My bestie vanished the moment we landed in this godforsaken werewolf kingdom. I searched for years. No trace of her. Seven years later, I had become Luna Queen Artoria. Brutal. Feared. The kind of name mothers whispered to make their pups behave. Until a kid pounded on the locked palace gates, screaming that he was my pup. Ridiculous. I had never been pregnant. How the hell could he be mine? Just when I was ready to scold him, the kid lifted his little face and looked at me. That face — the mini version of my bestie. The words died in my throat. The kid tugged at my cloak, whispering cautiously: “My mother is Meryl. She said you’d believe me when you saw my face. She always says you share the same family origin from far, far away.” My eyes swelled with tears. I gritted my teeth. “Meryl, you good girl… How dare you hide when you knew exactly where I am?” “She’s dying… too sick to come herself.” No. That was impossible. Before we came here, Meryl had just won Gatorade State Player of the Year. She was way too healthy to die. “How the hell could it be…” “Father listened to his mistress. He didn’t call the Leech Priest for her. She’s just… lying there. She told me to find you. And… from now on… you’re my mom.” Fire ignited inside me. Back in our world, the law would have crushed that man. But here? I was the law. I was the Luna Queen who had fought her way through the bloody game of the throne. “Kid… let’s go bring Meryl back.” This time, it was the Queen’s kill to avenge.

The Silvermane Velvet tributed from Serravia was laid before me — moon-white or silver-blue. Too plain. Not my style. “Wait. Put them in the old place,” I said, walking into the side chamber. “Yes, Your Highness.” Meryl. You always loved these quiet colors. My hand brushed over the velvet, then drifted to the Sucre d’Orge, the diamond jewels, the piles of gold. I had gathered everything for her. A flashback: Meryl in modern clothes, ponytail bouncing. “I’ll be a super athlete and you’ll be a super scholar! When one of us gets filthy rich, she’ll buy Fifth Avenue for the other!” But seven years ago, everything had changed. Meryl and I fell into this werewolf world. She vanished. I landed in the royal palace — a stranger who crossed the Crown Prince. “Forty lashes!” Then Gwyn appeared. Moon-white robes, gentle eyes. He bent down and pulled me to my feet. “I’ll protect you.” Later, he knelt before the Alpha King. “Father, I wish to marry Artoria.” Those years were hard. The Crown Prince schemed against us. Gwyn was forced into the succession game for the Alpha’s throne. I had no family background here, but I had twenty-first-century knowledge. I learned to read people, to win powerful ladies and their mates to my side. We worked as one. He rose to become the Alpha King. And I became Luna Queen Artoria. Brutal. Feared. But through all of it — the battles, the blood, the throne — I never stopped searching for Meryl. Now I had gathered everything for her. But I still couldn’t find her trace. “Luna Queen, this child refuses to leave the palace gates. He claims to be your pup. How shall we punish him?” Ridiculous. I had never had a child. First, I was too busy helping Gwyn win the throne. And after that… we tried, but never succeeded. I pushed the thought aside and turned to the boy. “Who put you up to this? Lying at such a young age?” The boy’s face flushed red. “I’m not lying! I’m not lying!” He lifted his face and looked straight at me. I froze. That face — it was Meryl’s. “My mother is Meryl. She told me to find you.” My heart pounded. So this was Meryl’s child. I touched his soft cheek. “Where is she? Why did she send you instead of coming herself?” His lips trembled. His eyes turned red. “Mom is home in Serravia. Father listened to his mistress. He didn’t call the Leech Priest for her. She’s just… lying there. She told me to find you. And… from now on… you’re my mom.” “Pack my things. Prepare the carriage. We set off for Meryl now.” “His Majesty King Gwyn arrives!” “Artie, what are these about?” “Meryl is in the Serravia pack. I need to go bring her back.” Gwyn knew well where I came from, and he knew exactly what Meryl meant to me. After a frozen moment, he started stuffing coins and food into my packages. “Take coins — for emergencies. And your favorite marzipan. Take care of yourself. Write to me.” He followed me all the way to the palace gate. I took Corin’s hand and stepped over the threshold. Behind me, his voice cut through the cold: “Artie! My queen — be safe. And don’t keep me alone for long.” I waved. “I will.” I lifted Corin into the carriage. The horses charged forward, out of the palace gates. My gaze turned from warm to ice-cold. Meryl, I am coming for you. And those who hurt you… this time, it’s my kill.

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I spent three days and three nights saving a dying alpha named Ryder. I cast a life-binding spell that tied our souls together — the price? My voice. Gone. The deal was simple: if he chose me as his mate, the curse would break. If he didn’t, it would drain me dry. Then came his birthday banquet. He laughed in front of everyone and said: “A pathetic mute? Worthy of an alpha? Please.” I raised my glass and signed a toast with my hands. Nobody saw me shatter inside. “Are you sure about this? Accepting a mate-bond with the Northern Alpha?” I lit the flame on the Moon Goddess altar. My wolf was howling at me, furious. She was getting weaker. So was I. The life-binding spell — it was feeding on me. That was the price of saving Ryder. Everyone assumed he’d choose me. But two weeks ago, I saw them in the garden. Ryder and Freya. His hands on her face. Their lips together. “You’re the only one worthy of me.” “What about the mute girl?” “Her? Don’t even put her in the same sentence as you.” I pressed my hand over my mouth. The pain hit me like a blade to the chest. My wolf screamed. The life-binding spell tightened around my throat like a rope — and I couldn’t breathe. The mute girl. That’s what they called me. He had no idea I lost my voice for him. “If you leave, he’ll be devastated,” my wolf said. “He’ll find out eventually.” The later, the better. I just wanted out of here. Alive or dead — I didn’t care anymore.

I gathered everything Ryder ever gave me. Jewels. All of it. I was going to give it back. A gemstone ring. Silver earrings. A pearl necklace. Every single piece engraved in the same elegant cursive — Ryder & Evelyn. His name. And mine. He’d given them to me when we first returned to the pack together. “This is too much. I can’t accept this.” I signed frantically. “You deserve the best.” He clasped the pearl necklace around my neck before I could stop him. In the mirror, he looked so stunning. So gentle. My heart wouldn’t slow down. Back then, I thought it meant something. I thought it meant — I choose you. But now he’d thrown me away. His words echoing — that lowly mute. He’d chosen Freya. And soon, the spell I cast to save him would finish off what was left of me. Dead girls don’t need jewelry. I carried the jewelry box down the hallway. Whispers trailed behind me. “Why didn’t the Alpha pick her? She’s way prettier than Freya.” “Doesn’t matter how pretty you are if you can’t even speak.” Then — an arrow. It grazed my ear and sliced across my cheek. Blood ran down my face instantly. Another inch and I’d have been dead. The jewelry box hit the ground. The pearl necklace snapped apart. Pearls scattered everywhere — like tears rolling across stone. I dropped to my knees, ignoring the gash on my face, and started collecting them one by one. That’s when I saw it. The arrow. Engraved on the shaft, in that same elegant cursive — Ryder & Freya. Identical to my jewelry. Just with a different name where mine used to be. My chest caved in. I had to press my hand to the floor just to keep from collapsing. Then someone stepped on my fingers. “Oh — sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Freya crouched down, bow still in hand. Her red heels were still on my fingers. My wolf went feral. I opened my mouth — the pain nearly split me in two — but not a single sound came out. Blood soaked through my hand. “Oops. Didn’t see you down there.” She stepped back. Finally. “Why didn’t you say something?” A beat. Then — “Oh right. I forgot. You can’t.” She picked up one of the pearls, turning it over with a look of pure disgust. “This necklace is ugly. The pearls are so small. So dull.” She smiled. “Just like you.” She grabbed my hand and pulled it up — right where she’d crushed it. The wound split back open. Blood dripped onto the ground. “I heard you saved Ryder’s life. Is that true?” She slid a diamond bracelet off her wrist. “Here. Consider this your compensation.” “Once I’m the Alpha’s mate, you can be my handmaiden. I don’t mind being friends with you.” She moved to clasp it on me. I shoved her away. I didn’t want her compensation. I didn’t want her friendship. We struggled — and my blood smeared across her dress. Freya laughed. Then she let go. The bracelet slipped from her fingers — and fell over the cliff’s edge. “Evelyn! What did you do?!” “Ryder gave me that as an engagement gift! Even if you didn’t want it, how could you just—” Liar. I turned to walk away. “Stop.” Ryder was standing right behind me. Looking down at me like I was something he’d scraped off his shoe. “Where do you think you’re going?” “What did you do to Freya? Why is there blood all over her?”

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Three years ago, my legs were broken by the black bear. Now, my beast-husband brought back a female from the border. Once again, unable to express my anger, I resorted to whipping our son with an iron whip to inflict pain on my husband. Suddenly, a golden light flashed in my mind. It was the Mother Goddess. “Foolish guy, how dare you treat your own cubs like this?” “Your punishment is imminent. You are unworthy of your beast-husband husband’s love. The true mate for this male is about to arrive.” “Your destiny is already arranged. Your cubs will see you as a stranger. Your lovers and family will abandon you. You will be banished from this bountiful land. The frozen wilderness will be the only place to shelter your broken body.” My hand trembled. I looked instinctively toward the sire and cub standing before me — both wore the same expression, cold and flat as hammered iron. When they saw me lower the whip, both sets of brows furrowed in unison. They were waiting for the screaming to continue. I pulled my neck in and forced a dry laugh. “Dravik,” I said, “you want to take a second female — I accept.” Silence swallowed the room whole. Dravik, son of the Stoneclaw line, raised his head and looked at me. There was a flicker of something in his eyes. The realization struck me at once. A male like him would never allow a female he cared for to enter as a lower-ranked claim. That would be beneath her in his eyes. So I waved a generous hand. “You want to bring her in as an equal claim? That’s fine too. I don’t care either way.” Dravik’s brow furrowed deeper. He was still kneeling, though his spine never curved — straight as a siege post, wearing the particular expression he reserved only for me: barely-concealed impatience. “Mira.” He used my name like a blade. “What game are you playing now?” “Is this another scheme to get the Pack-Lord to strip my power?” I opened my mouth. Before I could speak, my cub — Dravik’s and mine — cut in with his usual flat, measured voice. Sorren was eight years old, and he had not looked at the welt-marks rising on his arms from my whip. He might as well have been discussing the weather. “Dam,” Sorren said, “are you finished striking me?” “If you are, I’ll take my leave. My studies are waiting.” The golden light flashed again. The Mother Goddess spoke. “You see it, don’t you? Your cub cannot bear to remain in the same room as you.” “Three years of your rages have burned away every last thread of his love for you.” “Do not imagine you can use my chosen female’s arrival to run weeping to the Pack-Lord and punish your beast-husband. That road is already closed. Your blood-brother’s patience for you ran dry long before your legs did.” I pressed my lips together. My blood-brother was tired of me. I knew that. Since the black bear ruined my legs three years ago, my moods had grown worse with each passing season. I hated that I could not manage my own body without a den-servant’s help. I hated watching other females circle close to Dravik. I hated that swinging a whip at my own cub required every last ounce of strength left in me. So I had become a creature of rage — because I needed their eyes on me. I needed to exist in their world. But I had forgotten: no one can hold an endless tide of cruelty. Not even blood. My blood-brother couldn’t do it. How much less, then, could Dravik and Sorren? I looked at the cub before me — eight years old, back held ramrod-straight, the marks from my whip vivid against his tender skin, face utterly empty. I pushed my roll-seat forward. I wanted to help him up. I hadn’t even touched him when Sorren knee-walked backward, cold and efficient, opening a gulf between us. His palms pressed flat against the stone floor, knuckles going pale. Then he rose, turned, and walked away without meeting my gaze. “It seems Dam has no further business. I’ll attend to my lessons.” As he passed through the doorway, I caught a flash of rose-pink cloth at the corner. The golden light came again. “Why do you still linger here? She is waiting for him outside — she who saved what you could not protect.” “On the road back from the borderlands, he chose to stay at her side. He held her through the cold of the night.” “She has earned what she is given. Remember that.” My heart clenched as though a fist had closed around it. The female in rose-pink at the doorway — that was the one Dravik had brought back from the borderlands. Her name was Thalwen. She had traveled with the hunt-pack as a bone-mender, and by the accounts that reached me, she had pulled Dravik back from the edge of death three separate times. The third time, he had carried her out through a field of bodies with his own arms. After that, it was said, he had eyes for no one else. I drew a long breath. These years, I had been reckless. I had been cruel. I had lost my own blood-brother’s patience. I had lost the use of my own legs. And I had nothing left but the charity of others to keep me alive. The Mother Goddess had shown me my ending: cast out of Warlord’s House, left to rot in the burial grounds. Even with grief eating through my chest, I tilted my chin up and spoke to Dravik. “She’s been waiting outside for a long time. Go to her.” Dravik paused. He looked at me for a long, strange moment — and said nothing at all. He simply stood, turned, and left. The door closed. From the other side, I heard Thalwen’s soft voice: “Warlord, are you unharmed?” And Dravik’s low reply: “I’m fine.” I looked down at my useless legs, at the roll-seat that had become my prison, and I laughed — a quiet, helpless sound. Tears landed on my hands without warning.

Dravik had surely forgotten. Eight years ago, he had ridden through every street and lane of Iron-tribe, calling out to anyone who would listen that he would take no mate but me for as long as he drew breath. He had sent riders across two mountain ranges to bring back the whitest winterbeast pelt from the far border — because I hated the cold. For eight years he had given me something real, something bone-deep. So real that when the black bear threw me, when I woke and the bone-mender told me my legs would never carry me again — I didn’t weep. I screamed. I came apart at every seam. Because I had believed, with everything in me, that Dravik would hold me through all of it without condition. I was wrong. A mate’s love is not bottomless. And love is a fragile thing — anything can wear it away. Time wears it. Rage wears it. Neediness wears it down to nothing. Three years of coming apart had cost me not only Dravik but my cub as well. Sorren no longer came to tell me small stories from his lessons. He no longer pressed against my side and begged for the roasted honey-bark sweets I used to make him. I raised my head. The tears ran faster than I could stop them. In the empty chamber, there was nothing but the sound of my own muffled crying. Mira. You brought this on yourself. You had a full life and you ground it to dust. I strangled the ache in my chest and forced myself not to look backward. When I had steadied myself enough, I pushed my roll-seat toward Sorren’s quarters, meaning to dress his wounds. I heard Thalwen’s voice before I reached the door — soft, careful. “Brave cub, hold still. Almost done.” I stopped. Through the gap in the door I saw her sitting at the edge of his sleeping-pelt, her hands moving gently over the marks on his back. Sorren lay perfectly still, obedient in a way he had never been for me. They looked, in that moment, exactly like a dam and her cub. The golden light descended. “Look well at what gentleness does, Mira. A dam’s hands are made to heal what is broken — not to break what is whole.” “Has your touch ever brought that cub anything but pain?” “She brought him a gift from the battlefield. She tends his wounds without being asked. He has never needed you the way he needed her today.” I gripped the remedy-vial until my palm hurt. Footsteps behind me. Dravik had appeared at my back — I hadn’t heard him — and was studying me with a crease between his brows. “What are you doing here?” He glanced at the remedy-vial in my hand, then at the scene in the room. His tone was mild and flat. “Your legs aren’t steady. Stop wandering.” I swallowed the sting of that and wheeled myself through the door. “I came to treat Sorren’s wounds.” Sorren heard my voice and turned his head slowly. He looked at me, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that was not a smile. “Dam’s hands are too fine for this sort of work.” “Besides.” He turned, showing me his back — a map of crossing welts, red and dark against his skin. “I should thank Dam for gifting me all of these.” I went still. I had struck him countless times over these years. Every time he had made no sound and appeared the next morning as though nothing had occurred. So I had never understood how hard I had been hitting. The golden light came without warning. “Look at those marks, Mira. You made every one of them.” “Ask yourself what kind of dam leaves her cub with wounds like these and calls it discipline.” “Turn your eyes — there, at the head of his sleeping-pelt.” I looked where the Goddess directed — and there, at the head of his sleeping-pelt, sat a small carved black horse, the kind of fine craftsmanship that did not come from any workshop in Iron-tribe. Sorren dressed himself and climbed down, moving to stand before the carving, placing his body between it and me. He looked up. “Does Dam need something else?” His gaze was hollow. Dravik stood beside him wearing an identical expression. The pain in my chest was a needle pushed slowly through. I dropped my eyes and left. Back in my own quarters, I dug through the chest at the bottom of the wardrobe until I found a small wooden carving — a leaping hare, worn smooth from years of handling. My blood-brother had made it for me when I was five. I could still hear his voice, bright and certain, lifting me up over his head. “Ria, your blood-brother will always be here.” I closed my fingers around it. I needed to see him. I sent word to the Pack-Lord’s Den through a den-servant. The den-servant came back after a long while, head bowed. “The Pack-Lord says… the matters of the packs press heavily today. He asks the First-Claimed to come another time.” A pause. “He also says — if Warlord’s House lacks for anything, the First-Claimed need only send word to the den-keepers.” A bitter smile moved across my face. Understood. My blood-brother was tired of me too. He did not want to see me. The day grew dark. I ate a few mouthfuls of the evening meal and set it aside. Dravik didn’t come. In the early seasons after I was hurt, he would spend the first few nights back from any campaign in my quarters. Tonight I waited until the third watch of the night, and he never appeared. The golden light came faintly, like an ember in dying ash. “Stop waiting, Mira. He is not coming to you tonight.” “You have had your years with him. Those years are behind you now. What he gives his time to — that is where his heart has already gone.” I reached over and put out the lamp. I lay in the dark with my eyes open. This is how it is. It’s normal. He loves Thalwen. This is normal.

I was halfway through a dead sleep when thunder cracked overhead, and I flinched awake, curling instinctively into myself. I have been afraid of thunder since I was a cub. When I was small, my blood-brother shielded me. After I mated with Dravik, he was the one I pressed against. But tonight— The door swung open. Dravik came in fast, still wearing the clothes he’d had on all day, his face caught in something that looked like alarm. He saw me folded against the headboard and crossed the room in a few strides, sitting down at the edge of the sleeping-pelt. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” He pulled me against his chest. My face rested over his heartbeat — quick and steady all at once. I breathed him in and wanted to ask him to stay. But before the words formed, he released me. “You’re alright.” A pause. “Thalwen needs me. I should check on her.” The golden light struck hard. “Did you truly believe he came for you?” “He came because he has not yet fully put away the habit of you. That is not the same as love.” “Do not mistake duty for devotion, Mira. You have made that error for three years and it has cost you everything.” “Watch him leave.” The door shut. Thunder rolled on. I sat up slowly and looked at the lightning crawling across the sky beyond the shutters. The Mother Goddess’s words settled into my bones: cast out. Burial grounds. The frozen wilderness, east of the wall. I gripped my sleeping-pelt. Suddenly, intensely, I wanted to do one thing. First light the next morning, I sent for someone from the trail-runners’ guild. Not to carry goods. To carry me. My whole life I had been kept inside walls — first the Pack-Lord’s Den, then Warlord’s House. When my legs worked, there was nowhere to go anyway. Now that they didn’t work, there was even less reason to go — so everyone assumed. But I wanted to see what was past these walls. I wanted to move through the wide world, even if I rolled through it on a roll-seat. Even if I died somewhere out there on an open road — it was still better than rotting in a place where no one wanted me. The trail-runner had barely left when Dravik appeared. He saw the travel-contract on the table and his brow drew together. “What is this for?” I picked it up and tucked it away, face calm. “Nothing important. I wanted to send something back to my birth-pack.” Dravik looked at me once, didn’t press, and walked out. As he always did. I swallowed the bitterness and went on packing my things. That evening I sent word again to my blood-brother. I wanted one more feast-day with him before I left — just one, to say farewell, even if he didn’t know it was farewell. His refusal came back before the candle had burned down a finger’s width. “The Pack-Lord must honor the hunt-packs tomorrow. A birth-feast is held every year — this year, let it go.” From the moment the den-servant began speaking, I had already been talking myself around to acceptance. It’s a waste of resources anyway. If he doesn’t want to, so be it. Then the pack-decree arrived the next morning. The Pack-Lord’s howler read it out in the central yard with a voice that carried through every corner of Warlord’s House: Thalwen the Bone-Mender had shown extraordinary valor in the border campaigns. By the Pack-Lord’s hand she was named as Honored Blood-Sister and granted a feast of celebration on the occasion of her birth-season. I received the pack-decree on my knees, my roll-seat pushed back so I could kneel on the stone. When I raised my head, Thalwen was standing in the doorway in flowing rose-red cloth, her face like a flower turned toward the sun. Dravik stood at her side, his expression — for the first time in three years — soft. The golden light blazed. “You are surprised. You should not be.” “Your blood-brother’s hand wrote that decree freely. He did not hesitate. This is the measure of where you now stand with everyone who once called you theirs.” “No legs to carry you. No blood-brother who will see you. No mate who chooses you. No cub who turns toward you. The hollow shell of a First-Claimed, emptied out by her own doing.” “And she whom I have chosen stands in the light you threw away.” I held the pack-decree so tightly the edges cut into my fingers. So the busy schedule had been a lie. The contempt was the truth. Sorren walked out from inside and bowed to Thalwen with genuine courtesy. “Congratulations, Honored Thalwen.” From first to last, he did not look at me. I wheeled myself back to my quarters and sat in the silence. The den-servants were moving things — not mine. Thalwen’s. She was being received into the Pack-Lord’s Den, and Dravik was going with her to present her. Warlord’s House was empty. Just me. Just the crutch leaning against the corner. Just my own shadow. I looked down at my legs, which felt nothing, and I laughed. Good. Quiet. I pushed slowly back toward my room and held the little carved hare in my palm. My blood-brother had stopped wanting me. My cub had stopped wanting me. My beast-husband had stopped wanting me. That was fine. I still had myself.

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I used to be one of the top deep-sea divers in North America. Eight years ago, Sophia—the adopted daughter my parents treasured more than anything—caused a fellow diver’s death underwater so she could keep all the gold from a sunken ship for herself. After it happened, my husband Ryan forced me to sign a confession and take the blame in order to protect her. I was sentenced to twelve years in prison. Later, I got out early for good behavior. Now, I make a living gutting fish at a seafood market in Seattle. Until one evening, while I was standing there cleaning a tuna with my head down, my parents and my ex-husband came storming toward me like they’d lost their minds. My mother, Laura, dropped to her knees on the blood-slick floor covered in fish scales and melted ice, shaking as she sobbed. “Rosalind! Sophia went diving an hour ago, and she still hasn’t come back up!” “You’re the best diver in the country. Please—you have to save her!” My father Richard’s face was pale as he grabbed my arm with a death grip. “You’re the only one who can save her now!” And Ryan—my ex-husband—actually pulled out our old wedding ring and forced it back onto my finger. His eyes were red as he looked at me, his voice trembling. “Rosalind, if you bring Sophia back, I’ll remarry you.” I said nothing. I just instinctively touched the hearing aid in my right ear. Had they forgotten? Back then, all they could see was Sophia. They called me the real murderer. My father had even slapped me so hard he ruptured my eardrum. Since then, I’ve been permanently deaf in my right ear. The doctor had warned me clearly. With my current condition, if I went deep diving again, the pressure underwater could very likely cause a cerebral hemorrhage. I would die. … “Don’t be so damn ungrateful, Rosalind!” The market manager, Mary, suddenly snapped at me coldly. She’d always loved sucking up to rich people. Now she was practically bowing to Ryan and my parents with a flattering smile plastered across her face. But the second she looked at me, all that remained was contempt. “Mr. Miller and Mr. Carter are important people in Seattle.” “You’re just a fish seller. What are you acting so high and mighty for? If you save her, you’ll get money and your old life back. Why are you still making such a big deal out of this?” The people around us, clueless about the truth, immediately started whispering. “Isn’t that her sister? She’s really just going to let her die?” “Probably thinks the money isn’t enough.” “I heard she used to be a murderer.” Their stares pierced into me like needles. And the cruelest part was this— I was the one whose life had been destroyed. I was the one forced to take the fall for Sophia. Yet even now, everyone still believed I was the villain. I pulled off the ring and shoved it back into Ryan’s hand. Then I pointed to my hearing aid. “It’s not that I won’t save her.” “My ear is permanently damaged.” “If I force myself underwater, I could suffer a brain hemorrhage. I’ll die.” My mother Laura froze for a second. But in the very next moment, she collapsed onto the filthy floor covered in fish scales and dirty water and burst into hysterical sobs. “You spent eight years in prison, and you’re still this selfish?!” “You’d even fake a disability just to avoid responsibility!” “That’s Sophia! She’s your sister!” Father looked at me with utter disappointment. “How did I end up with a daughter like you?” “You’d leave someone to die and still stand here lying through your teeth. You’re vicious beyond belief.” Ryan’s eyes were bloodshot. Panicked, he dug a bank card out of his bag and shoved it into my hands. “Rosalind, I’m begging you…” “There’s five million dollars in that account.” “If you bring Sophia back, I’ll give you anything you want.” “We can even get remarried!” Hot tears splashed onto the back of my hand. But all I felt was unbearable pain. I suffered through eight years in prison, and Ryan never visited me once. And now, after finally seeing me again— it was still for Sophia. Still for the real killer. I swallowed the storm of emotions rising in my chest and pulled a medical report from my pocket. The diagnosis was written there in black and white: 【Severe Eardrum Perforation. Deep-Sea Diving Strictly Prohibited.】 But Ryan didn’t even look at it. He slapped the report out of my hand and completely lost control. “Enough!” “Rosalind, don’t you just want money? Name your price and I’ll pay it!” “Sophia doesn’t have time left! I’m begging you, okay?!” The next second, Mary suddenly rushed over and flipped my entire fish stall onto the ground. Fish and ice crashed everywhere. “Get out, you murderer!” “Don’t pollute our market!” “If you refuse to save her today, then don’t ever come back here again!” The crowd immediately joined in. Some spat at me and threw rotten vegetables. Others pulled out their phones to record. “Get out!” “Murderer!” “People like you don’t deserve to live!” I lowered my eyes to the medical report lying on the ground, smeared with dirt and footprints. And for the first time, everything felt absurd beyond words. For the past eight years, I had already lost everything. All I wanted was to live like a normal person. So why— why were they still refusing to let me go?

The feeling of being attacked from all sides nearly crushed me. I couldn’t stay there another second. I could only shove through the crowd and flee the seafood market in humiliation. All the way home, strangers held up their phones and filmed me. Those looks of disgust, contempt, and hatred cut into me like knives. By the time I made it back to my tiny rental apartment, my back was already drenched in cold sweat. But before I could even catch my breath, my phone suddenly began vibrating nonstop. News notifications flooded the screen one after another. #MurdererSisterRefusesToSaveMissingDiver# #HeiressInCriticalDangerAsBiologicalDaughterColdlyStandsBy# #RyanOffersFiveMillionRewardToFindExWifeDiverAndSaveFiancée# I froze. Then I tapped on one of the livestream links. On the screen, Ryan was standing by the ocean. The sea wind whipped through his hair. That face I had once loved so desperately now looked twisted with anguish. In front of the cameras, my mother Laura was crying so hard she could barely stand. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry everyone… for taking up public resources…” “But I really have no other choice…” “Eight years ago, Rosalind caused a diver’s death over gold and was sentenced to prison. I thought she’d changed after all these years…” “I never expected her to still be this cold-hearted…” “Now Sophia’s life is hanging by a thread. Rosalind could save her, but she’s hiding on purpose and refusing to come out…” Father held Laura upright and bowed deeply toward the camera. “Please help us.” “If anyone can find Rosalind, we’re willing to offer a one-million-dollar reward.” The livestream exploded instantly. Comments flooded the screen at terrifying speed. “Expose her!” “People like this deserve punishment!” “Anyone know where she lives? Let’s drag this bitch out together!” “Trash like her should die!” My hands turned colder and colder around my phone. I had never imagined— they would take things this far. Just then— violent banging suddenly erupted outside my door. BANG! BANG! BANG! Before I could react, the already rotting wooden door was kicked open. My landlord stormed in with a crowd of people behind him. Dozens of phone flashlights instantly lit up my face. “They found her!” “She really was hiding here!” “Damn, she looks harmless, but she’s actually a murderer!” They flooded into my tiny apartment. My table was overturned. Dishes shattered across the floor. Someone deliberately dumped garbage onto my bed. I tried to stop them, but two large men pinned me down immediately. “Stay still!” “Apologize to your parents!” “Say you’re a bitch! Say you betrayed your sister!” Humiliation swallowed me whole like a tidal wave. My hair was yanked back as they forced me onto my knees. Phone cameras were shoved inches from my face. And then— the crowd suddenly parted on its own. My parents walked in. For one ridiculous moment, I actually thought— they were finally willing to believe me. But the next second, Father’s face darkened as he pulled out a thick coil of rope from behind his back. He glared at me through clenched teeth. “Tie her up!” “If she won’t go willingly, then drag her there!” I jerked my head up, almost unable to believe what I was hearing. “Dad?! Do you even hear yourself?!” “I already told you my ear is damaged! I can’t dive! I’ll die!” Then I turned desperately toward my mother. “Mom… doesn’t my life matter too?” “For Sophia, are you really willing to force me to my death?” Laura’s reddened eyes avoided mine, hesitation flashing briefly across her face. But only for a moment. Soon, that hesitation was replaced by cold resolve. “Sophia may not be our biological daughter.” “But she’s a thousand times kinder than you ever were.” “For the past eight years, she stayed by our side and took care of us in your place!” “And what about you?” “You’re a murderer who went to prison!” It felt like my heart was being torn open. So in their eyes, the daughter who sacrificed eight years of her life for Sophia was nothing but a stain. Disposable trash they could throw away at any moment. “I didn’t kill anyone!” I struggled violently and screamed the words out. “There was more to what happened back then!” “Why won’t any of you ever believe me?!” But no one cared. And just as despair was about to swallow me whole— Ryan suddenly walked in from outside. There was a high-voltage stun baton in his hand. Those eyes that once looked at me with tenderness were now terrifyingly cold. “Rosalind, don’t force me.” “For Sophia, there’s nothing I won’t do.” The next second, without a moment of hesitation, he slammed the stun baton hard into my back. Violent electricity tore through my body instantly. My entire body convulsed. And then my vision went completely black.

When I opened my eyes again, I had already been thrown onto the deck of a salvage ship. All around me was the dark, violent ocean. The freezing sea wind lashed endlessly against my face. My entire body still felt numb, and the sting from the electric shock lingered across my back. Ryan stood in front of me. His expensive coat whipped wildly in the wind. He looked down at me, his eyes filled with agitation. “Quit pretending to be unconscious.” “Get in the water and bring Sophia back up.” When I still didn’t respond, he clenched his jaw and softened his tone slightly. “Rosalind, I’ve already hired a lot of divers, but none of them are as capable as you. Even the coast guard can’t compare.” “Just listen to me. If you save her, I’ll remarry you.” “You’ll never have to do that filthy kind of work again.” Filthy. The moment I heard that word, my heart twisted painfully. Half a year ago, when I first got out of prison, I had still foolishly believed things might return to the way they were before. That night, I secretly went back to the family villa. Through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw the house glowing with warm light. My parents, Ryan, and Sophia were gathered around the dining table, laughing as they raised their glasses together. Like a real, happy family. And me— I stood outside in the snow like a homeless stray. A ruined woman who had spent eight years in prison for someone else. A criminal abandoned by the entire world. I didn’t even have the courage to walk through the door. That was the moment I finally understood. From beginning to end, there had never been a place for me in that family. … Slowly, I came back to myself. My eyes landed unintentionally on a photograph in Ryan’s hand. It was a candid shot from a beach volleyball game. In the picture, Sophia stood in the middle of the crowd wearing a fitted diving tank top, smiling brilliantly beneath the sun. But the most glaring thing— was the scar on her right shoulder. My pupils contracted violently. And in an instant, my memories were dragged back ten years. Back then, I was the captain of the diving team. Ryan and Sophia were both on my team. That day, a sudden underwater current hit without warning. The situation turned deadly in seconds. I immediately signaled everyone to retreat. But the accident still happened. In the chaos, I shoved Ryan and Sophia toward safety with everything I had. And then I was swept away by the current myself. Later, I was rescued from a deserted island after being unconscious for three full days. When I finally returned home, Sophia was the first to rush over and throw her arms around me, crying so hard her face was soaked with tears. “Rosalind! You’re finally back!” “This is all my fault…” “If I hadn’t failed to hold onto you, none of this would’ve happened…” “Thank God I managed to save Ryan…” At the time, I hadn’t noticed anything strange. Not until now. Only now did I finally understand. During the three days I was missing, Sophia had stolen my place and become Ryan’s savior. And I— became the person responsible for putting everyone in danger. No wonder Ryan later destroyed my life for her without hesitation. So everything had already gone wrong that long ago. How ridiculous. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my voice hoarse. “I already told you…” “I can’t dive anymore!” “My ear can’t handle deep-sea pressure!” “I’ll die from a brain hemorrhage!” Ryan’s expression visibly shifted. For a brief second, hesitation flickered across his eyes. But the very next moment, Father suddenly stormed over and kicked me hard in the chest. “Enough!” “How long are you going to keep pretending?!” “Rosalind, you’re rotten to the core! You’re nothing but trash!” “You’d even fake a disability just to avoid responsibility!” The force of the kick sent me crashing onto the deck. Pain exploded through my chest so violently I could barely breathe. Not far away, Mother Laura had already broken down completely. “Oh God…” “Sophia is such a kind girl…” “If something really happened to her, what would we do…” She knelt on the deck with her hands clasped together, praying over and over. But her prayers had never once been for me. All she wanted was for Sophia to come back alive. I looked at this so-called family in front of me— and suddenly, all of it felt absurd beyond words. Just then, the captain hurried over. “Mr. Miller.” “According to the tracking data, Ms. Sophia disappeared in this area.” “Based on the timing, her oxygen supply can last thirty more minutes at most.” That sentence completely shattered the last thread of Ryan’s restraint. He spun around and roared at the bodyguards. “What the hell are you waiting for?!” “Put the diving gear on Rosalind!”

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Stellan Thorne walked into my law firm with his third pregnant mistress. And asked me to draft a property transfer agreement for her. His friends stood off to the side, taking bets on how many seconds it would take before I lost control. I didn’t say a word as the thick stack of papers printed out. Stellan pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice low. “Her body can’t handle the physical toll of labor.” “Ines. Once the babies are born, you’ll legally adopt them. You are the only Mrs. Thorne.” I slid the notarized trust agreement across the desk without a word. Out of professional habit, I gave him one last warning. “This is legally binding.” Stellan took the papers, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. He pushed divorce papers across the table toward me, his tone softening. “Sign it. It’s just a formality.” “She’s healthy enough to carry. Once the babies are born and you adopt them, the Board will stop breathing down your neck about being barren.” “You’ll always be Mrs. Thorne. I’m doing this to protect you.” I’d played along with this charade twice before. This time, I signed without hesitation. Then I turned and slipped on the ten-carat pink diamond ring. The one that the Wall Street kingpin had given me. …… Faye Lawson stroked her swollen belly, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Stellan, is Ines upset with me?” “Look, she even bought herself a ring.” Stellan’s eyes locked onto my ring finger. His jaw tightened, irritation flashing across his face. “Ines, knock it off.” “You think some cheap piece of glass is going to change my mind?” I pushed the signed divorce papers back across the desk. “It’s done. Tomorrow morning in my lawyer’s office. Let’s discuss the distribution of assets.” The room went dead silent for a moment. Then Stellan’s buddies burst into laughter. “Ines, you’ve been playing hard to get for three years. Aren’t you bored yet?” “Seriously. Stellan just wants an heir. You can’t give him one, so why block everyone else?” “What kind of selfish woman does that?” Stellan rubbed his temples, clearly fed up with my stubbornness. “Ines, stop this.” “Faye’s carrying twins. The doctor said the pregnancy is high-risk. She needs bed rest.” Faye leaned into Stellan’s chest, her eyes welling up with crocodile tears. “Stellan, I don’t want our babies to grow up in some hidden apartment like they’re shameful.” She looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Ines, could I stay at your penthouse while I’m on bed rest? The security is better there, and it’s closer to the hospital.” That penthouse was the inheritance my parents left me before they died in a car crash. “That’s my pre-marital property.” Faye flinched like I’d slapped her, tears streaming down her face. “Ines, don’t be so mean. I’m only thinking of the babies.” “If you don’t want to, fine. I’ll just take them back to my hometown.” Stellan pulled her closer and turned to me, his voice hard with authority. “Ines, why are you making this difficult?” “The place is sitting empty anyway. Move out tonight and let Faye move in.” I stared at the face I used to love. The woman I’d been back then seemed pathetic now. “Stellan, do you not understand English?” “That’s my property.” Stellan’s expression darkened. “Ines, it’s just a penthouse. Once the babies are born, you’ll get it back.” “Faye is pregnant. Think of the bigger picture.” His friends chimed in from the sidelines. “Ines, Faye’s carrying the Thorne heirs. You can’t spare one apartment?” I looked at Stellan calmly. “And if I refuse?” Stellan let out a cold laugh and pulled out his phone. “Your firm’s biggest client is Thorne Enterprises, isn’t it?” “Ines, you’re a smart woman. You know what to do. Don’t make me use leverage.” For his mistress, he was threatening the career I’d built from nothing. I looked at the smug certainty in his eyes and suddenly smiled. “Fine. I’ll move out.” Stellan blinked, clearly not expecting me to cave so easily. Satisfaction flickered in his eyes, and his tone softened. “Good. Be reasonable, and I’ll take care of you.” “Move back to the Thorne Estate tonight. Tomorrow my assistant will help Faye settle in.” I stood and let my gaze sweep over all of them. “I’ll have it cleared out tonight.” “Stellan, I hope you don’t regret this.” Stellan scoffed. “It’s just temporary while Faye’s on bed rest. The penthouse is still yours. Stop being dramatic.” Faye tilted her chin up and shot me a triumphant smirk. I didn’t spare them another glance as I walked out of the office. As the door closed behind me, I could still hear his boys laughing. “Stellan’s got her wrapped around his finger.” “Once those twins are born, Stellan will have three kids. Three!” Three kids? I laughed under my breath. I hoped he’d still be smiling when he learned the truth.

That night, a storm rolled in. I went back to the Central Park penthouse to pack. There wasn’t much to take. I didn’t touch a single thing that belonged to Stellan. I took my parents’ photo and my five-year-old Ragdoll cat, Snowball. Snowball seemed to sense my mood and gently licked my fingers. The lock beeped. Stellan walked in, rain dripping from his coat. He saw the suitcase by the door and his expression hardened. “You’re actually leaving?” “Ines, I told you to move back to the Estate. What the hell are you packing for?” I stuffed the last coat into my suitcase and zipped it shut. “The papers are signed. Why would I go back to the Estate?” “Save your energy for your precious twins.” Stellan strode over and slammed his hand down on my suitcase. “Are you done throwing your tantrum?” “I told you the divorce is just a formality. Why are you making this difficult?” “You’re a woman. Without me, without the Thorne family, where the hell do you think you’re going?” His eyes were full of certainty. He thought I couldn’t survive on my own. I shoved his hand off. “Where I go is none of your concern anymore.” Stellan’s face darkened. He was about to explode when Faye’s call came through. Her voice on the other end was a whimpering mess. “Stellan, I’m scared without you here.” “The thunder is so loud. My stomach hurts. What if something’s wrong with the babies?” Stellan’s expression shifted to panic. “Faye, don’t worry. I’m coming right now.” He hung up and shot me a cold glare. “Ines, you better pray nothing happens to Faye’s babies.” “Otherwise, I will never forgive you.” He turned and disappeared into the storm. I watched his retreating figure and felt nothing but contempt. When I was bleeding out in the operating room from an ectopic pregnancy, where was he? He was touring venues for his first mistress’s kid’s shower. I closed my eyes and buried that humiliating memory. I grabbed my suitcase, scooped up Snowball, and left the penthouse for good. The next morning, I showed up on time at my lawyer’s office, waited until the close of business. Stellan never showed. He didn’t answer a single call. As I was leaving, one of his friends called me instead. “Ines, do you have any conscience at all?” “Faye had complications last night. Stellan was at the hospital with her all night, and you’re still pushing him to finalize the divorce?” “Are you trying to kill his babies? Is that what you want?” My voice was flat and emotionless. “If he’s busy, we can reschedule.” I hung up and headed straight to my firm. The moment I walked through the door, I could feel the tension. My assistant Clara rushed over, her eyes red and frantic. “Ines, we have a problem.” “Thorne Enterprises’ Legal Department just sent an email. They’ve terminated all contracts with us, effective immediately.” “And they’re telling other clients that anyone who works with us is declaring war on Thorne.” I stopped in my tracks, my eyes going cold. Stellan was trying to force me to crawl back. He thought cutting off my income would make me submit. I opened my laptop to find a dozen termination emails from the major clients I’d spent years building relationships with. My phone buzzed with a text from Stellan. [Apologize to Faye. Promise to behave and stay, Mrs. Thorne. I’ll restore the contracts.] [Ines, don’t test my patience.] I stared at the screen and laughed. He always had that same condescending, magnanimous tone. I didn’t reply. Then I blocked his number and dialed someone else. The call connected immediately. A man’s deep voice came through the line. “So Stellan finally kicked you to the curb?” “Evander, you win.” I stared out the window. “I don’t want Thorne’s business anymore. But I need you to do something for me.”

The man on the other end let out a low laugh. “Name it. I’d hand you all of Wall Street if you asked.” “What do you need?” My voice turned ice-cold. “I want Thorne Enterprises to go into financial freefall within a month.” Over the next few days, Stellan didn’t show his face. He probably assumed I was somewhere scrambling to save my firm, ready to come crawling back any second. He had no idea. I’d already sold my stake in the firm for a fortune and quietly taken over all of Sinclair Group’s North American legal operations. That afternoon, I’d just finished a meeting at Sinclair Tower when my phone rang. The vet clinic. “Ms. Kensington, something’s happened to your cat!” My heart seized. I drove straight to the clinic. I pushed through the door to find Snowball lying on the operating table, blood matting her white fur, barely breathing. The vet’s hands were covered in blood, his face grim. “Ms. Kensington, she was beaten with a blunt object. Internal damage. We did everything we could.” My mind went blank. Snowball was a birthday gift from my parents. She’d stayed with me through countless sleepless, lonely nights. My hands trembled as I stroked her bloodstained fur. Snowball struggled to open her eyes one last time, looked at me, and then stopped breathing. “Who did this?” My voice came out hoarse. The vet sighed and pulled up the security footage from outside. On the screen, Faye stood in oversized sunglasses, gripping a golf club. Behind her, a bodyguard dragged Snowball out of her carrier. Faye didn’t hesitate. She swung the club down hard, over and over. When Snowball finally stopped moving, Faye kicked her in disgust. “Stupid animal thought it could scratch me? Should’ve known its place.” She turned to the bodyguard. “Toss it on the street. Don’t let Stellan see this mess.” I stared at the screen, my nails digging into my palms until I couldn’t feel them anymore. I pulled out my phone and called the police. Half an hour later, officers escorted me to what used to be my home. The door swung open. Faye was curled up in Stellan’s arms. When she saw the cops, she let out a shriek and hid behind him. “Stellan, I’m scared.” Stellan stepped in front of her, his face dark with fury as he glared at me. “Ines, what the hell is wrong with you now?” “Bringing cops to my home? Are you trying to humiliate me?” I looked at him coldly. “Faye is under investigation for destruction of property and animal cruelty. I’m pressing charges.” Stellan froze for a second, then laughed in disbelief. “Over that worthless cat?” “Ines, are you out of your mind? It’s a cat. It’s dead. I’ll buy you ten more if you want.” “Faye is pregnant. She can’t handle this kind of stress. Get the hell out of my house. Now.” I stared at the man in front of me. He felt like a stranger. “That cat was mine. My parents gave her to me.” “What did she do to deserve being beaten to death?” Faye peeked out from behind Stellan, tears streaming down her face. “Ines, stop lying.” “The cat went crazy and tried to claw my stomach. I was protecting the Thorne heirs. It was self-defense.” “Do you really value an animal over the lives of our children?” Stellan’s expression turned vicious. He lunged forward and raised his hand. The slap echoed through the room. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, and my ears rang. Stellan pointed at me, shaking with rage. “Ines, how twisted are you?” “You can’t have children, so you use a damn animal to try and kill mine?” “If anything happens to Faye’s babies, you’ll pay with your life.” The officers immediately stepped forward and pulled Stellan back. “Mr. Thorne, calm down. You just assaulted someone in front of law enforcement. We can arrest you for that.” Stellan didn’t even flinch. He straightened his cuffs with a cold smirk. “Arrest me? The Police Commissioner answers my calls. I’m disciplining my wife. You think you can arrest me?” He turned back to me, his eyes full of warning. “Ines, I’m giving you one last chance.” “Drop the charges. Get on your knees and apologize to Faye.” “Or I’ll make sure you never work in this city again.” I wiped the blood from my mouth and looked at the two of them with complete calm. The rage had burned out, leaving only clarity. “Stellan, that slap just severed the last thread between us.” “You want children?” “Then I hope you have a beautiful family together.” I turned to the officers. “I’ve submitted the surveillance footage. I’m pressing charges.” I walked out without looking back. Behind me, Stellan’s voice exploded into the night. “Ines! Don’t you dare walk out that door!” “If you leave, you’re never coming back!”

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“I have an announcement. Ivy and I got married.” My husband said it at Thanksgiving dinner, with my sister’s hand held gently in his. For a few seconds, I thought I had misheard him. Last night, he kissed me and promised that today he would tell everyone we had been secretly married for five years. Now he was holding Ivy’s hand at my mother’s table, letting everyone believe she was his wife. My mother froze with her fork halfway to her plate. Then her face lit up. “Oh, Declan. Ivy. That’s wonderful.” “Well, now you’re married to Ivy, so we really need to find someone for Olivia. If you know any decent single men, you should introduce them to Olivia.” After dinner, Declan motioned for me to follow him to the balcony. He lit a cigarette, his voice flat and detached. “Remember the papers you signed last week while you were drunk? I lied to you.” “Those weren’t for home purchase. Those were divorce papers.” My body went cold as I forced the words out. “Why would you do this?” Declan let out a heavy sigh and ruffled my hair. “Ivy is just an adopted daughter in your family.” “What if your mother forces her to marry a disgusting old man for business? I had to protect her.” From inside, I heard Ivy calling for him to come home, her voice soft and needy. I watched them walk away together, then turned to my mother with tears streaming down my face. “Mom, I want to go with you. Let’s relocate to Switzerland like you’ve been asking.” My mother froze mid-step, caught off guard. She rushed over and pressed her palm against my forehead, genuinely confused. “You’re not running a fever. I’ve been begging you for months and you kept refusing. What changed your mind so suddenly?” I’d refused before because I couldn’t leave Declan behind. He had severe chronic stomach issues. Without me, he was completely helpless at taking care of himself. And besides, our five-year agreement was almost up. Once we went public with our marriage, I could move into the penthouse with him and we’d have the life I’d been dreaming of all these years. But now he’d kicked me to the curb with some pathetic excuse, choosing Ivy over me instead. My vision blurred as tears threatened to spill over. I ducked away from my mother’s concerned gaze and quickly wiped my eyes, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I just need a change of scenery. I heard Switzerland is full of attractive men anyway. Maybe I’ll even find you a European son-in-law.” My mother stared at my red-rimmed eyes and let out the softest sigh. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re heartbroken because Declan married Ivy, aren’t you?” “I’ve known since you were children that you had feelings for him. He always took such good care of you. I never imagined he’d marry Ivy.” Mom’s words finally broke the dam holding back all my hurt. I collapsed into my mother’s arms and let myself fall apart. She didn’t know that just last night, Declan had kissed me so tenderly. She didn’t know that the simple silver band on my finger, the one I never let anyone touch, was slipped by Declan. Back in my room, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Ivy had sent a series of photos, each one designed to twist the knife. The first showed her and Declan having an intimate candlelit dinner at the exact restaurant where he’d proposed to me. The second was them tangled together, completely naked, in the bed I’d spent weeks picking out. I checked the timestamp on the photo. Two years ago. My blood turned to ice. He’d been cheating on me for that long. The third photo was a group shot from years back. When I recognized the man standing beside Declan, my mind went completely blank. My hands started shaking uncontrollably and my phone clattered to the floor. A new message from Ivy popped up on the screen. “Don’t you want to know why Declan was so desperate to marry you five years ago?”

Five years ago, right before graduation, Ivy suggested we go camping in the Adirondacks for one last adventure. She even brought along some guy none of us knew, called Trent. The entire hike, Trent wouldn’t leave me alone. “Are you thirsty? Want me to carry your bag?” His hand kept brushing against my ass, supposedly by accident. I was terrified and kept trying to catch Declan’s attention, but he completely ignored me. He was too busy crouching down to tie Ivy’s shoelaces. When we were kids, a campus security guard once groped me. I didn’t even understand it was sexual assault at the time, but Declan saw it happen and completely lost it. He punched the guy so hard his nose bled everywhere. Then dragged his uncle who worked on the school board to make sure the creep got fired. But now? He couldn’t even be bothered to look at me. I had no choice but to stick close to our trail guide to escape Trent’s wandering hands. That night, I woke up to freezing air on my chest. I opened my eyes to find Trent unbuttoning my shirt. I screamed. The guide and Declan came running. Declan immediately pulled me into his arms, whispering soothing words. I was sobbing, begging him to call the police. But Declan frowned and stopped me. “Olivia, if we report this, everyone will know. Your reputation will be destroyed.” “Do you want tabloids and paparazzi turning this into a scandal for your family?” I broke down completely. Declan squeezed my hand, his voice gentle. “Don’t be scared. I brought you here, so I’ll take responsibility for you.” Right after graduation, Declan proposed and took me to Vegas to get married. My phone buzzed, snapping me back to the present. I could practically see Ivy’s smug face through the screen. “He married you because he was afraid Mom would blame me for not protecting you. And calling the police would’ve exposed that I was the one who hired Trent to harass you.” “Declan had to shut you up somehow, and he knew you love him, so he sacrificed himself.” It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. Tears splashed down onto the silver ring on my finger. The night we got married, Declan set off the most beautiful fireworks display for me. Under that cascade of sparks, he’d kissed me and made a promise. “Olivia, I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.” We’d kissed so passionately that night, then checked into a hotel suite. Declan had been so gentle taking my virginity. I wanted so badly to laugh at Ivy’s lies, to prove her wrong. But I couldn’t find a single piece of evidence that Declan had ever truly loved me. My phone buzzed again. This time Ivy sent an audio file. My hands were shaking as I pressed play. Declan’s voice came through the speaker. “Ivy, Olivia is pregnant, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” My heart felt like it was being crushed in someone’s fist. Three years into our secret marriage, I found out I was pregnant. Declan had been so excited he stayed up all night with his ear pressed against my stomach. The next morning, he insisted on driving me to my checkup himself. Halfway there, the brakes failed and we slammed into a guardrail. I started bleeding immediately, soaking through my dress and onto the seat. Declan was knocked unconscious and the engine started smoking. My first instinct wasn’t to call an ambulance but to smash through the window with my bare hands, and drag him out before the car exploded. By the time I regained consciousness in the hospital, our baby was already gone. Declan had knelt beside my bed, sobbing uncontrollably. I’d swallowed all my own grief just to comfort him, terrified he’d blame himself. It had all been a setup. I started laughing through my tears, then pulled out the crumpled ultrasound print. Then tore it into pieces.

The next morning, Declan showed up at our door carrying expensive supplements. When he saw the moving boxes in the living room, his brow furrowed. “Eleanor, are you moving?” I answered before my mother could. “No, just clearing out some old junk.” Declan glanced at me, then walked straight to the fridge like he owned the place and stored the supplements inside. “Eleanor, Ivy asked me to bring these tonics for you. She’s been dealing with morning sickness and couldn’t come.” The words hit me like a physical blow. I knew Declan had been cheating for years, but my heart still twisted painfully in my chest. Just last month, I’d casually mentioned wanting to see the Northern Lights in Norway, and he’d cancelled a ten-million-dollar deal without hesitation. Last week when someone at work gave me a hard time, he had bought into the company just to threaten the executives. Declan’s love was apparently infinite enough for two women. After tucking me into bed each night, he still had energy left over to go see Ivy. My mother shot me a quick glance before responding. “Tell Ivy to rest and not worry about me.” Declan nodded, then pulled out a thick stack of files from his briefcase. “By the way, Eleanor, these are profiles of quality single men from my company.” “Take a look and see if any of them might be good for Olivia. ” My eyes landed on the first profile. Trent Lawson. Nausea surged through me and I bolted for the bathroom. My mother rushed after me, panicked, patting my back. “Is your stomach acting up again? You’ve been throwing up for days now.” Declan’s gaze burned into me, his eyes narrowing slightly. While my mother went to get stomach medicine, he walked over and grabbed my wrist hard. “You’re pregnant.” I jerked my hand away in disgust. “No, I’m not.” But he stared at my stomach with cold certainty. “You haven’t had your period in two months.” My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I screamed at him and shoved him hard. “That’s none of your business! You’re Ivy’s husband now. She’s the one you should be worried about!” Before Ivy showed up, Declan used to follow me around everywhere. He knew I loved spicy food but hated sweets, knew I never wanted cream on bagels. He even tracked my irregular periods better than I did. Every time I got cramps so bad I couldn’t get out of bed, Declan would skip hanging out with his friends after school. Instead, he’d go home and take care of me. His mother used to tease me about it, saying she’d never seen Declan care so much about any other girl. She’d even jokingly asked my mother if we should arrange an engagement. But then my mother adopted Ivy from the orphanage. She was so tiny and fragile that a strong wind could knock her over. During morning track practice one day, Ivy collapsed and fell into me. We both got hurt, but Declan didn’t hesitate for a second before picking her up and running to the nurse’s office. After that, I stopped being the one Declan protected. I cried about it. I even told him we weren’t friends anymore. He just patted my head and said Ivy was an orphan and needed more help. Strong people should take care of weak people. So Declan forced me to take care of Ivy too. When my mother sent new clothes to school, Declan made Ivy pick first. When my mother packed identical lunches for both of us, Declan would take all the meat from mine and give it to Ivy. He could protect Ivy all he wanted, but why did he have to use me as a stepping stone for their love? Footsteps approached and I frantically wiped away my tears. For just a split second, I thought I saw something like pain flash in Declan’s eyes. But it vanished instantly. Right before my mother walked back in, he leaned close to my ear. “Get an abortion.” “Ivy has always been sensitive. If she knows about this, she’ll think there’s still something between us.” I’d said those exact same words to him once. When we were camping and setting up tents, I’d told Declan I felt insecure and wanted to sleep near him. He’d refused, saying he needed to stay with Ivy. After my miscarriage, I’d begged him to stay with me at the hospital. He said it was Ivy’s birthday and she’d be hurt if he missed it. When I got jealous and demanded to know what his relationship with Ivy really was, he’d looked at me like I was insane. “Olivia, you’re being ridiculous. I only see Ivy as a sister.” I wasn’t being ridiculous. He was just covering his cheating tracks. He has no right to demand that I abort my child. I laughed coldly and pushed him away. “This is my business. It has nothing to do with you.”

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On the night of the full moon, more than a dozen girls from the pack and I stood in a line, waiting to be chosen by the werewolf warriors. Those who were chosen would successfully form a bond. Those who were not would be sent to the rogue packs as sacrificial brides for political alliances. I held my head high, because everyone knew the future Alpha, Aiden Blackthorn, would choose me. After all, we had grown up together, and he loved me. But at the very last moment, he chose Lila Fairchild. All because he said, “Lila is soft-hearted. If she wasn’t chosen, she’d feel humiliated and cry. You’re different. You know in your heart that I love you. You won’t hold this against Lila, right?” I smiled, turned around, and left for the rogue lands. Later, he cried and begged me not to go. … After the choosing ceremony ended, Lila clung to Aiden’s arm, crying with gratitude. Aiden’s face was full of tenderness. Every chosen girl around me was overjoyed. Except me. I was the daughter of a pack elder, noble in status and pure in bloodline. Because everyone knew I was with Aiden, no one besides him dared to choose me. But I never expected that, at the final moment, Aiden would choose someone else. According to the rules, I would become the sacrifice sent to the rogue packs. At that moment, he walked over to me, his face full of gentleness. “Come on. I know you’re upset, but Lila comes from a poor background. Her bloodline isn’t pure, and she’s simple-minded. If she were the only one left unchosen tonight, she would have been devastated.” Then what about me? Did my feelings not matter at all? Bitterness filled my eyes. “Do you even know what tonight’s Moonshadow Ceremony means?” This time was different from the past. Ever since the rogue lands gained a leader, their strength had grown day by day. The Moonshadow Pack had only decided to send she-wolves out for marriage alliances because we could no longer stand against them. Tonight’s Moonshadow Ceremony was the final decision. I thought I would not be the werewolf sacrificed. Because Aiden loved me. He had given me his first wolf fang. He had defied his family for me. He had charged into the Thornlands for me and come back covered in wounds. He had looked at me with deep affection and said that, in this lifetime, he would only ever bond with me. Just yesterday, he had stood in front of me and said with a smile, “I won’t choose anyone else. It has always been Sophia. Sophia is my only choice.” Back then, my heart had been full of sweetness. But now, all that sweetness had become a joke. Guilt appeared on Aiden’s face. “Don’t worry. I won’t bond with Lila. I only wanted to help her out so she wouldn’t feel embarrassed. I never thought of anything else. I told you, you’re the only one who will ever be my Luna.” Seeing that I was still frowning, he took my hand and coaxed me like a child. “I just felt sorry for her. Don’t be mad, okay?” I looked at his innocent expression. Even now, every word out of his mouth was still defending Lila. I shook off his hand and demanded angrily, “Aiden, you know tonight’s Moonshadow Ceremony means the final choice!” “Sophia!” Before I could finish, a sharp voice rang out beside us. Lila ran over, grabbed Aiden’s arm, and looked at me with tear-filled eyes. “Don’t yell at Aiden. This is all my fault. I ruined your happiness. I embarrassed you. But I couldn’t help it. I’m not as likable as you. No one else chose me. I only have Aiden.” As she spoke, she covered her face and sobbed. “It’s only because Aiden pitied me. I’m sorry. If you blame me for this, I can apologize. I’m sorry.” Before Lila could even finish apologizing, Aiden’s face tightened with distress. He pulled the pitiful Lila behind him and cut her off anxiously. “Enough, Sophia. You’re being so petty. My Luna would never be as graceless as you.” After he said it, he seemed to realize his tone had been too harsh. His voice softened. “All right. I’ll take Lila back to her quarters first. I’ll come find you afterward.” Then he left with Lila, without looking back. I watched their backs disappear as the mocking voices around me grew clearer and clearer. “She kept saying Aiden liked her. Turns out it was all fake. What a liar. If he liked her, why didn’t he choose her? She stole Lila’s love and still had the nerve to show off.” “How funny. She’s the daughter of a pack elder, and now she’s going to be sent to the rogue lands to be humiliated by those lowborn wolves. How pitiful.” My eyes turned red. The strength I had been forcing myself to hold together finally collapsed. I wiped away my tears and walked out, only to receive a familiar call. “Sophia, don’t cry. Come to me. I’ll protect you.” I never expected that the legendary new leader of the rogue lands, the man said to be unbeatable, would turn out to be my stepbrother, who had once been banished from the pack. “Sophia, if you’re willing to leave with me, I’ll come to the pack and get you.”

I stayed silent for a long time. I did not know whether Aiden understood how different this Moonshadow Ceremony was. More than ten years of history between us. I remembered everything that man had done for me. I did not want to give up without understanding why. I wanted an answer. Just one answer. I said to my stepbrother, “Let me think about it. I’ll give you an answer before noon tomorrow.” I wanted an answer. Only an answer. I gritted my teeth and ran all the way to Lila’s quarters. The door was open. Inside, dim candlelight flickered. Lila was pressed against Aiden’s chest, tears sliding down her cheeks. Aiden looked at her with pity, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders, as though he were comforting a frightened young wolf. “Aiden, I’m… I’m different from Sophia,” Lila choked out. “She’s so noble, and I’m nothing. No one chose me. I… I always feel like I’m worthless. I’m not as likable as all of you. No one ever notices me. I… I only have you.” Her voice was weak, with a trembling hint of desperate flattery woven through it. Aiden gently patted her back and said in a low voice, “You don’t need to apologize. You don’t have to say these things.” Lila took the opportunity to lift her head. Her eyes were misty with tears, but there was a trace of slyness hidden in them. Her lips touched Aiden’s. It was a soft yet teasing kiss, like a test and a confirmation all at once. But Aiden only froze for one second. He did not push her away. Lila’s voice filled with joy. “Aiden, you chose me. Does that mean you’re willing to bond with me too?” Aiden frowned deeply, but he shook his head with certainty. “My future Luna will only be Sophia.” Lila sobbed, her tears falling onto his chest. “Aiden, I’m not asking for a title. But I know I must have a place in your heart, or you wouldn’t have chosen me. If you can’t give me the status of Luna, then could you… mark me first?” Under the candlelight, my heart clenched. I could faintly see the hesitation on Aiden’s face. His hand was still around Lila’s back. His eyes were full of pity. He let her throw herself into his arms and kiss him, deeper and deeper, almost drawing him into desire. I stood frozen in the darkness, my heart twisting like it had been cut apart. But I still stubbornly waited for an answer. At last, in the pitch-black night, I heard Aiden answer in a low voice. “Okay.” The next instant, his fangs flashed coldly and sank into Lila’s neck. Blood seeped into the air, carrying the heavy scent of iron. My heart hurt. It hurt even more than when I had been ignored at the Moonshadow Ceremony. So this man I had grown up with had fallen in love with someone else, yet still falsely promised me the title of Luna. I tightened my grip on my phone, my fingers trembling. I called Aiden, hoping the call would stop what they were doing. But Aiden only froze for a moment. Then he let the phone keep ringing and continued to complete the mark. Only after he was done did he take out his phone. When he saw that the call had been from me, a flash of guilt crossed his eyes. But he did not call me back. He only sent a message. Sophia, it’s late tonight. I’ll come find you tomorrow. Then I watched him enter Lila’s bedroom. Soon, the two of them were tangled together. My heart shattered completely. I did not wait until noon tomorrow. I immediately called my stepbrother back. “I’ve decided. I’ll leave with you tomorrow.” A cold wind swept past. Moonlight poured through the forest like water. My heart was completely cold. But my decision had been made. I would take control of my own fate.

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At eighteen, Damian Knight pulled my little sister and me out of the underground market. That was the day I started to love him. That was also the day I started to die for him. Also from that day on, I bled for him. I burned for him. I took the bullets and the blades without a word. On the day I was promoted to underboss of the Knight family. The youngest in Knight history. The only woman. I thought that meant something. Then he brought a girl home. I remember because I’d just walked in from a job. There was still blood on my collar, drying tacky against my throat. He walked in with a girl on his arm instead. “Selene,” he said, looking at my blood‑soaked clothes with disgust, “go clean yourself up. You’re frightening my baby.” That girl became his obsession. His soldiers quietly started calling her Mrs. Knight. Damian took the guns from my hands. Then he tied an apron around my waist — ridiculous — and tightened the bow at the small of my back with hands that didn’t tremble at all. From then on, I was her personal servant. When she didn’t want to eat, Damian made me kneel at her feet and feed her bite by bite. Every scar she got, he carved ten more into my skin for failing to protect her. I never cried. I never fought back. Because years ago, he had asked me: “You want to repay me? Do one hundred things for me.” I pulled out the worn notebook. I was looking at the last two lines. Soon, I would owe him nothing. I was carrying a tray of food to Iris Vale’s room when Damian stopped me. “Selene, go get your sister’s bracelet. Iris wants it.” That bracelet was the only thing my parents left for Luna. Luna slept with it under her pillow. He saw my red eyes and his face went dark. “Selene.” When Damian used my full name, it meant he was furious. And everyone in the family knew what happened when he lost his temper. I thought of two days ago, I had refused to hand over my sunglasses to Iris at the riding ground. Damian had me tied behind a Iris’s horse and dragged across the field for an afternoon. The way the gravel had felt against my back for an entire afternoon. I turned and went to Luna’s room. I slipped the bracelet onto Iris’s wrist from my younger sister. “It suits you.” Damian smiled, pleased. He pulled Iris against his chest and said, “I have hundreds of men. And not one of them is as obedient as she is.” “As long as you keep her happy, Selene, maybe we can still talk about our wedding.” Before I could respond, Iris slammed the bracelet onto the floor. “Damian! You promised you would marry only me!” Tears streamed down her face. Damian’s heart crumbled. He pulled her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. I fell to my knees and gathered the shattered pieces. My fingers bled. The people around me watched like they were at a show. Even I knew how ridiculous I looked. Last month, I had nearly died on a mission. Damian stood over my hospital bed, tubes running out of every part of my body, and said coldly, “You’ve gotten weak, Selene. A handful of men did this to you? Then again, Iris needs a new maid.” I grabbed the broken pieces tighter. My eyes were redder than the blood on my hands. That night, Luna saw her mother’s bracelet destroyed. She cried until she nearly passed out. I held her and promised, “Just hold on a little longer. We’ll be free soon.” The door was kicked open. Damian stood there, his face dark. “Stop crying! You woke up Iris.” He jerked his head. “Take your sister and go to the house on the west. Now.” Before I could argue, his men shoved us into a car. Luna screamed at him, “Damian! You weren’t like this before— please—!” He froze for a second. The air in the corridor turned to glass. I clamped my hand over Luna’s mouth. Her tears wet my fingers. After Iris came, I had learned to keep my mouth shut. When I begged Damian to come back to the compound, he announced to everyone that I was no longer underboss. All my years of hard work had come to nothing. When I asked Iris not to go to the shooting range for playing, he aimed a gun at my forehead and told me to remember my place. When he was wounded and I brought him soup, he threw the bowl at the door. “Stop caring about me. Iris will get the wrong idea.” But he had been the one to say he loved me first. He had been the one to say he wanted to marry me. I pulled my hand away from Luna’s mouth. She was still crying softly. The house on the west was located in a border zone, right between warring families. A death trap. I jumped out of the car and ran back to the villa. When I knocked on the door, the sounds inside room stopped. A glass bottle shattered against my forehead. I bit down on the pain and bowed. “Miss Vale, I apologize for my sister. I promise she won’t disturb you again.” Damian looked at the blood running down my face. He’s chest rose and fell. “Who are you trying to fool with that pathetic act? People will think Iris was the one who hurt you.” I ignored him and kept apologizing to Iris. Finally, I knelt and pressed my forehead to the floor three times. She smiled. “I’m tired, Damian. Just let her go.” Damian kissed her forehead and shook his head. “You’re too soft, sweetheart. People will walk all over you.” He turned to me. “You care about your sister so much, then you can walk her there yourself.” That night, Luna’s fever hit a hundred and four. I carried her on my back through a blizzard for hours. In the hospital waiting room, I pulled out the notebook and wrote two words under the list. Bracelet. Two more things. Then I would be free.

The house on the west was far from the family compound. Before dawn the next morning, I was already on my feet, heading back to the villa to prepare Iris’s breakfast. The snow had stopped, but the cold was still brutal. I had barely stepped through the kitchen door when Damian’s men grabbed me. They bound my hands, shoved a gag in my mouth, and threw me into the back of an armored SUV. When they pulled me out, I was kneeling in the middle of a private shooting range. Oak trees bare of leaves. Targets lined up at fifty yards. And at the far end, Damian stood with his arm around Iris, whispering something in her ear. He looked at me like I was livestock. “Go stand over there,” he said, pointing at the target board. My head snapped up. “She’s never handled a gun in her life. I’ll die.” Iris’s face fell. She pressed herself against Damian’s chest. “Damian, Selene’s right. I am so useless. Maybe I shouldn’t—” “Don’t say that.” Damian kissed her temple. “You’ll be a marksman. I promise.” Then, over the crown of her head, without looking up “What are you waiting for? When did you start ignoring my orders?” I didn’t move. My old wounds throbbed under the bandages. Every bullet I had ever taken for him seemed to burn again. He saw me shaking. Then he stepped away from Iris, walked across the gravel, and took my jaw in his hand. “If you don’t go, I’ll put Luna out there instead. She owes me a life too.” He meant it. If I refused again, my ten‑year‑old sister would be the next target. I closed my eyes and swallowed the bile in my throat. “She’s small. I’m bigger. Miss Vale will have more fun.” Damian’s grip loosened. “Good girl.” He turned back to Iris, showing her how to load the revolver. She giggled nervously. “What if I miss, baby? Would you be angry at me?” He spun the chamber, one bullet at a time. “Don’t worry. She won’t die. She’s taken hundreds of rounds for me. A few from you will barely tickle.” Then, the first bullet tore through my knee. I collapsed onto the frozen dirt. I could feel the blood pulsing out of my leg in slow, warm thuds, soaking through the wool of my coat. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard her. Laughing. Damian didn’t even blink. “Again.” The second shot went into my left shoulder. I hit the ground face‑first, gasping. Blood soaked through my white dress. His men exchanged uncertain looks. No one helped me. “Get her up,” Damian said flatly. Two soldiers hauled me to my feet. My legs barely held. Third shot. My left abdomen. I coughed blood onto the snow. Fourth. My right arm. Iris raised the revolver for the fifth time. She was grinning now, her teeth white, her eyes bright. “Enough,” Damian said, taking the gun from her hand. A flicker of jealousy crossed her face, Iris stomped her foot. “But I was just starting to get the feel of it!” He hesitated. Then he glanced at one of his men. “Bring Luna.” “No…” I tried to scream, but the blood in my throat came out as a gurgle. “She’s only ten. She’s still sick. Please…” Damian’s face flickered—for just a moment. Then he turned away. “She’ll be fine. Iris needs more practice.” I watched through a blur of tears as two soldiers dragged my sister onto the range. They had her by the elbows, the way they’d had me. Her bare feet didn’t touch the ground between them. She was so small. Her hair was still wet from the fever. She screamed my name. “Selene! Please!” “Selene! Help me—” The revolver fired. Her voice stopped.

I woke up in a hospital bed. For a moment I didn’t know where I was. Tubes ran into my arms. The heart monitor beeped a slow, steady rhythm. Every inch of my body felt like it had been set on fire and stamped out half‑way. “Luna!” I shot upright. My elbow caught the edge of a tray, and a bowl of broth went flying. Soup splashed across the floor. Damian stood at the foot of the bed, wiping his sleeve. His face was tight, but not with anger—something else. Something I hadn’t seen in a long time. I grabbed his wrist with the little strength I had left. “Where is she? Take me to her.” “She’s alive,” he said quietly. He didn’t pull away. “She’s in surgery. You’ll see her when she’s stable.” “Surgery?” My voice cracked. “You put a ten‑year‑old girl on a firing range. You let that woman—” “Iris didn’t know the gun was loaded with real rounds.” His jaw tightened. “It was a mistake.” “A mistake.” I laughed. It came out like a sob. He knelt beside the bed and picked up a new bowl of soup from the nightstand. “You need to eat. You lost a lot of blood.” I turned my head away. He didn’t get angry. He didn’t throw the bowl. He just sat there, holding it, waiting. For three days, he stayed. He brought me photographs of Luna in her hospital bed—bandaged, unconscious, but alive. He spoon‑fed me broth when I refused to eat. When I pressed my lips shut, he drank the soup himself and kissed me, forcing it down my throat. I wiped my lips on the back of my hand. I tore the bowl out of his grip and finished it myself. He blinked, surprised. Then, slowly, he smiled. He didn’t say anything. For three days, he was the man I had fallen in love with. I let myself believe him. — Iris Vale came to visit on the fourth day. She walked into my room in a pale pink dress, her hair curled, her cheeks flushed. She looked like she had just come from a garden party, not from nearly murdering a child. She stood up suddenly when saw me open eyes. Smoothed her dress slowly. And picked up the small crystal vase from my bedside — the one Damian had refilled with white roses every morning for four days. It hit the floor and shattered. She gasped —and pressed her palm down hard against the shards. I watched her do it. I watched her watch *me* do it. By the time she lifted her hand, her palm was a mess of bright red and broken crystal, and her cheeks were already wet with tears she had not had two seconds ago. “*Selene!*” she sobbed. “Why would you push me —Damian, help—” The door burst open. Damian saw the glass first. Then Iris. On her knees. Bleeding into the rug. Then me. Half-upright in the hospital bed. Bandaged. Still hooked to the IV. Hands empty. “What happened?” He rushed to her side. The man who had spent four days holding my hand at night vanished-*that* man came back. Damian’s head snapped toward me. “Selene Ashford. Have you lost your mind?” He pulled Iris into his arms, her cheek against his collar, his palm cradling the back of her head. His eyes — over the crown of her hair — were murderous. “Apologize to her.” I stared at him. “I didn’t do anything.” Iris pulled at his sleeve. “Damian, please don’t be angry with her. She’s so sick.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re too soft.” “Have I spoiled you?” he said, low. “Have I been too soft with you lately? You think you can defy me now?” I didn’t move. His voice went cold. “If you don’t want me to pull the plug on Luna’s ventilator, you will kneel.”

My hand, gripping the bed rail, went white at the knuckles. Under the hospital gown, my nails sank into the soft skin of my own palm. I slid off the bed and onto the cold tile floor. The kindness of the last four days collapsed in on itself. It had never been kindness. Iris watched me from the safety of his arms. Her lips curved—just a little. “Say you’re sorry,” Damian said. “I’m sorry.” My voice was flat. He frowned. “Kneel lower.” I pressed my forehead to the ground. “Say it again.” “I’m sorry.” “Again.” “I’m sorry.” I lost count of how many times I said it until the inside of my throat was raw. He didn’t tell me to stop. He just stood there, holding Iris, stroking her hair, while I knelt at their feet like a dog. When he finally looked down at me, his eyes were empty. “Get out.” I stayed on the floor. He picked Iris up and carried her out of the room, murmuring about getting her hand stitched. The door swung shut behind them. I crawled to the nightstand and pulled out my notebook. I stayed on my knees in the floor. I didn’t get up until I was sure his footsteps had faded all the way down the corridor. When I finally did, my legs would not quite hold me. I caught the edge of the bed with both hands. A single shard of crystal had embedded itself in my knee. I pulled it out without looking. The blood that ran down my shin was the same color as the blood Iris had smeared across her palm. The same color, exactly. It almost made me laugh. I limped to the wardrobe. I opened the bottom drawer. Under a folded sweater, wrapped in a square of black silk, was the notebook. I sat down on the floor with it in my lap. My hand was shaking so badly the pen wouldn’t write at first. I had to brace my wrist against my thigh. Below the line that said *the pearls*, I wrote two words. *Be a human taget.* Then, on the line below that — in handwriting that no longer looked like mine — The door creaked. “What are you doing?” I went still. The doorframe shifted behind me — and I felt a peple shadow fall across the back of my neck like a blade. I closed the notebook. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

I shoved the notebook back into the drawer, but he had already seen it. Damian leaned against the doorframe and gave a soft, dismissive snort. “Writing in your little book again? More of that self-pitying garbage?” He stepped past me, bent down, and picked up the bracelet Iris had dropped on the floor. “Tomorrow you’re going dress shopping with her,” he said without looking up. “You’ve been a bride-to-be before. Help her pick something.” He walked out. I stared at the door for a long time after it closed. A few months ago, I had said I wanted to try on wedding dresses. Just once. Just to feel what it was like. Damian had given me a dozen reasons why we couldn’t. Too busy. Too dangerous. Too early. Soon. I let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. Then I nodded, slowly, to no one. — The next morning, Damian sent a car for me. I was still weak from surgery, still bleeding through my bandages. But the soldiers who came to my room didn’t care. They pulled me into the back seat and drove me to a bridal boutique in the old quarter of Verenza City. Iris was already there, standing in front of a three‑way mirror in a white gown. Damian sat in a velvet chair by the window, watching her spin. The shop assistants whispered behind their hands. “Look at her face. You’d think she was picking out funeral clothes.” “She’s the Don’s mistress, I heard. The other one.” “A mistress? With a face like that?” I said nothing. I walked to the rack and started sliding hangers. Iris tried on one dress after another. Damian used words I had never heard him speak to anyone. It seems he used all the words of praise he had here. She threw the fifth dress on the floor in a heap of white silk and pearls and turned to me with a little pout. “I’m tired. Selene, you try it on. Show me how it looks.” Before Damian could protest, I picked up the gown and walked into the fitting room. — When I pulled back the curtain, the room went silent. The dress was white—the same white as Iris’s. But on me, it was different. The fabric clung to my body, and my body was a map of violence. Black bruises covered my arms. Three fresh bullet wounds on my left shoulder, still seeping red through the bandages. A long, jagged scar across my right side where a knife had opened me up two years ago. Iris backed away, her hand over her mouth. “What is that? Damian, it’s hideous. I’m going to be sick.” Damian’s face went dark. “What are you standing there for? Cover yourself up.” I didn’t move. “Are you deaf?” He stood up, his chair scraping against the marble floor. “You’re disgusting. Put your clothes back on.” I turned and walked back into the fitting room. The fabric pulled against my wounds. It hurt. Everything hurt. I peeled off the gown and put on my own clothes—the same gray sweater, the same worn boots. When I came out, Iris had already moved on to accessories. In the end, she couldn’t choose. Damian bought every dress in the boutique. I picked up a small pink dress from the children’s section. A gift for Luna, when she finally woke up. Iris snatched it from my hand. “Buying this?” She smiled. “To burn at her grave?”

My blood went cold. “What did you say?” She pulled out her phone and opened her photo gallery. One image after another. Luna on the range. Luna on the ground. Luna’s small body covered in blood. “I only shot her once,” Iris said, scrolling slowly. “She was quiet after that. Much better behaved than you. One more bullet and she would have been completely silent.” I went still. “The last shot was Damian’s.” Her mouth curved up. “She was crying, calling him *brother, please* — and he just pulled the trigger. So cold. So beautiful. I finally understood why he likes guns so much.” I lunged. My hands closed around her throat. I slammed her against the wall and lifted her off the floor. She clawed at my arms, her face turning red. “Selene!” Damian’s voice roared from somewhere behind me. I didn’t let go. The shop assistants screamed. I heard chairs overturn. Then Damian’s boot connected with my ribs, and I flew sideways into a display rack. Glass shattered around me. He had a gun in his hand, pointed at my forehead. “Selene Ashford.” His voice was very cold. “Have you lost your mind?” He was shaking with rage. “All she did was call you ugly, and you try to kill her? I’ve been too soft with you.” Iris was sobbing on the floor. Damian knelt beside her, cradling her against his chest. I spat blood onto the tiles. “She killed my sister.” “Your sister is alive,” he snapped. “Barely. And if you ever raise a hand to Iris again, I’ll make sure Luna stays that way.” I stared at him. At the gun in his hand. At the woman in his arms, who was smiling over his shoulder. “Then kill me.” My voice cracked. “Do it. Damian.” His finger twitched on the trigger. I watched his face—waiting for the bullet. Then his eyes found my face — really found it, tears and blood and all — and his whole body locked up. Instead, he shoved the gun back into his holster. “Get her back to the compound. Lock her in the basement.” Soldiers grabbed me by the arms. I didn’t fight. As they dragged me out, Damian called after me, “I’ll deal with you after the wedding.” I didn’t look back. — I thought he would tear me apart. I had seen him take a man’s hand off at the wrist for less. Instead he locked me in the basement. No one came to see me. No food. No water. Just the dripping of a leaky pipe somewhere above my head and the rustle of rats in the corners. I sat on the cold concrete floor with the bag of broken pearls in my lap and let the tears come. After a while, I started to laugh. Damian. Damian Knight. I was sorry. I was sorry I hadn’t run sooner. I was sorry I’d ever taken his hand in the back of that car. I was sorry I had spent seven years writing his name across my own heart in scar tissue with the other way. Most of all — I was sorry I had let him save me. Maybe Luna would still be whole. Maybe she would have grown up in some quiet little town somewhere, in a house with a yard, with a mother who lived through a fever, with knees that had never known what a bullet felt like. I heard that the soldiers outside the door whispered to each other. *He’s busy with the wedding.* *Reception’s tomorrow. Roses just got delivered.* I curled tighter around the pearls. Tomorrow. He was marrying her tomorrow.

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They locked me in the temple cellar to die in childbirth. They forgot one thing: my father is Hades, and the dead always come when I call. I’m on the birthing stone. The contractions come faster, harder, ripping through me. Alexios holds my hand. His eyes are soft. Wet, almost. “Hold on, Lyra. Just a little longer. We’re about to meet our child.” I’m drenched in sweat. I smile at him anyway. Then the priestess walks in with a black clay cup, and the air fills with the bitter, sweet stink of poppy and something else, something older, something my mother once warned me about. I think — thank the gods, it’s the draught for the pain. Alexios lets go of my hand. Steps back. The priestess tips the cup to my lips. I’m so thirsty. I swallow without thinking. The taste is wrong the moment it hits my tongue. Iron and ash and burnt laurel. Hera’s herb. The binding draught. The one midwives whisper about — the one that closes a woman’s womb until they let it open again. I hear Alexios speak above me. “Make sure she drank it all. She doesn’t deliver until Selene does.” I stare at him. He doesn’t look at me. He glances at the water-clock dripping in the corner. “Selene’s at six fingers. Two more hours. Hold her.” I try to scream. I try to spit the draught back up. It’s already in my blood. The pain in my belly — savage, clawing — stops. Just like that. Like a hand closing around my womb and squeezing it shut. … They drag me down to the cellar beneath the temple. Cold stone. One oil lamp. Calista is waiting at the door, twirling a bronze blade between her fingers. “Don’t blame Alexios, Lyra.” “Selene is carrying Castor’s son. The first grandson of this house. The oracle named him heir.” “Even if you push yours out first? It’s still a girl. Still useless.” I clutch my belly. The contractions are fighting back against the draught now, slow and brutal, and the world goes black at the edges. “Get the healer,” I whisper. “Please. The baby — please —” Calista laughs. She walks in. Crouches in front of me. Taps the flat of the blade against my cheek. “Push? Push what?” “The draught holds you three more hours. Selene’s already on the couch upstairs.” “Be good. Wait. When her son is in the world, you can squeeze out whatever you like.” She stands. Looks at the temple guard at the door. “Watch her. If she screams, gag her.” The door slams. I’m on the floor. Blood soaks through my gown. They took every charm and talisman from me at the temple gate — said the gods would be jealous. That was a lie. Alexios didn’t want me calling for help. He didn’t want anyone to hear me die. I curl onto my side. Try to breathe. But all I can see is his face. Cold. Calculating. Like a man counting coins. Not a husband. Not the father of my child. … Three months ago, Castor — Alexios’s older brother — was thrown from a chariot at the games. Killed instantly. He left Selene three months pregnant. At the funeral pyre, old Lord Heliades clutched Selene’s hands like she was the only thing left of his bloodline. “Bring him into the world safe. The House of the Sun cannot end.” Him. Already a him. As if the oracle had whispered the answer into his ear at the moment Castor’s chariot shattered. I stood three steps behind him. My hand on my own belly. Mine was already showing — five months along, full and warm and kicking, and I thought — surely now. Surely the old man will turn to me. I knelt down. I touched his sleeve. “Father. Don’t grieve. We have a child coming too. Alexios and I , we’ll honor you all our days.” He looked at me. His eyes passed across my belly the way a man’s eyes pass across a stone in the road. Then he turned back to Selene. He never said a word to me. Not at the pyre. Not at the feast that followed. Not for three months after. I understand now. The moment Castor died, the moment the oracle named Selene’s son the heir , my daughter became an inconvenience. A threat. A girl-child born ahead of the chosen boy. A whisper of bad omen. A small, breathing reminder that the gods can change their minds. They were never going to let her draw breath. I just hadn’t been told yet. … “Ahhh —” Another wave. Worse than the last. The draught is fading. The baby is coming. I drag myself to the door. Pound on it with both hands. “Someone — please — the baby is coming — save my baby —” Silence on the other side. Nothing. I scream until my throat tears. Until I taste blood in my mouth. Finally the guard answers. Bored. Annoyed. “Quiet, woman. Calista said wait.” “But the baby — the baby —” “Then it dies. That’s fate. Should’ve been carrying a son.” I slide down the door. Shaking. Freezing. It isn’t fate. Someone in this temple wants my baby dead.

I don’t know how long I’ve been bleeding on this cellar floor. The blood keeps coming. My gown is soaked through. The stone beneath me is warm and sticky. My vision starts to slip — gray at the edges, then black. That’s when the door creaks open. It isn’t Calista. It isn’t the guard. It’s Theia — the old priestess of Asklepios who has served this family for forty years. The woman who pulled Castor screaming into the world. The woman who pressed an oil-blessed hand to my belly the day I was first married into this house and whispered, strong child, my lady. A blessing. She sees me on the floor. The blood. Her face goes white as bone. ” Lyra. Why in all the gods’ names are you down here?” “Alexios told me you were resting in the upper chamber —” I try to speak. Nothing comes out. I just point at my belly. The tears won’t stop. She drops to her knees beside me, faster than a woman of her age should be able to. Her hands are trembling. She lifts the hem of my gown only enough to see what she needs to see, then drops it again, and the breath she sucks in is sharp and ugly. ” Mother of the gods — the child is crowning. Your waters broke hours ago.” “You need the birthing altar. Now.” She tries to lift me. The moment I move, something hot rushes out between my legs. Blood. So much blood. Her hands shake. She turns to the doorway and shouts in a voice that cracks like old timber — ” Help! A woman is dying! Anyone — anyone —” The corridor is empty. Dead silent. This temple belongs to House Heliades. They built every column of it with their gold. And tonight, for Selene’s birth, they cleared everyone out. Every priestess, every midwife, every acolyte — all upstairs, on the third tier, waiting on her. Theia grabs the bronze warding-bell from the wall. She rings it. Once. Twice. The sound dies in the cold stone and goes nowhere. “I’ll carry you up myself, child. Stay with me. ” She is sixty years old. She gathers me into her thin arms anyway. I am dying. I know I’m dying. I can feel the baby pressing down. Trying to come. But she can’t. The draught is still in my blood, weakening but holding, and the contractions come and stop and come and stop. This is the worst kind of labor. The kind that kills both of us. “Theia —” I claw at her robe. My voice is barely a thread. “Save the baby. Please. Save her.” “Don’t speak like that. You’re both going to live. Both of you. I have not lost a mother in this house in forty years and I am not losing one tonight.” She stumbles up the stone stairs. Her old knees give twice. She catches herself against the wall and keeps going. She bursts onto the main floor. Runs toward the altar room. We reach the doors. We both stop dead. The altar room is wide open. It’s empty. The birthing stone — gone. The sacred basins — gone. The bronze instruments, the linens, the herbs, the priestesses’ tools, the incense braziers, every vial of every healing draught — gone. Just an empty room. Bare flagstones. Four walls. Theia doesn’t move. She stands there holding me, and a sound comes out of her throat — a thin, choking noise, like someone has her by the neck. “This — this can’t be —” “I blessed these tools at sundown. They were here.” Footsteps echo down the corridor. Calista walks toward us, two terrified servant girls trailing behind her. She sees us. Her eyebrow lifts. “Theia. What are you doing down here?” “Selene is on the third tier. Why aren’t you with her?” Theia points at the empty altar room. Her voice cracks. ” Where are the tools? Where are the herbs? Where is everything?” Calista shrugs like a child caught stealing figs. “They’re upstairs.” “Selene is having a hard birth. She needs the best of everything. What if something went wrong? You think a common altar would be enough for the heir of this house?” Her eyes drift to me. She smiles. “Oh — Lyra. Are you having yours now?” “You’ll have to wait. Selene isn’t finished yet.” “Be patient.” I look at her painted face. The careful curls. The gold pinned in her hair. And I remember. Six months ago. Walking through the agora arm in arm with her, laughing, while she leaned against my shoulder and said — “You’re better to me than any blood sister, Lyra. I love you more than my own.” I bought her a Phoenician necklace that day. Real lapis. The kind a princess would wear. Now I’m on a temple floor, bleeding to death, and she’s smiling down at me like I’m an animal at slaughter. What a joke.

Theia tears through the storage chamber like a woman possessed, ripping open chests, throwing aside linens. The shelves are bare. No bronze clamps. No clean cloths. Not even a strip of boiled linen. “The herbs! The bloodroot! The womb-tonic!” A young temple girl whispers from the corner. “They were carried up. To the third tier.” “Lord Alexios’s order. Everything goes to Selene first.” Theia slams her thin fist into the wood. The shelf splits. Her knuckles split with it. She turns to me. Her eyes are red and her lips will not stop shaking. “Forgive me, child. Forgive me —” “There is nothing left. Nothing.” Calista glides over. Pats her shoulder like she’s comforting a senile aunt. “Don’t fret, Theia.” “She hasn’t delivered yet. Once Selene is finished, we’ll bring everything back down.” Her eyes drift to my belly. “And if the babe comes out anyway? She’s a girl. One less mouth. The House of the Sun won’t miss her.” Theia can’t take it anymore. “Calista — this is murder. I have served this house for forty years. I pulled you into the world with these hands. And now you would let your own kin bleed out on a stone floor for a prophecy?” “Murder?” Calista laughs, sharp and bright. “Mind your tongue, old woman.” “Women die in childbed. They always have. The temples are full of their names.” “And this is the business of our house. Our blood. You serve us. You do not decide for us.” She waves to the temple guards. “Take her to her cell. She’s overwrought. Bar the door.” “I’ll see to Lyra myself.” Two guards seize Theia under her thin arms. She thrashes against them with a strength that shouldn’t belong in a body her age. “Lyra! Untie every knot on you! Your sash, your hair, every braid — tear them loose! Eileithyia hears a bound woman last! Call her name! Call her name until your throat bleeds!” “Don’t give up! The child can still live! Lyra —!” Her voice fades down the corridor. Calista shuts the door. Turns to me. Slow. Calm. She pulls a small bronze hand-mirror from the folds of her gown. It is a speaking-glass — Hecate’s craft, blessed by her lesser priestesses. Nobles use them to whisper across distances. Calista taps the rim three times and breathes Alexios’s name into the metal. The polished bronze ripples. His face surfaces in it like a reflection rising in still water. “Brother. Lyra is starting to push. Want to watch?” The image of Alexios shimmers — he’s standing outside Selene’s birthing chamber, women rushing past him in the background. “Calista. Stop playing.” “Selene isn’t well. The midwives say the child’s heartbeat is slowing.” Calista turns the mirror toward me. “Look at her, brother. So much blood. Maybe she’ll go before Selene does.” Alexios glances at me. Just once. Then he looks away. “Make her wait. The healers will come down once Selene delivers.” “Lyra. Be patient. I can’t leave.” The image dissolves. Bronze again. Calista shrugs. Slips the mirror back into her sash. “You heard him?” “In my brother’s heart, Selene comes first.” “You? You’re a womb. Nothing more.” “And a womb that fails its purpose gets thrown away.” I close my eyes. I don’t want to look at her face anymore. My hand slides behind me. Finds the inner seam of my gown. Beneath the embroidery, sewn into the lining, is something small. Hard. Cold. A black iron ring. My father slipped it into my hand the night before my wedding. He pressed his forehead to mine and whispered — “Lyra. The House of the Sun runs deeper than you think. If anything goes wrong — anything at all — break this ring. Break it, and we will come.” I laughed at him then. “Father, Alexios is good to me. His family treats me like a daughter of their own.” What a fool I was. What a sweet, smiling fool. My fingers find the ring. Pull it free of the threads. I close my fist around it. And I squeeze. The iron cracks against my palm. I feel it splinter — a sharp, clean snap, no louder than a twig breaking. But somewhere far below the earth, in a hall lit by black flame, my father has just lifted his head. He has felt it. Father said — once you break that ring, we will be there before the sun moves a finger’s width across the sky. Half an hour. Maybe less. But half an hour… Can my baby wait half an hour?

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I watched the executioner’s blade slit my mate’s throat once. So when fate gave me a second chance, I had to walk away before he could love me again. And now the Mating Choosing was about to begin. Again. . . . Inside the Territory’s great hall, young females buzzed with excited chatter, their voices rising like birds at dawn. I stood among them, but my mind was somewhere else. Somewhere dark. And cold. Sera leaned close. Her hand touched my arm, trembling slightly. “Elara, look—is my hair still in place?” I looked at her. Really looked at her. *She’s alive.* And then I understood. I had come back. In my past life, I had thought her question was just about vanity. About honor. An Alpha’s daughter couldn’t afford to look anything less than perfect. I never once imagined what was really hiding behind that nervous smile. A girl’s quiet hope that *he* would choose *her.* The ache hit me so hard I nearly choked on it. “You’re the most beautiful female here, Sera,” I said softly. “You’ll become the wife of the Elder Orin’s grandson. I’m sure of it.” She swatted my arm, cheeks flushing. “Don’t tease me!” I reached up and unclasped the silver claw clasp from my hair—the only thing I had ever truly owned. The only treasure from my nameless orphan days. I pinned it carefully into her pale gold hair. Sera blinked at me, confused. “What are you doing? Isn’t this the one thing you’d never let me touch?” I smiled. *Yes. The only thing.* But I owed them everything. Ten years of food, shelter, love. [Flashback] Ten dry seasons ago, Alpha Aldric of the Leopard Clan found me half-dead beneath a tree outside the Family Territory. I was a snow leopard cub far from any mountain I belonged to—white where I should have been gold, gray where I should have been spotted. A nameless stray. The Leopardis took me in anyway. They raised me beside their daughter, Sera, fed me, taught me, and never once made me feel unwanted. Then Alpha Orin of the Lion Clan came to choose a mate for his grandson, Silas Kane. Out of every daughter in the Enclave, Silas chose me. Three suns later, Sera was found dead beyond the territory walls. No one blamed me. Not then. I married Silas. I thought I had finally found a place to belong. Until the morning the healers confirmed I was carrying his cub. My brother – Darius dragged Silas before the High Command Tribunal on charges of treason. I watched the Enforcers’ silver blade open my mate’s throat. He said I had stolen Sera’s future. That my happiness had cost our family everything. So I climbed to the edge of the Gorge and let myself fall. But now—now I was back. I pressed my hands to my face, forcing the memories down. I was the stray they took in. I was never supposed to have more than what they gave me. That kind of debt doesn’t just disappear. …… “It suits you,” I said. “They say Elder Orin’s grandson is honorable. And handsome. A perfect match for our Sera.” Her face went pink and she shoved at my shoulder. The sound was light and bright. Then the doors at the far end of the hall began to open. The crowd hushed. Elder Orin stepped in first. Broad-shouldered. Silver-maned. His lion’s presence filled the room like a storm rolling in off the plains. Behind him walked a younger male. Taller than the rest. Golden mane cropped short. Amber eyes scanning the crowd like none of them mattered. Silas Kane. My chest seized. I caught the carved post beside me before my knees folded. *In my past life, he had been dragged before the executioner’s blade. His throat slashed open on false charges. His blood soaking the dry earth while I screamed from inside my swollen belly.* I knew that face. I knew the warmth that once lived behind those cold eyes. And I knew what it cost to love him. “Elara? What’s wrong?” Sera’s voice was suddenly sharp with worry. “You’ve gone the color of bone. Let me take you to the healer.” “No.” I pulled my arm from her grip. “It’s nothing. I just need air. If Father and Mother find out we both skipped the Choosing, they’ll skin us.” She hesitated, then pinched my cheek. “Don’t be long.” I turned and pushed through the crowd, toward the back gate. Behind me, the murmurs shifted. Excitement rippled through the hall like wind through tall grass. *He’s here. The lion prince is here.* I couldn’t help myself. I looked back. Silas stood in the center of the room, scanning the females with an expression of barely hidden boredom. But his gaze had landed on something. On someone. On a bright silver claw clasp gleaming in Sera’s pale gold hair. He walked forward. Step by step. Past the dressed-up daughters of warriors and chieftains. Past the perfumed nobles who smiled and preened. He stopped directly in front of my sister. “You,” he said, loud enough for the whole hall to hear. “I choose you.” I closed the door behind me. And pressed my hand hard against my chest. It still hurt. Gods, it still hurt. But I had seen the blush on Sera’s face. The shy, surprised joy in her eyes. *She’s alive. He’s alive. That’s enough. That’s the only ending that matters.* I turned to walk back inside—and ran straight into someone. Darius. His eyes were wrong. So wild. He stared down at me like I was something rotten he’d just stepped on. “I was still too late,” he whispered. “And you already did it, didn’t you.”

I stared at my brother’s face and felt the ground tilt beneath me. But not here. Not yet. Not in this life. “What are you talking about?” I kept my voice light. “Elder Orin’s grandson chose Sera. They’re inside celebrating right now. You should go in. Be happy for her.” I gestured back toward the hall. He froze. For a long second I watched him try to read my face, looking for the lie. Then, without another word, he shoved past me and disappeared into the hall. The cold wind hit me the moment I was alone. I started trembling. Not from the chill—but from the weight of everything I’d just walked away from. . . . The next few days passed like a dream I wasn’t fully in. Mother and Father bustled around Sera. Measuring her for ceremony robes. Negotiating bonding gifts with Elder Orin’s emissaries. The whole Territory talked of nothing but the upcoming union. My elder sister, Sera, would become the mate of a lion prince. Everyone smiled. Except Darius. He watched me constantly. Whenever I crossed the courtyard, his eyes followed. Like he expected me to strike at any moment. One evening, Mother called me into her quarters. She took my hands in hers—warm and calloused. “Once Sera’s settled into the Kane household, your father and I will find you a match too. Don’t you worry. We won’t pick anyone less than what your sister is getting.” She squeezed my fingers and sighed. “I just worry about that girl. She’s so headstrong. What if she wears poor Silas out with her wildfire temper?” Her words hit me like a fist to the ribs. I smiled anyway. “I don’t want to marry, Mother. I’ll stay here. Take care of you and Father for the rest of my days.” The words had barely left my mouth when a cold laugh cut through the doorway. “Bonding ceremony’s days away. Everything is set.” Darius leaned against the frame, arms crossed. “Or are you still dreaming about the male who was never meant for you?” Mother’s face darkened. “Darius! Don’t speak to your sister like that.” He pushed off the door and walked inside, his golden eyes locked on me. “I know exactly what you’re doing, Elara. And it’s not happening. Tomorrow I’m finding you a male. Any male. A denscavenger, if that’s what it takes.” His voice dropped. “You’ll bond with whoever I pick. And you’ll stay away from Sera’s mate.” I stared at him. The hatred in his voice was real. Raw. It wasn’t suspicion born of nothing—it was the frantic terror of someone who had seen the future and was trying to claw it into a different shape. He had no way of knowing I had already made the same choice. Sera appeared behind him, a bowl of fruit in her hands. She shoved it into my arms and glared at her brother. “Stop being so mean! Elara’s done nothing wrong. And she’s still young—there’s no rush.” She picked up a slice of something sweet and held it to my lips. “Here. Try this. It’s really good.” Darius knocked the bowl from my hands. Fruit scattered across the floor. “You don’t know what’s in her head, Sera.” His voice was a snarl. “What happens when she takes your mate? What then? You gonna smile and wave?” Even Mother looked horrified at that. Sera burst out laughing. She linked her arm through mine and leaned her head on my shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous, brother. If it weren’t for Elara’s silver clasp, Silas might have walked right out of the Choosing. He even asked me where I got it. He said it was… special. That it suited me.” Her cheeks went pink as she said it. Darius went still. Then he turned and walked out without another word. . . . The next morning, Silas came to the Territory bearing gifts. I hadn’t expected it. None of us had. I’d been in the back garden, planting moonflowers along the border wall the way Mother had asked. My hands were caked with soil up to my wrists, my hair half-falling out of its tie. I heard footsteps. Too heavy for a leopard. I looked up. Silas stood over me, his amber eyes fixed on my face. For a long, suspended second, neither of us moved. “You,” he said slowly. “I didn’t see you at the Choosing. Who are you?”

I opened my mouth to answer— Behind me, footsteps slammed across the courtyard. And Darius was there, shoving himself between us like a shield. “She’s the nameless orphan we took in ten years ago.” His voice was tight. Clipped. “Nothing important. Forgive her appearance—she doesn’t know how to greet guests properly. Pay her no mind.” Then he turned and snapped over his shoulder. “Go wash yourself. Now. Don’t you dare shame this family.” I bowed my head and walked away. As I passed Silas, I heard him whisper to himself—so soft I almost missed it. “An orphan? That doesn’t…” There was confusion in his voice. Something deeper than idle curiosity. I didn’t stop. . . . Behind me, I heard Sera rush out to greet him. She pulled Silas aside, her shoulders curled the way they always were when she was nervous. Speaking quickly. Looking up at him through her lashes. I couldn’t hear what they said. But after a few moments, whatever Silas told her made her face light up. The tension melted from her shoulders. She laughed, soft and bright, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Beside me, Darius let out a long, shaking breath. The hard line of his jaw finally eased. He didn’t look at me when he spoke. “I was out of line yesterday. I’m sorry.” I blinked. I hadn’t expected that. He kept his eyes fixed on the two of them in the courtyard. “You see how happy she is?” He nodded toward Sera, who was laughing, showing Silas her new ceremonial beads. “They’re good together, Elara. So I’m asking you—begging you—don’t come between them. Please.” And just like that, I understood everything. The reason for his rage that first night. The way he’d watched me. The hatred in his eyes that hadn’t yet had time to grow. Darius had come back too. He remembered everything. Every ugly thing he had done. And now he was trying, in his broken way, to undo it by keeping me away. I drew in a slow breath. “You don’t have to beg, brother,” I said quietly. “I only want to repay Mother and Father’s kindness. I want Sera to be happy.” His shoulders sagged. “Good. That’s good.” He swallowed. “Then we can all… we can all have the ending we deserve.” I nodded, and turned, and walked back to my room. . . . Outside, I could hear the courtyard come alive again. Sera’s laugh, bright and unburdened. Silas’s low voice, steady and warm. The clink of porcelain as Mother poured tea for the guests. I lay down on my bed and pulled the cover over my shoulders. *Let it go, Elara. They’re alive. All of them. That’s the only ending that matters.* I listened to my sister laugh until the sound dissolved into something soft and far away, and somewhere in there, I drifted off. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep. The world was still dark when my door slammed open hard enough to crack against the wall. Darius stood in the doorway. Eyes burning red. Chest heaving like he’d run the length of the Territory to get here. He crossed the room in two strides and yanked me up by the front of my clothes. The slap landed before I’d even fully opened my eyes. My head snapped sideways. My ear rang. “You’re a liar.” His voice was shaking. “I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t let it go.” I couldn’t breathe. My cheek was on fire. His grip tightened. “Where is she?” he snarled. “Where did you take Sera?”

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