Chapter 7

At Marcus's order, the guards rushed me immediately and clasped silver chains around my wrists to suppress my shift.

Two guards dragged me into the silver dungeon. My knees hit the stone floor hard.

Marcus stood in the doorway, his face iron. "Chain her. Silver whip. Ten lashes."

A guard lifted a silver whip from the wall. In the dim light, it gleamed with a cold, killing edge. I fought with everything I had. "Marcus! What the hell is wrong with you?! I'm your daughter!"

Two guards pinned my shoulders. I was forced face-down onto the floor, my back exposed.

When the first lash came, I clenched my jaw tight. The silver burned through skin and went straight to bone.

My consciousness began to blur. My mind, without my permission, drifted to a rainy night in a cemetery.

It was the anniversary of my mother's death. I'd been sitting in the rain at her grave, not wanting to go home.

Kieran had found me. He draped his jacket over my shoulders.

"Don't sit in the rain. You'll get sick."

Then another night — a pack council meeting where he stepped between me and a group of elders who were questioning my presence.

"Seraphina is an Alpha's daughter. She has the right to sit in on any council decision." His voice was cold and certain, and every challenge fell silent.

I had believed, back then, that his care was something real. That I was different to him.

Looking back now, I had simply been fooling myself.

I started to laugh, quietly.

Vivian blinked. "What are you laughing at?"

I raised my head. Blood at the corner of my mouth. "I'm laughing at the two of you. A mother and daughter who have spent their whole lives picking up someone else's scraps."

Vivian's face twisted. "What did you just say?!" She crossed the room and drove her foot into my ribs.

A sharp crack. Something broke.

Blood flooded my throat. I opened my mouth and coughed it out — a mouthful, then darkness.

When I came to, I was in my own room. My body was agony, every part of me in shreds.

Margaret was sitting at the bedside, her eyes red and swollen. "You're awake. I put moonlight herb on you — I had someone smuggle it from the pack healer. But silver wounds are so hard to close..."

Margaret had once nearly died on the border. My mother had brought her home.

After my mother died, Margaret stayed voluntarily and served in the pack house to look after me.

"Please." Margaret was crying. "Go apologize to the Alpha. If you just show a little humility, he'll soften. He's your father, in the end."

I laughed, and the movement tore at my wounds. Another wave of pain. "Show him humility, and I'll end up worse than my mother."

Margaret wept harder.

I forced my arm out against the pain, reached under the pillow, and pulled out a bank card. I pressed it into her hands. "I'm leaving. I won't be coming back. This is enough for the rest of your life — get out of Ashford Pack."

Margaret's hands were trembling around the card, tears streaming.

I suddenly thought of the venison soup she used to make when I was small. My voice came out softer than I meant it to. "Margaret. I want some of your venison soup."

She stopped. Then she wiped her eyes and stood up. "I'll go make it right now."

For the next few days, I lay in my room recovering.

Marcus never came. Neither did Vivian. Neither did Melody.

It was as if I had already ceased to exist.

I pushed through the pain and began to pack.

Clothes. Documents.

I opened the drawer at the very back of my wardrobe.

Inside were everything Kieran had ever given me.

The moonstone necklace. A custom-made silver wolf sculpture. And one of the Frost Pack family crests.

He'd been drinking the night he pinned the crest to my collar. Said it would keep other male wolves from getting too close.

My heart had raced. I thought it was a courtship signal.

Now I could see it for what it was — a careless joke.

Together, those things were worth nearly fifty million dollars.

Part of me wanted to throw it all away.

But then I thought: what a waste. Better to let those things do some good.

I called the pack alliance's charity auction house and told them I had items to donate.

That evening, I hired a car and hauled several large boxes to the alliance's charity hall.

The staff member checking the items looked up with wide eyes when he saw what was inside. "Miss Ashford, these things..."

"Auction everything." I cut him off. "Every cent goes to the orphanages in neutral territory."

He nodded and packed the items away with careful hands.

I turned to leave. Made it to the door.

And stopped.

There they were.

Kieran and Melody, walking in hand in hand.

Kieran's gaze caught the boxes of items near me. Something shifted in his eyes — a flicker of displeasure, quickly suppressed.

His eyes swept over me, paused for a moment on my pale face, then moved away with indifference. Like I was a stranger.

Melody spotted me too.

She tightened her grip on Kieran's arm. At an angle he couldn't see, she gave me a slow, triumphant smile — then rose on her toes and murmured something in his ear.

Kieran tilted his head down. He smiled, indulgent. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

That kind of kiss. Tender. Reverent. A kiss that made a promise.

Nothing like the possession he'd shown me in bed.

My heart seized. I couldn't breathe.

Just then, a drunk rogue wolf swayed toward me. "Hey, beautiful—"

He reached for my waist. The smell of liquor hit me like a wall.

I stepped aside.

He crowded in again. "Don't run—"

His mouth was moving toward my face.

I was about to slap him when Kieran appeared in front of me in an instant.