Chapter 2

Chapter 2 — The Truth I Carry

Rhea's pov

"Rhea, sweetheart, can you help me with dinner?"

Mom's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I'm sitting at the kitchen table, staring at my homework without actually reading it. I've been on the same page for twenty minutes.

"Yeah." I close the book and stand up. My legs feel heavy. Everything feels heavy today.

Mom glances at me while chopping vegetables. Her hands pause. "Bad day?"

I shrug. "Just tired."

She doesn't push. She never does. Instead, she hands me a knife and points to the potatoes. We work in silence for a while. The rhythm is calming. Peel. Chop. Drop into the pot. Repeat.

"Britney again?" she asks quietly.

My hands still. "How did you—"

"Your jeans." She nods toward my knees. "You came home with blood on them."

I look down. I'd forgotten about the scrapes. They don't hurt anymore, but the denim is stained dark in two small spots.

"She tripped me," I say. "It's fine."

"It's not fine." Mom sets down her knife. Her jaw is tight. "Rica, we need to talk to the Alpha about this. She can't keep—"

"Please don't." The words come out sharper than I mean them to. I soften my voice. "It'll just make it worse. You know it will."

Mom's shoulders drop. She knows I'm right. Going to the Alpha won't help. It'll just paint a bigger target on my back.

Dad walks in before she can argue. He's still in his training gear, shirt damp with sweat. He smiles when he sees us.

"My two favorite girls," he says. He kisses Mom's cheek, then ruffles my hair. "How was school?"

"Fine," I lie.

He raises an eyebrow. He doesn't believe me either.

We eat dinner together like we always do. Dad talks about patrol. Mom mentions her shift at the pack clinic. I push food around my plate and pretend to listen. My mind is somewhere else. Somewhere it shouldn't be.

I'm thinking about pine and rain. About a voice that makes my chest ache. About hands that will never hold mine.

"Rhea."

I blink. Dad is watching me.

"Sorry. What?"

"I asked if you're entering the tournament."

My stomach twists. "I don't know."

"You should." He leans back in his chair. "You're good enough. Better than most of the wolves your age."

"She's better than most wolves period," Mom adds. Pride colors her voice.

I stare at my plate. They've been training me since I was ten. Secret sessions in the woods where no one could see. Teaching me to fight, to move, to survive. They made me strong because they knew I'd need to be.

"What if someone asks questions?" I say quietly. "What if they wonder how I got so good when I'm not supposed to have a wolf?"

Dad and Mom exchange a look. The kind of look that means they're having a whole conversation without words.

"Let them wonder," Dad says finally. "You've spent your whole life hiding. Maybe it's time to stop."

I don't answer. Because hiding isn't a choice. It's survival.

After dinner, I help Mom with the dishes. Dad disappears into his office. The house settles into its evening quiet.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, hands deep in soapy water.

"Always."

"Do you ever wish..." I pause, trying to find the right words. "Do you ever wish you hadn't taken me in?"

The plate in Mom's hand clatters against the counter. She turns to face me, eyes wide.

"What? Rhea, no. Never."

"I just mean—your life would be easier. Without me. Without all the secrecy and the lying and—"

"Stop." She grips my shoulders. Her hands are wet but I don't care. "Listen to me. You are the best thing that ever happened to us. Do you understand? The best thing."

My throat gets tight. "But I'm not really yours. My real parents—"

"Your real parents loved you enough to save you." Her voice cracks. "Lexi asked me to take you. To protect you. To raise you as my own. And I have never, not for one second, regretted that."

Tears blur my vision. I blink them back.

"She knew, didn't she?" I whisper. "My biological mom. She knew the pack was going to be destroyed."

Mom's face goes pale. She releases my shoulders and turns back to the sink.

"We don't know what she knew," she says carefully. "We only know what she asked me to do."

I've heard the story a hundred times, but it never gets easier. How Mom found me at the border. How I was hurt and scared and had no memories of anything before. How she and Dad chose to keep me even though it meant lying to the entire pack about where I came from.

"Do you think they're really dead?" I ask. "My biological parents?"

"Yes." Mom's voice is soft. Sad. "The Howlers Pack was wiped out completely. No survivors."

"Except me."

"Except you."

I finish the dishes in silence. My chest feels hollow. I've never met my biological parents. I don't remember them. But sometimes I wonder what they were like. If they had my eyes. If they would be proud of who I've become.

That night, I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Sleep won't come. My mind is too loud.

I think about the day Ryker arrived. Four months ago. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.

I'd been walking through the pack grounds when I heard the engines. Three black SUVs rolling up the main road. Everyone stopped to watch. Royalty doesn't visit small packs like ours often.

The door of the middle SUV opened. He stepped out.

And I smelled him.

Pine. Rain. Earth after a storm. The scent hit me so hard I actually stumbled. Sable went completely still. Not scared. Just... certain.

Mate, she whispered.

I stood there frozen while he scanned the crowd. His eyes passed right over me. No recognition. No pause. Nothing.

Because he couldn't smell me back.

That's when I understood. The bond was there. Real. Undeniable. But it was one-sided. He would never know unless I told him. And how do you tell a prince—a Lycan prince—that you're his mate when you have no proof?

So I didn't tell him. I watched him from a distance. I learned his schedule. I made sure I was never in the same place as him for too long.

And then Lila showed up.

She came a week after he did. Tall. Beautiful. Confident. She walked into the pack house like she owned it. Like she owned him.

The first time I saw them together, I thought I was going to be sick. She had her hand on his arm. He was smiling at something she said. And Sable howled so loud inside me I had to lock myself in a bathroom until the pain passed.

It's been four months of that. Four months of watching her touch him. Four months of feeling the bond stretch and ache every time they're together. Four months of pretending I'm fine when I'm not.

I roll over and press my face into my pillow. I won't cry. I'm done crying over things I can't control.

But Sable whimpers. And my chest hurts. And sleep still won't come.

The next morning, I drag myself to school. My eyes feel gritty. My body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.

Remy meets me at my locker. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," I mutter.

"Didn't sleep?"

"Not really."

He studies my face. "Is this about the tournament?"

"No." I grab my books and slam the locker shut. "Can we just go to class?"

He doesn't argue. We walk together in silence.

The classroom is already half-full. I take my seat in the back. Remy sits next to me. Alec slides into the seat on my other side.

"Morning, Rhea," Alec says. He's always too cheerful in the mornings.

"Morning," I mumble.

"You entering the tournament?" he asks.

"I don't know yet."

"You should. You're tougher than you look."

Remy snorts. "She's tougher than most of the guys in this school."

"Facts." Alec grins. "Hey, maybe one of us is your mate. Wouldn't that be convenient?"

My stomach drops. "What?"

"You know. Since you don't have a scent, you can't find your mate the normal way. So maybe it's someone close to you. Like me." He winks. "Or Remy."

"It's not you," Remy says flatly.

"How do you know?"

"Because I'd know."

They keep talking but I stop listening. Because the door just opened.

Ryker walks in.

My entire body goes rigid. Sable surges forward, desperate and hungry. I grip the edge of my desk so hard my knuckles turn white.

He's wearing a black shirt. Simple. But it fits him in a way that makes my mouth go dry. His hair is slightly messy. Like he ran his hands through it.

"Good morning," he says.

The room goes silent.

"I'll be observing today's class," he continues. "Don't mind me."

He leans against the wall near the front. Arms crossed. Eyes scanning the room.

I keep my head down. I focus on my notebook. I count the lines on the page.

"So what do you think?" Alec whispers. "Me or Remy?"

"Shut up," I hiss.

"I'm serious. One of us could be—"

"I said shut up."

Remy kicks Alec under the desk. Alec yelps.

I risk a glance toward the front of the room. Ryker is looking our way. His eyes are narrowed. His jaw is tight.

My heart stutters. I drop my gaze immediately.

"Did he just glare at us?" Alec whispers.

"Probably at you," Remy mutters. "You're annoying."

The teacher starts talking. I try to focus. But I can feel Ryker's presence like a weight on my skin. Every breath I take is filled with his scent.

Sable won't stop whining. Look at him. Please. Just once.

I can't. Because if I look at him, I'll break. And I can't afford to break.