Chapter 2: Burn Me, And I'll Rise

Maeve.

The cuffs were too tight again. They always were. My wrists had stopped bleeding, but the skin still peeled when I shifted. One ankle was half-swollen from when they kicked it yesterday. Or was it the day before?

Laughter drifted in.

“She doesn’t look like much now, does she?”

“Bet she’s regretting whatever curse she laid.”

“She’s nothing but a filthy little witch.”

Their words scratched along the stone walls. 

But I didn’t lift my head nor did I let it get to me.

Silence fell as they stopped—no more cruel laughs, no more vile words.

The air shifted as a tall figure entered, and the guards threw themselves into a bow.

“Luna.” They echoed.

My head jerked up against my own will. I knew that scent before she even stepped into the light.

Alia.

Every part of her was polished, perfect, with a gold pin on her chest. She stared down at me, her nose wrinkling like my stench might sting her skin. 

“So. The bitch is still breathing,” she spat out, stepping closer. “Why hasn’t Johan made the call yet?” her voice snapped. “Why is her head still on her cursed shoulders?”

Another voice behind her—Lucy. “Beta Roy… he said they’re looking for another way. To break the curse without killing her.”

My heart stuttered.

Alia spun. The vial in her hand crashed to the ground, glass splintering loud against the silence. “What kind of trash is Roy pulling?” Her voice shook with rage. “You think I spent years fighting for this pack? Pretending to love him? Clawed my way to Luna just to have it taken—by a mutt?”

Her eyes sliced to me, and something in me snapped, a soundless crack in my chest. 

My mouth parted. I knew it now. The words the priest spat—the curse, the branding, the fear—they weren’t his.

They were hers.

I didn’t cry. I looked at her, and for once—I wanted to burn what I saw before me. 

“What?” Alia snapped. “Got something to say?” She leaned down, her breath hot against my face, voice venom. “Should I rip it out for you?”

She stepped in. Too close.

But Lucy grabbed her wrist. “We have to go. His mother’s already waiting.”

Alia hissed, flicked her cloak, and turned. Their footsteps faded as they withdrew.

Stillness sank into my bones again, and my lungs refused to hold my breath.

I stared at the spot where she’d stood. Where she’d lied. Where she made them call me a witch.

My jaw locked. I bit my lips so hard, blood crawled down my chin.

A copper sting pooled in my mouth, warm and thick. I didn’t stop. Pain was the only thing I could control.

The only thing that still belonged to me. And rage—rage was all I had left to feel. All I could do was wait—wait for Johan or someone to save me

A few hours later he came, but not to save me. The door slammed open like thunder, and his boot stormed in—fast, unrelenting.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Roy!”

“Johan, wait—!”

My wolf whimpered, curled tight beneath my ribs. The bond burned—alive and snarling—funneling his rage straight to my bones. Thanks to the bond I could feel it, like my body belonged to him, not me.

Johan shoved past him. I didn’t have time to blink before his frame stood before me.

The grip came next . His hand around my throat, dragging me up by the chain like I weighed nothing.

“You think I’m a fucking joke?” he snarled. “You think you can curse me—curse this pack—and walk out alive?”

My back slammed against the bars. Steel bit bone. I gasped, feet dangling, one wrist twisted in the shackle.

“I gave it three days,” Johan spat. “Three. Fucking. Days.”

His fist crashed into my ribs—once, 

and I gasped.

two, too many to count.

“You ruined me!” he shouted. “They all think I’m cursed now—because of you!”

My body folded, breath gone, blood thick in my mouth. His boot caught my side. I didn’t even cry out—just curled.

Pain zapped again and again and again. 

He wasn’t done. Knees on my arms, weight on my chest, hands squeezing my throat. My vision popped at the edges.

I clawed at his wrist. Nails broke.

My lungs were shutting down.

My consciousness was fading. I didn’t want to die. Not like this, not for something I hadn’t done 

Alia’s words replayed in my head. “I heard them,” I gasped. “Alia—Alia said it—she made the priest do it, I’m not cursing Johan. It's all Alia’s plan.” I cried out. My body trembled, the truth spilled out too fast, too raw. “She lied to you. To everyone.”

Johan’s eyes widened his fingers let go of my neck

I jerked, coughing, choking, struggling to breathe.

I looked up. Did he believe me?

But his laughter shattered the thought; it echoed through the prison walls. His hand ran through his hair.

“You hear that, Roy?” Johan barked, looking back. “Still spinning lies, huh? Now Alia’s the villain?” he turned back, eyes lit like wildfire.“You really are a witch.”

I didn’t fight when the guards came in. Didn’t scream when they dragged me out. My bare feet scraped stone. Gravel. The moonlight stabbed my eyes.

The crowd was already waiting.

“Burn the witch! Kill her!”

“Drown her! Burn her!”

Hands hurled stones. Something sharp tore my cheek. Something heavier split my brow.

Blood ran down my jaw. My arms were wrenched behind me. I stumbled. They pulled harder.

Faces—ones I knew. Ones I served.

They screamed for my death–All for something I never did.

Tears didn’t fall because I was afraid. They fell because no one looked twice. Maybe this was the end I deserved.

I didn’t cry out.

The crowd parted as the priest stepped forward, his robes stained, voice shaking. “We’ll finish it deep in the forest,” he said. “Under the moonlight. Where the goddess can see. Where the bond will break.”

I should’ve begged.

I didn’t.

Not when Roy grabbed my arm, not when the guard seized the other. Not even when the priest whispered a final prayer.

They took me into the woods.

Deeper. Deeper. Until the shouting faded and only the wind remained.

“This is good enough,” the priest muttered, glancing up at the moon like it owed him something. “She’ll see it. She’ll end it.”

I was thrown to the floor, my wrists throbbed where the rope dug in.

Johan didn’t speak.

He stepped forward. Drew his blade.

I blinked up at him. “Please,” I breathed. “Please don’t.”

His hand didn’t falter.

The metal kissed my skin, then drove deep—into my gut.

And the scream I had held in for so long broke out.

Pain slipped in.

“It hurts.” I gasped. “Johan please It hurts.” I cried out with a ragged voice.

He leaned in close, smiled like it meant nothing.

“I know,” he whispered. “I want it to.”

Another twist. 

My scream faded, light drained from my eyes as I fell, the cold earth catching me.

“Finally,” Johan laughed, a hollow sound that scraped against my bones. “I’m free.” He turned his back, boots shuffling. The priest’s voice cut one last time: “Leave her. Let the forest have what’s left.”

They left.

One by one, their footsteps vanished.

And I bled. So much of it. Too much.

The silver above blurred as tears streamed sideways.

“Why?” I whispered to the sky. “Why me?”

But the moon didn’t answer.

She only watched.

She watched me cry. She watched me die.

And then—

She came closer.

Her light grew colder. Brighter. It wrapped around my fingers. Slide into my chest. Pulled something back.

A spark. A breath. A heartbeat.

I gasped. My body jerked–once.

Then again.

My eyes flew open, White. Gleaming. Burning.

The moon saw me. And this time,

She did not look away.