Chapter 80

Chapter 80: Chapter 80

Sophia hadn’t slept in two days.

She’d tried—lying rigid in the center of her bed while Kael’s side stayed cold and empty—but every time her eyes closed, she saw the cloaked man’s face, heard his voice, low and patient, counting down days like a man with nothing but time.

Three days, he’d said. Or I expose it all.

Two days left now. She had the number memorized the way she might once have memorized a love letter. Five million silvers, delivered to the old mill outside the eastern border. She didn’t have five hundred, let alone five million.

She stood up once again, pacing across her room, her mind racing.

She had already searched through every account she could access. Whatever money she had left was nowhere near enough. She couldn’t borrow from anyone without raising questions, and she couldn’t risk asking the wrong person.

She paused, running her hands through her hair. There was just one thing left to do.

Sophia sat at her vanity with her reflection staring back—hollow-eyed, her hands trembling as she penned a message, crumpled it, and started again.

Kael. I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.

She sent it with one of the pack runners and spent the next hour pacing her chambers, counting her own footsteps to keep from counting the hours instead.

The reply came back disappointingly short.

The investors aren’t satisfied yet. I’ll be occupied with the trading guild for several more days. Whatever it is, it will have to wait.

Sophia crushed the parchment in her fist, a bitter laugh escaping her. Of course. Of course he was too busy playing savior to his precious guild to notice his own wife drowning.

She couldn’t wait several more days, not when she needed the money now.

She needed another way. No. There had to be another way.

Callum.

The thought came almost immediately.

He had access to the pack’s finances. He handled most of the day-to-day affairs while Kael was away. If anyone could get her the money without asking too many questions, it would be him.

Sophia grabbed her cloak and left her chambers. She found Callum in the administrative wing, surrounded by ledgers and reports.

Callum looked up as she entered, his quill pausing mid-stroke, his brows raised. "Luna Sophia. I wasn’t expecting you here."

"I need to speak with you." She shut the door behind her, lowering her voice as though the walls themselves might be listening. "Privately."

He set the quill down, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "Go on."

Sophia remained standing, her fingers twisting into the fabric of her cloak. "I need access to the pack treasury."

Callum paused, his brows raised as though he hadn’t heard her clearly. "Pack treasury, you say?"

Sophia frowned. "What? You suddenly have ear problems? I need access to the pack’s treasury."

Callum leaned back against the chair. "And if I may ask, what for?"

"What for?" Sophia nearly yelled but managed to calm down. "I need five million silvers, and as Luna of Silver Creek, I can’t just take whatever I want."

Callum stared at her for a moment. "You need five million silvers, and you expect me to simply hand it over because you’re Luna?"

Sophia’s jaw tightened. "I expect you to help me get it."

Callum leaned back in his chair, studying her carefully. "The treasury doesn’t have that kind of money sitting around for anyone to withdraw whenever they please."

"I know that."

"Do you?" He asked, and her eyes narrowed.

Callum continued. "The pack’s finances are already under scrutiny. After the trading guild lost several contracts and investors started pulling out, every major withdrawal is being reviewed. Five million silvers would raise questions immediately."

"Then find a way around it." Her voice frayed at the edges, desperation bleeding through despite her effort to keep it contained. "You manage the finances. Surely there’s some account, some reserve—"

"There isn’t." He said it gently, but firmly, watching the way her hands trembled where they clutched the cloak. "Sophia. What do you need this kind of money for?"

"That’s not your concern." She snapped at him.

"It becomes my concern the moment you ask me to pull it from a treasury I’m responsible for." He leaned forward slightly. "If something is wrong—"

"Nothing is wrong." The lie came too fast, too sharp, and she saw it land wrong on his face. "I just need the money, Callum. Can you help me or not?"

Callum studied her for a long moment, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them. "If I thought you were in danger, I’d find a way. I’d move heaven and the pack’s treasury both if I had to. But I won’t pull five million silvers out of a ledger I can’t explain to the very investors keeping this pack alive—not without knowing why."

"Then don’t." Her voice cracked. "Forget I asked."

"Sophia—"

"Why do you care anyway? Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you really are. Have you?"

At this, Callum stayed back. "I don’t care." He stated. "What I do care about is you coming here asking for that insurmountable amount knowing the pack is bled dry." He paused for a second.

"If you won’t tell me, at least tell Kael. Whatever this is, you shouldn’t be carrying it alone."

Sophia scoffed. "Don’t act like you care, Callum. It doesn’t suit you." She didn’t wait for his response. She pulled the door open and left him standing there, his brow furrowed, the ledgers forgotten on the desk behind him.

Outside, the corridor was empty. Sophia pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow, willing the panic to loosen its grip even for a moment.

It didn’t.

Two days. She had two days, and no money, and no one willing to give her either without asking questions she couldn’t answer.

She thought of the man’s voice, patient and cold. Or I tell him everything.

Her feet carried her toward the healing ward before she’d fully decided to go there, some desperate, half-formed idea taking shape.

The ward was quiet at this hour, lit only by a few low lamps, the air thick with the familiar scent of dried herbs. A single attendant dozed near the far wall.

Sophia slipped inside, her pulse hammering loud enough she was certain it would wake him. She knew every corner of this place. After all, she’d been forced to spend hours upon hours in here.

Perhaps she should be grateful for the forced labor she did. Now, it was going to help her.

She moved between the shelves and into the private room where vials and potions were kept. Of course she had not been able to replicate the healing blood vial, but it didn’t matter.

She stopped in front of a small wooden box and opened it, taking out a tiny bottle. It had no label, just like the rest in the box.

One drop and a person would go unconscious. Sophia folded the vial under her clothes and carefully snuck out of the ward.

Unbeknownst to her, the head healer was also in the ward and had just caught her sneaking out. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

Sophia was practically the owner of the ward. She could come and go at any time. So why would she choose to sneak in?

She traced her footsteps to the private room where Sophia had left the door open a tiny bit. After confirming she’d truly been in there, she walked in.

Frowning, she crossed to the shelf out of old habit, running her fingers along the vials to count them—the way she did every evening before closing the ward—only to pause when she opened the same wooden box to see one of the vials missing.

She was certain it had been there hours before, but now it was gone, after Sophia’s sneak in.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. What could Sophia possibly want the vial for?