Pilot

The pack called me nothing. I called myself stubborn.

" Ivy!". My name spat like a curse across the hall, and I knelt there, arms smelling of coal, sweat cooling on my skin, scrubbing the banquet hall floor until my palms ached. The silver gleamed, the guests would notice the smallest imperfection, and Maris’s voice cut through my thoughts like a knife.

“You’re late.” Maris; the Alpha's niece. Her smile was poison. The other omegas circled me, looking for weakness to spit on, eyes glinting at the prey they thought I was, maybe I was.

. My body obeyed the floor, my rag moving faster than my mind.

Then I saw a shadow from the entrance

“Stop punishing the stone, Ivy. It’s only doing its job.”

I froze. Kellan Ashborne, Alpha heir, and beta. The Alpha was unable to bring forth children so he chose his most trusted beta - Kellan, to be his successor.

Kellan stood at the door frame like he was just returning from the storms, iron-bright hair catching the torchlight, golden eyes cataloging me.

He came closer. One hand on my elbow, calm, precise and even terrifying at the same time. "Show the floor some mercy" He said. Mercy-he said it like it was possible, but I had never tasted it. Not here, and I don't think ever.

Immediately Kellan exited the room, Maris laughed, sharp and cruel. "Pet" They all laughed, they usually call me all sort of names - Forsaken, whisper-marked, dragged from the border, Invisible.

...

That night, I carried stale bread to the border, it was a half-moon tonight. The tress wiggle the dry sound of leaves pushing at each other. The cool night breeze blasted up my face into my nostrils - it felt nice

Then the copper smell hit me - blood, fear, raw pain!

Under the yew, a man lay crumpled. Coat shredded with blood stain, breath shallow. My hands moved before I could even think. Shawl torn into strips, binding wounds. Herbs bitter between my teeth. Blue eyes like carved glass, staring at me.

“Hide me,” he begged

I should have walked away. I should have let him die. But I remembered what it was to be abandoned, left to bleed. I dragged him to my hut, whispered nonsense to calm him, brought coins for bread, fed him, tended fever and nightmares.

I left him to rest

By dawn, he was gone. Only a scrap of blue cloth remained, burning in my pocket - A reminder of my crime for the better good.

I was glad the rouge was gone

Days later, gathering herbs, Maris struck. Nails digging into my hair, the brand of the forsaken flashing. Kellan’s eyes on us, silent, judging, warning? - his impression was unreadable . I lied. “Found it in the yard.” Maris laughed, forced me to scrub gutters in the sun. My skin blistered, my ribs throbbed with the drone of her cruelty.

....

That night, he returned-the rouge. Limping, bleeding, not hiding.

“That night, you helped, and cared for my wound, why” he says

“Because someone once saved me,” I said. “Because I remember bleeding. Because kindness is revenge to a cruel world.” I continue "And plus I couldn't just leave you there dieing"

He touched my hand, careful. Taught me to braid splints, bind without leaving marks, name herbs that slow fever. And told me his name 'Rowan' The cottage became a court of hope and fear - a risky game. A coin pressed into my palm, his whisper: “If wolves that aren’t ours come…run.”

....

The wolves came; Multiples of them. Merciless, Rowan lunged for me. The net snapped, and pain exploded in my knees. Iron filled my mouth.

Dragged to a clearing. Mercenaries, not the Alpha’s hunters. The leader’s eyes measured me. “You harbor rogues, you forfeit your place.”

A roar sound like thunder from the darkness 'Kellan!'

He tore through them, calm fury breaking their so called defenses. Men staggered. His hand struck the leader. “You have no right,” he said. “You camp on our borders without permission.”

Kellan’s gaze shifted to me. “Ivy, go back to the house. Do not leave again!.”

Rowan squeezed my hand. “I will not leave her.”

Kellan’s jaw tightened. “Rogue-do not come within sight of this pack again.”

Rowan paled. “I did not ask for mercy, I asked for safety.”

“Mercy is rare,” Kellan said. “Ivy, if I find you consorting with rogues, you will be removed from the pack.”

I tried to speak,my hands slick with sweat. Rowan moved between us, a fragile shield. Kellan’s shadow stretched across the clearing. “Take the rogue and leave the girl” he commanded.

Rowan was dragged down the road. Before leaving, His hand pressed the blue scrap and coin into mine, whispered instructions: "meet at the bridge under a quarter moon, say nothing to no one". His figure swallowed by darkness.

I could not sleep. The hut felt too small and lonely. The wind too loud, the blue scrap under my mattress was a tether, a pulse of memory.

At midnight, I wrapped a cloak and crept to the bridge. My ankle throbbed from the cut, my hands raw, but I kept moving

Someone waited from the distance, tall, Cloaked.

I was finally happy to see Rowan again

As I moved closer to the figure in the dark. I realized...

It was not Rowan,

But Kellan.

“I thought of everything but this,” he said softly. “Why did you come?”

“Because you said the bridge would be unguarded,” I lied.

He stepped closer, eyes unreadable, fingers curling like a fist. He seized the blue scrap, held it, studied it, then throw it away on the floor - but I picked it up

“You have to forget about this rogue friend of yours, for your own safety Ivy"

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I will tell you what you must do to survive,to stay safe after all you've done so far

Be ready to betray everything you think you know.”

The river fluttered, the winds whispered, the darkness creeped in closer. And just like that Kellan was gone

At this point I realized this was no longer survival in a pack. This was survival of myself, my choices, my mercy, my defiance.

And I feel it in my bones that my reality is about to turn around - better or worse ?

That's what I do not understand yet..