Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy Chapter 105

ARIA

"Someone grabbed you from behind," Elder Morrison repeated slowly. "And then you were poisoned."

"Yes," Ivory confirmed.

I felt the weight of everyone's stares turning toward me. Felt the implications of what Ivory had just said settling over the room like a suffocating blanket.

She didn't say I stabbed her. She'd said exactly what had happened—someone grabbed her from behind, then she felt pain.

But the implications...

"Ivory," I said, my voice cracking. "Tell them. Tell them about the attacker in the trees. About how I pulled you out of the way."

Ivory turned to look at me, and I saw genuine confusion in her eyes. "I didn't see anyone attacking. I just felt you grab me. And then the pain."

"Because I was pulling you aside," I insisted desperately. "There was someone in the trees. They shot a dart. I grabbed you to get you out of the way, but we both fell and the dart hit you anyway."

"I didn't see anyone else," Ivory repeated, and there was something almost apologetic in her tone. "I just know that you grabbed me from behind. And then I was poisoned."

She wasn't lying. She was telling the exact truth of what she'd experienced. But the way she phrased it, the implications of her words—it made it sound like I'd attacked her. Like I'd been the one to administer the poison.

"This is ridiculous," I said, looking around the room at all the skeptical faces. "Why would I poison her? What possible reason would I have?"

"Jealousy," someone suggested quietly. "You've been compared to her constantly. Maybe you decided to eliminate the competition."

"Or following orders from Sera," another added. "We know Sera wants Ivory dead. Maybe she found a way to manipulate the Luna into doing her dirty work."

"I didn't do this!" My voice was rising now, panic making it shrill. "I saved her. I saw the attack coming and I tried to protect her. Why can't any of you believe that?"

"Because you're the only witness to this supposed attacker," Morrison said grimly. "And the evidence we have—Ivory's testimony, your presence at the scene, your known conflicts with her—it all suggests a different narrative."

I looked at Kael desperately, silently begging him to believe me, to defend me, to do something.

But his expression was troubled, conflicted. Through our bond, I felt his struggle—wanting to believe me, but unable to ignore how damning the evidence looked.

"I need to investigate this fully," he said finally. "Aria, until we can verify what happened, I'm going to have to ask you to remain in our chambers. Under guard."

"You're confining me?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You actually think I did this?"

"I think I need to understand what happened," Kael said, and his voice was strained. "And I can't do that if you're free to move around the pack house, potentially interfering with the investigation."

"Kael, please—"

"This isn't a punishment," he said, but the words rang hollow. "It's a precaution. Until we know for certain what occurred, this is the safest option for everyone."

Safest for everyone. Meaning he thought I might be dangerous. Might have actually tried to kill Ivory.

The man I'd bonded with, the man I was supposed to be building a life with—he believed I might be a murderer.

The betrayal of it was crushing. Worse than anything the pack had whispered about me. Worse than Ivory's hostility or the constant comparisons.

My own mate didn't trust me.

"Fine," I said, my voice empty of emotion. "Confine me. Investigate. Do whatever you need to do. But Kael, when you find out I'm telling the truth, when you discover that I actually saved Ivory's life instead of trying to end it—you remember this moment. You remember that you believed I was capable of murder before you believed in me."

I turned and walked toward the clinic exit, two guards falling into step beside me. Escorts. Jailers.

As I left, I heard Ivory's weak voice behind me: "I didn't say she tried to kill me. I just told you what I remember."

But the damage was done. The implication had been made. And whether Ivory intended it or not, she'd painted me as the most likely culprit.

The walk back to our chambers felt endless. Pack members stared as I passed, whispers following in my wake. By tonight, the entire pack would know that their Luna was under suspicion for attempting to murder their beloved healer.

The guards stationed themselves outside the chambers door after ushering me inside. I heard the lock click—for my safety, they'd probably claim. To keep others out rather than keep me in.

But I knew the truth. I was a prisoner in my own home. Suspected of a crime I hadn't committed. Betrayed by the people I'd been trying so hard to connect with.

I sank onto the bed, staring at nothing, trying to process how completely everything had fallen apart.

I'd saved Ivory's life. I'd seen the attack coming and pulled her out of the way. The dart that had hit her shoulder would have hit her heart or spine if I hadn't moved her.

But no one believed me. They saw what they expected to see—a jealous Luna eliminating her competition. A political operator removing an obstacle.

And the worst part? I couldn't entirely blame them. Because given everything they knew about me, given all the whispers and rumors and unflattering comparisons—wasn't it easier to believe I'd snapped? That I'd decided to solve my insecurity problem through violence?

I'd wanted to be a better Luna. Wanted to earn the pack's respect through dedication and service.

Instead, I'd become their villain. The outsider who'd not only stolen what should have been Ivory's, but had tried to kill her for good measure.

And my mate—my supposedly devoted partner—had believed it. Had looked at the evidence and decided that confining me was necessary.

I wrapped my arms around myself, fighting back tears. Everything I'd been afraid of, every insecurity I'd harbored—it was all coming true in the worst possible way.

I was alone. Suspected. Confined. Betrayed by the one person who was supposed to stand by me no matter what.

And somewhere in the pack house, Ivory lay recovering from an assassination attempt that everyone thought I'd orchestrated.

How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

And more importantly—how was I supposed to prove my innocence when no one wanted to believe me?