Chapter 4 The Stakes

I didn't sleep that night.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the letter burning a hole in my pocket. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother's handwriting. Every time I breathed, I felt the warmth of the mark on my shoulder.

You are the last of your bloodline.

The words echoed in my head. Over and over. Like a drumbeat. Like a warning.

I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know who my family was. I didn't know what power I was supposed to have. But I knew one thing.

I couldn't stay here.

Not like this. Not as the ghost of a wife, the shadow of a Luna. Not while Marilyn pranced around my home like she'd already won.

I had to leave. I had to find out who I really was.

But there was one problem.

Ziki.

My son was asleep in his room. His little chest rose and fell with each breath. His small hand was curled around his stuffed wolf—the one I'd given him when he was a baby.

He looked so peaceful. So innocent. He had no idea his world was about to shatter.

How could I leave him? How could I walk away from the only good thing in my life?

But how could I stay? How could I let Marilyn sink her claws into him? How could I let Ezekiel turn him into another cold, broken man?

I couldn't.

I wouldn't.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing I knew, sunlight was streaming through the window and Ziki was shaking my shoulder.

"Mama! Mama, wake up! Auntie Marilyn is making pancakes!"

I blinked. Forced a smile. "That sounds lovely, baby. Go ahead. I'll be down in a minute."

He kissed my cheek and ran out of the room. His footsteps echoed down the hallway, full of excitement and joy.

He didn't even notice I wasn't smiling.

I dragged myself out of bed. Splashed cold water on my face. Stared at my reflection in the mirror.

The woman staring back at me looked tired. Defeated. Her dark hair was limp. Her eyes were hollow. Her skin was pale.

But something was different.

There was a fire in her eyes. Small. Barely visible. But it was there.

I touched my shoulder. The mark was warm again. Like it was reminding me I wasn't alone.

Your real name is Ymir Drakos.

I took a deep breath. Pushed the fire down. Painted on my mask.

I walked down to the kitchen.

Marilyn was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes like she'd lived here her whole life. She was wearing one of my aprons. My kitchen. My son. My life.

And she was smiling like she'd earned it.

"There she is!" She gestured to the table. "I made your favorite. Blueberry pancakes."

I stared at the plate. My favorite. She remembered my favorite. She'd been collecting information about me for years, and she'd used every last piece of it to destroy me.

I didn't sit.

"Ezekiel," I said. "I need to talk to you. In private."

He looked up from his coffee. His cold gray eyes studied me like I was a puzzle he'd already solved.

"Now?"

"Yes. Now."

He sighed. Set down his mug. "Fine. Let's go."

Marilyn's smile flickered. Just a little. She didn't like being left out. She didn't like not knowing what was happening.

Good.

I led Ezekiel to the study. Closed the door behind us.

"I want to leave," I said.

He blinked. For the first time since I'd known him, he looked genuinely surprised.

"Leave?"

"Take Ziki and leave. I can't stay here anymore."

"Don't be ridiculous." His voice was cold again. "You're not going anywhere."

"Watch me."

I walked toward the door. He grabbed my wrist. His grip was tight—not painful, but firm.

"You're not taking my son."

I spun around. "Your son? When did he become your son? You've barely looked at him in years. You've barely looked at me in years."

"That's not true—"

"It is true." My voice was rising. "You've been cold. Distant. You've treated me like I was nothing, and I let you. I let you because I loved you. Because I thought if I just tried harder, you'd finally see me. But you never did. And you never will."

He let go of my wrist. Took a step back.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know everything." I reached into my pocket. Pulled out the letter. "I know about my real family. I know about my real name. I know I'm not just your rejected Luna. I'm something more. Something you never bothered to find out."

He stared at the letter. His face was unreadable.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was in the attic. Hidden. My mother wrote it before she died."

"I didn't know—"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked. You never cared." I shoved the letter back into my pocket. "I'm leaving, Ezekiel. I'm taking Ziki, and I'm leaving."

"Ymir—"

"Don't." I held up a hand. "Don't pretend you care now. It's too late for that."

He was silent. For a long moment, he just stared at me.

Then he said something I didn't expect.

"I won't stop you."

I blinked. "What?"

"I won't stop you." He walked to the window. Stared out at the garden. "If you want to leave, leave. But don't take Ziki. He needs to stay here. He needs to be with his pack."

"He's my son—"

"He's my son too. And he's not leaving this territory. That's the one thing I won't let you do."

I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream. But I could see it in his eyes. He wasn't going to back down.

He'd let me go. He'd let me leave. But he'd never let me take Ziki.

And if I tried—

He'd stop me.

He'd use his power. His authority. The whole pack would be against me. I'd have nothing. No home. No son. No hope.

I was trapped.

"Fine." My voice was barely a whisper. "I'll go. I'll leave. But I'm coming back. And when I do—"

I didn't finish. I didn't need to. He knew exactly what I meant.

I walked out of the study. Past the kitchen where Marilyn was still making pancakes. Past Ziki who was laughing at something she said.

He didn't even look at me.

I went to the garden. Sat on the bench where I'd spent so many hours watching Ziki play. I stared at the flowers Marilyn had planted. The ones she'd planted in my garden.

I won't stop you.

He'd let me go. He'd let me disappear. And he'd keep my son.

Why? Why did he want Ziki so badly? He'd barely looked at him. He'd barely spoken to him. But he was suddenly ready to fight for him?

Unless it wasn't about Ziki at all.

Unless he was using my son to keep me here.

Or to keep me from leaving.

I didn't know. I didn't know anything anymore.

I was still sitting there when Xavier found me.

"Ymir." His voice was soft. Gentle. "Are you okay?"

I looked up. He was standing in front of me, his dark hair tousled, his brown eyes full of concern. He looked like he'd come straight from the road. He was still wearing his traveling cloak.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I had to see you." He sat beside me. "I heard about Ezekiel. About Marilyn. I know what happened."

I laughed. A bitter, hollow sound. "Everyone knows, apparently. Everyone except me."

"I'm sorry." He meant it. I could hear it in his voice. "I should have told you. I should have warned you."

"Warned me?" I turned to look at him. "You knew?"

"I knew Marilyn wasn't what she seemed. I didn't have proof. But I suspected." He looked down. "I didn't want to hurt you without proof."

"Too late for that."

He was silent. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

"I came to give you this."

"What is it?"

"An address. A place you can go if you need to get away."

I took the paper. Unfolded it.

Ashford Sanctuary.

"What is this?"

"My family's estate. It's hidden. Protected. Nobody knows about it." He met my eyes. "You can stay there as long as you need. You can figure out who you are. What you want. Everything."

I stared at the paper. At the words written in his careful handwriting.

"Why would you do this for me?" I asked. "We barely know each other."

"I know you better than you think." He smiled. It was a gentle smile. One that didn't make me feel small. "I've been watching you for a long time, Ymir. I've been waiting for you to be ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready to know the truth."

He reached over and touched my shoulder. Right where the mark was. I felt a jolt—like electricity running through my veins.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"Showing you." He pulled his hand away. "The mark on your shoulder. It's not just a birthmark. It's a claim. A connection to your bloodline. And I'm part of that bloodline."

I stared at him. My mind was spinning. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying—" He paused. Took a breath. "I'm saying your mother was like a sister to me. She asked me to protect you. She asked me to wait until you were ready."

"To protect me from what?"

"From the people who killed her."

The words hung in the air. Heavy. Terrible.

My mother was dead. My father was dead. They'd been killed. And I'd been hidden away to save me.

"Who killed them?" My voice was shaking. "Who killed my family?"

Xavier looked at me. His eyes were full of pain.

"Ezekiel's father."

I couldn't breathe.

"The same man who raised Ezekiel," Xavier continued. "The same man who taught him to be cold. To be cruel. He killed your family because they threatened his power. And he's been looking for you ever since."

I shook my head. "No. No, that can't be—"

"It's true." Xavier reached for my hand. "But Ezekiel doesn't know. He doesn't know what his father did. He doesn't know who you really are."

I pulled my hand away. Stood up. Started pacing.

This changed everything. Everything I'd thought I knew about my life was a lie. My family was killed by his father. The man who raised him. The man who taught him to be cold and cruel.

And Ezekiel didn't even know.

How could he not know? How could he be so blind?

"Ymir." Xavier stood up. "Ymir, look at me."

I stopped pacing. Turned to face him.

"I know this is a lot to take in," he said. "But I'm here. I've always been here. And I'll help you through this. Whatever you need."

"Why?" I asked. "Why do you care?"

He smiled. That same gentle smile.

"Because your mother was like a sister to me. Because I made a promise to protect you. And because—"

He paused.

"Because I've been waiting for you to finally see yourself the way I see you."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to feel.

All I knew was that I couldn't stay here. Not anymore. Not knowing what I knew.

I turned to him.

"Take me to the sanctuary."