After My Mate Poisoned My Wolf for Three Years

Kade brought me dinner at seven.

No warning. No announcement. He just appeared in the council room doorway with a tray balanced in one hand. The scent hit me first—roasted chicken, herbs I recognized from the pack house kitchen, bread still warm enough to release steam into the air.

I looked up from the tribunal packet I'd been annotating. My pen stopped mid-sentence.

He crossed the room and set the tray on the table in front of me. Not beside the documents. Directly in front of me, where I couldn't ignore it.

"You haven't eaten since breakfast," he said.

I stared at the plate. The chicken was cut into pieces. The vegetables were arranged neatly. There was a glass of water, condensation already forming on the outside.

"I'm not hungry," I said.

Kade pulled out the chair across from me and sat. He didn't argue. He just waited.

I looked at the food again. My stomach turned over—not from nausea, but from something else. Something older and harder to name.

I picked up the fork.

The first bite tasted normal. Chicken and rosemary. No bitterness underneath. No metallic aftertaste. Just food.

I took another bite. Then another.

Kade watched me eat without saying anything. His face stayed neutral, but I caught the way his shoulders relaxed slightly when I finished half the plate.

I understood what he'd done.

He'd made this himself. No pack staff. No one else's hands on the ingredients. He was showing me that food could be safe. That someone could feed me without poisoning me.

I didn't thank him.

I just kept eating until the plate was empty.

When I set the fork down, Kade leaned back in his chair. "You added Aviana's name to the summons."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I said.

He nodded, like he'd expected it. "The notebook will carry weight with the tribunal. Her handwriting. Her records. It's damning."

"Good," I said.

Silence settled between us. Not uncomfortable. Just present.

I pressed two fingers to the mark on my neck. The cold had become familiar. Almost grounding.

"Did you know?" I asked. "About the affair."

Kade's expression didn't change. "I suspected something was wrong long before I could prove it."

"How long?"

"Four years."

I looked at him. Really looked. His face gave nothing away, but something in his eyes shifted. Not guilt. Something heavier.

"You didn't say anything," I said.

"No."

"Why not?"

He met my gaze without flinching. "Because you were already marked. And I had no proof. Just suspicion. And a feeling I couldn't act on."

The pressure in my chest—the thing that had been building since the wolfsbane burned—pressed harder. I didn't look away.

"What kind of feeling?"

Kade's jaw tightened. He didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was quieter. "The kind that would have made everything worse if I'd acted on it."

I wanted to push. I didn't.

I just nodded and went back to the tribunal documents.

Kade stood and picked up the tray. He walked to the door, then paused. "The Council acknowledged the summons this afternoon. The tribunal date is set for two weeks out."

I looked up. "I know. Marcus told me."

Kade nodded and left.

I sat alone in the council room and stared at the empty plate he'd left behind.

My stomach felt full for the first time in weeks.

---

The envoy arrived the next morning.

He was a Delta from Ronan Vale's pack—broad-shouldered, carefully neutral expression, the kind of wolf who'd been trained to deliver messages without revealing what he thought of them.

I met him in the main hall. Marcus stood to my left. Two other Silverfang wolves flanked the doorway. Witnesses.

The envoy bowed slightly. "Luna Tiana. Alpha Ronan sends his regards."

"Does he," I said.

The envoy straightened. "Alpha Ronan is aware of the pending Rite of Passing. He understands this is a difficult time for Silverfang. He wishes to offer his protection for the pack's remnants, should you choose to drop the dissolution claim. He assures you that your position would be secured under his authority."

I let the words hang in the air for a moment.

Then I smiled.

It wasn't a kind smile.

"Tell Alpha Ronan," I said, "that his offer violates Lycan Council jurisdiction while the Rite is pending. Specifically, the territorial clause outlined in section twelve of the Luna Accord. I'm sure he's familiar with it."

The envoy's expression flickered. Just for a second.

I pulled a folded document from my pocket and handed it to him. "That's a copy of the clause. In case he needs a reminder."

The envoy took it without a word.

"You're dismissed," I said.

He left.

Marcus exhaled slowly. "That was direct."

"It needed to be," I said.

I turned and walked back toward the council room. Kade was standing in the doorway. He'd been there the whole time.

He didn't say anything.

He just stepped aside to let me pass.

That evening, Buster moved from Kade's boots to my feet, then back again. He kept shifting, like he couldn't decide whose guard post was more urgent.

I watched him pace and felt something tighten in my chest.

Kade noticed too. He didn't comment.

He just let Buster settle wherever the wolf-dog chose.

---

The Council representatives arrived two days later.

Three of them. Senior tribunal officers sent to review the evidence packet before the formal Rite. They spread the documents across the council table and began their assessment.

Kade walked them through the sequencing. Wolfsbane records first. Phone messages second. Aviana's notebook third. The staged rogue pelts as physical evidence at the end.

I listened for ten minutes. Then I interrupted.

"The sequencing is wrong," I said.

All three representatives looked up. Kade went still.

I stepped forward. "The notebook should come first. It establishes intent and premeditation. The wolfsbane records support it. The phone messages confirm the conspiracy. The pelts are the final proof. You're building backwards."

One of the representatives frowned. "Prince Kade's sequencing follows standard tribunal protocol—"

"Standard protocol assumes the accused denies intent," I said. "Derek and Aviana won't deny it. They'll claim justification. The notebook removes that option before they can use it."

Silence.

The representatives looked at Kade.

He met my eyes. His expression didn't change.

Then he turned to the representatives. "Her sequencing is more effective. I recommend you adopt it."

He didn't look at me when he said it.

The representatives adjusted their notes.

I felt something shift in my chest. Not warmth. Not yet.

But the beginning of the absence of cold.

Kade went back to the documents like nothing had happened.

I pressed two fingers to the mark on my neck and breathed.

For the first time in three years, the hollowness didn't feel quite so deep.