Maria arched an eyebrow, clearly pleased with the power she wielded over me.
“Anything?” Maria mused, tapping her fingers against the table with a deliberate slowness. Her eyes never left mine, studying me like a predator contemplating its prey.
“Anything,” I replied, my voice resolute, even as a shiver ran down my spine. The word hung in the air like a promise I wasn't sure I could keep.
A heavy silence settled between us, thick with anticipation. Finally, Maria leaned forward, a glint of triumph in her eyes.
“I will visit the young princess at the infirmary before quarter midnight,” she said, her voice as smooth as silk yet carrying an edge of malice. “I’ll administer the antidote for the poisoning. Wait for me until then.”
I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, relief washing over me. For a moment, I almost felt a surge of joy, but I quickly tempered it, knowing that nothing came without a cost.
“And what would be the price?”
"The price? It's simple. Nothing much."
"What is it?"
Maria’s expression turned hauntingly vacant..Her eyes seemed to bore into my very soul.
“Your position as Luna,” she said, her voice a chilling whisper that sent a chill down my spine. "Say you’ll relinquish your title and your daughter might live."
My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a momentary stab of panic. The title of Luna wasn’t just a position; it was my duty, my identity, the heart of my connection to the pack.
But this was for Lyra. Her life was more important than any title or honor.
"What do you say?"
"Yes. I will," I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice. "If you save Lyra, I will step down as Luna."
Maria's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
"Very well," she said, rising gracefully from her chair. "We have a deal."
*
The air was thick with tension and the scent of antiseptic as I sat beside Lyra's bed in the infirmary. My heart ached at the sight of her tiny form lying motionless beneath the stark white sheets.
I held her hand gently, tracing the delicate lines of her fingers, silently willing her to wake up and return to me.
"You’ll pull through this, my darling," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. "Momma’s here. I won’t let anything happen to you."
Hours passed, and finally, Maria emerged, a small vial clutched in her hand. She approached with the practiced grace of someone who knew the weight of her own importance.