way before my will, and I lowered myself to the ground, hands trembling, body rigid with fear. The broom slipped from my grasp and clattered onto the floor. I bowed my head, whispering desperate, silent prayers, clinging to the hope that somehow, somewhere, the Moon Goddess would hear me.

The cold, hard floor pressed against my palms as I braced myself for what was to come, every instinct screaming that my life, and perhaps Aurora’s too, now hung by a thread.

The pack leader’s footsteps echoed in the quiet room, deliberate and menacing. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and with each passing second, the suffocating realization settled in: there would be no mercy today.