Betrayed By One. Bound To Three-Chapter 62: Poisoned?

The council chamber buzzed with restless murmurs. Elders shifted in their seats, some glancing at one another with furrowed brows, others tapping fingers against the polished wood of the long table.

The tension had been building for hours, and their impatience filled the room like smoke. Every eye was alert, every whisper sharp with concern.

Silas entered quietly. The room fell into a charged silence the moment he stepped inside. It was a silence that carried the weight of authority, the kind that made hesitation impossible.

He let it stretch for a heartbeat before speaking. His voice was calm, measured, each word deliberate, enough to stop every speculation before it could form.

"I see there is already much concern in this chamber," he said, glancing over the gathered elders. "And rightly so. But before questions escalate, allow me to provide clarity."

A silver-haired elder leaned forward, her impatience and worry visible in the lines around her eyes. "Alpha Silas, we have been waiting. Princess Selena—her health—what has happened? She was fine when she first arrived with the triplets. You know that!"

Silas’s dark eyes swept the room, unyielding. "She was not fine," he said evenly. "The healer reported that the princess has been poisoned. And this is not the first case." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Even Loretta has been affected. Her case is less severe, which is why she has remained in her room under careful watch."

The chamber went still. The revelation pressed against every elder. Some exchanged worried glances. A few tightened their hands into fists, muttering lowly under their breath.

"Poisoned?" one elder demanded, voice rising. "By whom?"

Silas inclined his head slightly. His expression remained steady, unshaken. "I suspect the rogue brothers. They orchestrated these events to gain Selena’s trust. Outwardly, they posed as her protectors, rescuing her when in truth, they were scheming to harm her, to seize control of the pack through deceit and manipulation."

Murmurs turned into gasps as the possibility of deliberate harm settled over the chamber like a shadow.

One elder slammed a hand against the table, the sound sharp and echoing. "Impossible!" he barked. "We never trusted those rogues. And yet the princess insisted we allow them close. This is exactly why I warned against it!"

"Selena’s own decisions have made this necessary," Silas continued, his tone calm, precise, cutting through their outrage. "She placed herself in danger by allowing them proximity. But I acted swiftly, decisively, ensuring her safety while uncovering the threat they posed."

Some elders swallowed hard, exchanging brief glances that spoke of unspoken fears. They had served the pack for decades, and yet the balance of power felt fragile in that moment.

Another elder, a man with lined features and piercing eyes, spoke slowly, almost reverently. "So you are saying they feigned protection to gain influence over her? That they orchestrated this all along?"

Silas held their gaze. "Exactly. They have played a dangerous game, appearing loyal while hiding ill intent. The consequences could have been fatal."

A collective shiver ran around the table. Some elders clasped their hands tightly, a few leaned forward, nodding grimly. The reality of the threat had settled into every corner of the room.

"And yet," Silas said, letting his tone soften fractionally, "Princess Selena has realized her errors. She has acknowledged the threat and agreed to correct her course, hence her decision to unite with me in marriage, one week from today."

A stunned silence blanketed the chamber for a moment. Then murmurs of approval began, soft at first, growing in confidence. Heads nodded. Hands pressed together in acknowledgment. A silver-haired elder whispered, "She has been brought to reason. It seems you have guided her wisely, Silas."

Another, older man with eyes sharp as daggers, spoke aloud. "From the start, we doubted the rogues’ loyalty. We warned her, and yet she ignored us. This... your guidance has saved her, and perhaps the pack itself."

Silas allowed their words to settle, letting admiration and grudging respect anchor themselves in the room.

A single, almost imperceptible smirk played at the corner of his mouth as he noted each reaction, storing every flicker of relief, suspicion, and awe for future use.

He did not need to shout, nor did he need to command. Their reactions cemented his authority naturally.

"I am grateful for your trust," he said finally, sweeping his gaze over the elders. "Selena’s safety and the stability of the pack are paramount. The threat is contained. The rogues are under watch. And the princess, now aware of the danger, has made a wise and decisive choice to protect herself and the pack."

A low hum of agreement ran through the chamber. Murmurs of loyalty, soft pledges, and nods of devotion circled the room. Silas let them speak, their words reinforcing the narrative he had carefully constructed.

As the elders filed out, their voices hushed but respectful, each word of allegiance reinforced the power he had amassed. He remained at the head of the table, alone in the quiet that followed. The chamber, heavy with incense and polished wood, seemed to breathe with him. The future of the pack rested firmly in his hands.

He allowed himself a slow, deliberate exhale, a small shadow of a smile crossing his lips. He let his gaze drift over the polished wood, the faint flicker of torchlight, the quiet that now filled the chamber. Every gesture, every glance, every word from the elders had been accounted for.

The pack was aligned under his guidance. The princess was under control, aware of her errors. The rogue brothers, carefully contained, posed no threat to the order he had secured. Every piece moved exactly as he intended.

He considered the web he had woven. The alliances, the threats, the manipulations—all perfectly in place. Every move forward would be deliberate. Every obstacle removed before it could interfere.

In that quiet, he savored the unspoken victory. The pack, the princess, even his enemies—they would all fall into the pattern he had set. Every step, every word, every decision had been calculated and precise.

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his dark eyes. With the elders exactly where he wanted and the wedding days away, who could possibly stop him?