Dorian Frostclaw appeared beside her, his expression heavy with grief. He said he had only tried to counsel me against hurting Selene's feelings, but I had mistaken his concern for a threat to expose my infidelity—and so I had lashed out in revenge.
Every wolf across the territories howled for Selene to sever our bond immediately, to cast out this low-born climber who had clawed his way into the Valeheart Pack through mating alone.
But she put on a mask of devotion.
"No matter what sins Kael commits in this lifetime, I cannot stop loving him."
Watching her false performance, I couldn't hold back. I retched.
Selene heard from outside the den chamber and rushed in.
"What's wrong?"
I frowned, seeing Dorian trailing behind her like a shadow. I shook off her reaching hand.
"Nothing. Just found you revolting, that's all. To protect your rut-partner's crimes, you'd destroy your own mate's reputation without hesitation. Selene Valeheart, your love is truly magnificent."
Her face went pale as bone. Her mouth opened to explain.
But Dorian suddenly dropped to his knees.
"Forgive me, brother. This is all my fault! Sister-mate only used you as a shield because of me. But she's still recovering from the birth—she was afraid you'd be angry and came to explain despite her weakened state. Please don't blame her."
Selene's eyes filled with tender concern for him. She turned an accusing glare on me.
"I came specifically to tell you about this. Those recordings were scent-glamour forgeries I created. When it comes down to it, he shares your blood—sacrificing yourself to help him is only right. I'm helping him because I'm helping you maintain your bloodline ties. Why must you be so aggressive toward him?"
"Besides, you're a scent-suppressed outcast now. Reputation means nothing to you. What outsiders say won't change my feelings—I know it's fake, and that's enough. But he's different. He has no pack, no family to fall back on. He survives by his standing in the chronicle circles. If his image is destroyed, everything falls apart."
Listening to her grand justifications, I felt nothing but disgust.
A scent-suppressed outcast—and whose doing was that?
Back then, she hadn't just forced the pack council to revoke my position. She had spread word through every chronicle keeper's den across the territories: anyone who employed me would be making an enemy of her.