Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy (ARIA) novel Chapter 300

Chapter 300

Chapter 300

ARIA

I woke the next morning half-expecting to find a threatening letter slipped under my door. Or graffiti on the chambers’ entrance. Or some other dramatic demonstration that the pack had heard my speech and decided I’d crossed a line that required punishment beyond just gossip and avoidance.

Instead, there was nothing. No letter. No message. No obvious retaliation for calling them out on their hypocrisy in front of hundreds of witnesses.

I counted that as a win, even though a small, insidious part of my mind whispered that maybe they just didn’t think I was worth the effort of a threatening note anymore. Maybe they’d decided I was so irrelevant, so clearly on my way out, that wasting paper on intimidation would be pointless. They’d rather save their energy and resources for supporting Ivory, for making sure she knew she was valued and wanted and deserving of everything I currently held.

I shoved that thought down hard. I’d promised myself I was done letting my insecurities lead me around like a leash. Done accepting their low expectations as truth rather than judgment. I had work to do—actual, tangible Luna work-and sitting in my chambers wallowing in self- doubt wasn’t going to accomplish anything.

Besides, regardless of what happened with Nina’s investigation, regardless of whether the pack ever accepted me, I was still Luna. Still held the position with all its responsibilities. And my only actual restrictions were not leaving pack territory and not going anywhere without a guard. I wasn’t restricted from doing my Luna duties. Wasn’t forbidden from actually trying to be good at this job instead of just surviving it.

So I was going to throw myself back into it. Was going to demonstrate through sustained action that I took the position seriously even when everyone else thought I should resign.

The Ghost Hunt was supposed to have a celebratory party for the winning teams-tradition, apparently, after every Hunt. Something elaborate and formal where the survivors were honored and the fragments were displayed and everyone celebrated the pack’s strength and capability. But it seemed like they were all collectively waiting for Ivory to recover before scheduling it. Couldn’t celebrate without their favorite healer, the woman who’d actually earned her place among the winners rather than just stumbling through on someone else’s capabilities.

I tried not to be bitter about that. Tried to focus on the work instead.

1/3

I started with inspections I’d been neglecting before the Hunt. Projects I’d initiated when I’d first arrived in Shadowmere, back when I’d been desperately trying to prove I could contribute something useful. Community improvements, efficiency upgrades, small things that wouldn’t transform the pack but might make daily life slightly better for people who actually did the real work around here.

The textile workshop was first on my list. They produced clothing and supplies for the pack, managed inventory, coordinated with other territories for trade. I’d suggested some organizational changes months ago-nothing revolutionary, just better systems for tracking materials and preventing waste. The manager, Amber, had seemed receptive at the time. Had agreed to implement the suggestions and keep records of how things were going.

I arrived with my assigned guard trailing behind me, trying to project confidence I didn’t entirely feel. The workshop was bustling with morning activity-workers at their stations, materials being moved, the normal rhythm of productivity that kept the pack functioning.

Conversations died down when I entered. Not suddenly-that would have been too obvious. Just a gradual quieting as people noticed my presence and decided that whatever they’d been discussing wasn’t appropriate for the Luna’s ears.

I’d gotten used to that over the past few months. The way rooms changed when I walked into them. The way I could clear a space just by existing in it.

“Luna Aria,” Amber said, standing from her desk. Her tone was professionally polite in ways that suggested she was being careful rather than genuine. “We weren’t expecting an inspection today.”

“I should have sent advance notice,” I acknowledged. “But I wanted to see how the organizational changes were working out. Check the records. Make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

I heard whispers from across the workshop-workers murmuring to each other, too quiet for me to make out words but loud enough that I knew they were discussing me. Discussing my speech, probably. Whether I’d had any right to call out the pack’s hypocrisy. Whether I’d made things better or worse for myself.

When I glanced in their direction, they immediately fell silent and focused intensely on their work. Like children caught misbehaving, except these were adults who just couldn’t be bothered to hide their disdain for me with any subtlety.

“The reports are available if you’d like to review them,” Amber said, though her body language suggested she really hoped I wouldn’t. “But I assure you, everything is in order. Your attention to these details isn’t necessary.”

The phrasing stung more than it should have. *Your attention isn’t necessary.* Like my

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify