LOGINSage’s POVThe morning of the celebration arrived bright and clear, sunlight streaming through my bedroom window as I woke earlier than necessary, nervous energy already buzzing through my chest despite hours still remaining before evening festivities would begin.My mother appeared at my door shortly after breakfast, carrying the green dress carefully draped over her arm, her expression carrying the same suspicious excitement she had displayed the night before. “I thought we could get ready together,” she said. “Like we should have done for so many occasions over these past years.”The sentiment brought a lump to my throat, understanding the deeper meaning behind her words, all the birthdays and celebrations we had missed properly sharing together while grief and blame kept us distant from each other. “I would like that,” I said softly.We spent the afternoon together, my mother helping style my hair, both of us laughing over shared memories, some happy, some bittersweet but all genu
Sage’s POV The weeks following the tribunal settled into something I hadn’t experienced in longer than I could properly remember, actual routine. I returned to my old shifts at the clinic, working under Redhollow’s newly appointed head healer, a steady, older wolf named Petra who had transferred from a neighboring pack territory to help stabilize things after Jasmine’s departure.“You have good hands for this work,” Petra told me one afternoon, watching me carefully clean and dress a young pup’s scraped knee. “Ever considered formal training? Becoming a healer yourself?”The question caught me off guard, something I had never seriously considered given how much of my adult life had been consumed by grief and blame rather than genuine thought about my own future. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve mostly just helped where I could, restocking supplies, basic care. I’ve never thought about it as something more permanent.”“Think about it,” Petra said simply. “This pack needs steady hands
Sage’s POVThe days following the formal challenge passed in a strange, unfamiliar rhythm, one where I woke each morning without an immediate crisis demanding my attention, without a threatening message waiting on my phone, without some fresh betrayal unraveling everything I thought I understood.It felt almost disorienting, this quiet.My father moved out of the house nearly a week after Diane’s defeat, not permanently, but temporarily, giving my mother the space she had asked for while she decided what she wanted to do with their marriage. He rented a small place near the pack’s northern edge, close enough that I could visit him easily, though our conversations remained careful, still tender with unresolved hurt.“I don’t expect you to forgive me quickly,” he told me one afternoon, as we sat on the narrow porch of his temporary home, watching pack children play in the field beyond. “I don’t even know if I’ve fully forgiven myself yet.”“I’m trying,” I said honestly. “It’s hard, know
Sage’s POVThe moment the elder’s words faded, Diane moved.She was faster than her calm exterior suggested, closing the distance between herself and Ethan in a blur of motion that sent gasps rippling through the watching crowd. Ethan barely managed to sidestep her first strike, twisting away just in time to avoid what would have been a devastating blow to his ribs.I stood pressed against the crowd’s edge, my heart hammering so violently I could barely breathe, watching as Ethan and his own mother circled each other within the marked boundaries of the challenge circle, both of them assessing, calculating, searching for any opening.“She trained him,” Marcus said quietly beside me, his eyes never leaving the fight. “Years ago, before his father died. She knows every technique he’s likely to use.”The realization sent fresh terror through me. Diane wasn’t simply older and presumably weaker than her son. She had shaped his fighting style from childhood, understood his instincts and tend
Sage’s POVThe photograph blurred in front of my eyes, my hands shaking so violently I nearly dropped the phone. My mother, pale and frightened, standing in our own kitchen with two strangers looming behind her.Ethan grabbed the phone gently from my hands, his jaw tightening as he studied the image. “This proves nothing except that she’s willing to terrify an innocent woman to get what she wants,” he said, though his voice carried none of its usual steadiness.“It proves she has her,” I said, my voice cracking. “It proves this is real.”Diane watched us from across the hall, her expression carrying no urgency at all, as though she had all the time in the world to let this threat sink in fully before demanding an answer. “The choice is simple, Ethan. Step down and this ends peacefully. Refuse and I can’t promise what my associates might do while waiting for further instructions.”Marcus pushed closer, keeping his voice low. “I can get a team moving toward Sage’s parents’ house right n
Sage’s POVThe hall filled with frightened murmurs as more figures rose from their seats, nearly a dozen pack members now standing scattered throughout the crowd, their faces set with the same unsettling calm Diane wore so easily. I recognized several of them immediately, an elderly healer who had treated me as a child, a young father who ran the pack’s small general store, a woman who taught the youngest pups their first lessons in pack history.None of them looked like villains. That was the most terrifying part.“You see,” Diane said, her voice carrying easily across the stunned silence, “loyalty isn’t always built through fear or manipulation, Ethan. Sometimes it’s built through genuine conviction, through wolves who’ve watched this pack stagnate under leadership too sentimental to make necessary changes.”“Get away from them,” Ethan said quietly to me, positioning himself between me and the nearest of Diane’s supporters, though his eyes never left his mother’s face. “This ends no







