Chapter 6

Before the image fully formed, Caleb's voice cut through the air, cold enough to freeze blood.

"It was my coming-of-age ceremony."

He stood at the edge of the altar, looking down at me.

Silver flames crawled across my skin, tearing through my wolf spirit. Pain ripped through me again and again, but I bit down hard on my lip, refusing to scream.

"At my ceremony," Caleb said again, "you ruined Lucia's dress."

The memory sharpened into focus.

Caleb's coming-of-age.

He had just turned 18 and had officially become a warrior. My father was presenting him with his ceremonial sword.

Lucia wore a pale silver gown trimmed with shimmering shell pieces that caught the light like moon glow. My father had hired the best tailor in town to make it. It took three months of work.

And there I was in the corner, wearing an old gray dress.

It had been given to me by a fallen warrior's widow who felt sorry for me.

"Look at her," someone whispered. "Like a stray that wandered inside."

"Ms. Lucia is even bringing her juice."

"What a waste of her kindness."

In the memory, Lucia walked through the crowd carrying two glasses of berry juice.

"Here you go."

She offered one to me.

I didn't take it.

"I'm not thirsty. Thanks."

"Today's important for Caleb," she said gently. "We should at least celebrate him."

After a moment, I accepted the glass.

"Thank you."

Lucia smiled and raised her own drink. "To our future warrior."

She tilted her head back and took a sip.

I lifted mine as well, but I barely let it touch my lips.

Then suddenly, Lucia stumbled.

The glass slipped from her hand. Red berry juice splashed across her chest.

Her silver dress instantly stained dark red.

"Ah!" Lucia cried out.

The next second, she staggered backward into a long table, knocking over a candle stand.

Flames spread across the tablecloth. Chaos erupted instantly.

In the middle of it all, my glass was still in my hand, untouched.

But no one noticed.

Every eye was focused on Lucia.

"My dress!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Dad gave me this dress..."

My father hurried over.

"What happened?"

"Dad!"

Lucia threw herself into his arms, then looked at me through tear-filled eyes.

"Lyla, why did you push me?"

I froze. "I didn't!"

Lucia sniffed weakly. "If you hated seeing me wear this dress, if you hated Dad giving me something so nice, I would've taken it off and given it to you. Why push me?"

"I didn't push you."

The entire pack turned to look at me. I felt lost under their stares.

My father looked at me, his expression darkening.

"Lyla."

"I really didn't." I gripped the glass so tightly that my knuckles turned white. "Ask the pack members nearby. They must've—"

"I saw it."

Caleb's voice cut through everything.

He stepped forward from the crowd, his face tight with anger. His proudest day had just been ruined.

Caleb stared straight at me. "I saw you push Lucia."

The words hit like a physical blow.

"What?"

"I was standing on the other side of the pillar," Caleb said, pointing toward the hall. "I had a clear view."

"You're lying." My voice shook. "You weren't there. You were accepting congratulations from the elders. I saw you!"

"So now you're saying Caleb framed you, too?" My father's voice rose sharply.

"He's lying!" I practically shouted. "Why would I push her? I didn't even want to stand near her!"

Lucia sobbed softly. "Lyla, if you wanted something, I would've given it to you. I would give you everything. But you shouldn't have ruined Caleb's ceremony..."

She looked as if she could barely stand. My father held her tightly in his arms.