تسجيل الدخولFive years ago, Elara Veyne drowned while the man she loved stood and watched. The pack called her a traitor. Said she poisoned the heir. Then they let the water take her. Now she's alive again, in someone else's body, with someone else's name. Nobody remembers her — except Kael Draven, the Alpha who's spent five years hunting the people who framed her, and hasn't forgiven himself since. He doesn't know the quiet Omega girl in his chambers is the woman he watched die. But his wolf knows, and it won't leave her alone. Elara wants revenge. But the law forbids her from speaking her real name for a year and a day, or she loses her soul forever. So she waits, plays the frightened girl everyone believes she is, and hunts the truth from the inside — while Kael's guilt and the way he looks at her start pulling her toward something she never expected to feel again. To learn what really happened, she has to walk into the Moonless Forest, where the truth costs her pieces of her own memory. What she finds there proves Kael never chose to let her die — and reveals the real enemy still hiding in plain sight. She chooses him. Not because the law demands it. Because, for the first time, she wants to.
عرض المزيدThe court gathers three days after they find the body. I am not supposed to be there.Omegas do not stand in the throne room while the Council speaks. Even Omegas who sleep in a cot next to the Alpha's chambers. But Kael tells me to bring his correspondence in personally that morning. By the time I realize what I have walked into, it is too late to leave without drawing eyes.So I stand near the wall. Correspondence pressed to my chest like a shield. I watch.The Elders sit in a half-circle of old stone chairs. Five of them. Gray and grim and ancient in the way that makes you forget they were ever young. Kael sits at the center on a chair that is not quite a throne but wants to be one. Standing in front of all of them, elegant as a knife, is a woman I have never seen before.White-blonde hair. Pale green eyes, cold enough to make the room feel colder just looking at them. She moves like she has never once worried about mud on her shoes, even standing on stone."Lady Seraphine," Elder
The room they give me is small, plain, and close enough to his that I can hear him breathing through the wall at night.I do not sleep much that first week. I lie on the narrow cot shoved into the corner of an antechamber off his own room. They could not decide if I am a servant or a prisoner, so they settled on both. I listen to him pace on the other side of the stone.Back and forth. Back and forth. Some nights it does not stop until near dawn."Does he ever sleep?" I ask Nyra one morning. She comes to bring me a change of clothes because apparently that is my life now—being dressed like a doll for a man who thinks I am dead."Not much," she says. "Not since—" She stops herself. Chews her lip."Since what?""Nothing. Just—not much." She will not meet my eyes when she says it.I let it go. I already know the answer. Not since a woman named Elara drowned in the Silver Vein. I do not need Nyra to finish that sentence. I have been finishing it myself for five years.---I learn Kael in
Three weeks pass, and I learn how to disappear.I learn the halls that guards do not watch. I learn which kitchen mistress does not count the bread, and which one counts twice. I learn to keep my eyes down and my voice small, because Rue's body flinches at loud noise and I have decided that is useful now. Better they think I am weak than wonder what I really am.I also learn, slowly, in pieces, what happened to Elara Veyne.I hear it first from an old wolf scrubbing pots beside me, talking to no one in particular the way old women do. "Poisoned the heir, she did," the woman mutters, not even looking at me. "Sweet-faced little thing, too. You would never have guessed."My hands go still in the wash water."Who?" I ask, careful to sound bored."Before your time, girl. Elara Veyne. Five years back. Council caught her red-handed—poison in the heir's cup, plain as day. Alpha had no choice." She shakes her head. "Shame. Pretty girl."I did not poison anyone, I want to scream. I never touche
Water is the last thing I remember.Cold water, closing over my head, pulling me down while his face got smaller above the surface. His silver eyes wide. His hand reaching. His mouth moving, but I could not hear the words.Then nothing.Now there is stone under my back, hard and cold. Torchlight flickers above me. My chest hurts like I have been breathing wrong for a very long time.I open my eyes.The ceiling is wrong. Low, gray, cracked. Not the ceiling I remember. Not the sky I remember either—the last sky I saw was full of water, silver bubbles rising past my face while my lungs screamed.I sit up too fast. My head spins. My hands hit the floor to catch myself, and I stare at them.They are not my hands.The fingers are thinner. The nails are bitten down. There is a small white scar across one knuckle I do not remember getting."Whose hands are these," I whisper.Nobody answers. I am alone in a narrow stone room that smells like straw and tallow candles. A cot sits against one wal


















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