Chapter 4

Yvonne hit the ground so hard the impact knocked the air out of her. She sat there, trembling, her perfect little face streaked with tears and smeared mascara.

The elder checked the pup first. Once he was satisfied the cub was unharmed, his gaze shifted to Yvonne's bloodied right hand—the scratches still oozing red.

"Elder, this is a misunderstanding!" Damon stepped forward instinctively, shielding Yvonne with his body. "She just thought the pup was cute. She wanted a photo. There was no malice, I swear!"

"No malice?" The guard who'd been tricked came storming back, his face twisted with rage. "I trusted you to watch the tent, and you let this she-wolf sneak in to defile our future Alpha? You outsiders are nothing but mongrels!"

"I didn't! I swear I didn't!" Yvonne sobbed, her carefully done makeup now a complete mess. She looked pathetic. Wrecked.

Then something clicked behind her eyes. She whipped her head around, staring straight at me standing outside the tent, and screamed like I was her last lifeline:

"It was Lily! Lily told me to do it! She said the Blackwood pups were the gentlest, that holding one was no big deal! Damon, tell them! Tell them she's the one who set me up!"

Damon latched onto the excuse like a drowning man grabbing driftwood.

"Lily! You knew the rules here! Why didn't you stop Yvonne? Were you trying to get her hurt on purpose? God, you're so selfish!"

Standing there, listening to the two of them point fingers at me, I almost laughed.

Was it really that easy for them? To throw me under the bus without a second thought?

Not this time.

I pulled my camera out of my pocket, then held up my phone.

"Damon. Yvonne. Funny thing—I happened to record the whole thing. Want to take a look?"

I tapped the screen and played the video. Crystal clear. Every word, every whine, every sweet little plea from Yvonne. All of it.

And in every single frame, I was standing three steps away from the tent, hands in my pockets, not even brushing against the fabric.

I put my devices away and turned to the elder, giving him a small, respectful bow.

"Warriors of the Blackwood Pack. Honored Elder. I never touched that tent. The video and the audio both prove that I gave Yvonne no advice, no encouragement—only told them I didn't know the rules. None of this has anything to do with me."

Damon's face went pale. His mouth opened, closed, opened again—not a single sound came out.

Yvonne collapsed completely. "No... no way. You recorded it? Lily, you bitch—you set me up!"

"Set you up?"

"You picked the road. You reached out your own hand."

The elder stared down at the crumpled mess on the ground.

"Defiling our pureblood pup. By the laws of the Blackwood Pack—your hand will be severed. You'll be cast out. Your fate is no longer in our hands."

"No!" Yvonne's scream was raw, desperate—and then her eyes rolled back. She passed out cold.

Damon broke. "We have money! We can pay! Please, just let her go!"

"The Cross family?" The elder's voice dripped with contempt. "To us, you're nothing but ants to be crushed underfoot." He waved his hand. "Take her. Execute the sentence. Now."

Several warriors surged forward, grabbing Yvonne like dead weight and dragging her toward the altar.

Damon turned on me, hysterical.

"Lily! You've always listened to me! Save her—please! Just say it was you, and they won't touch you! You're still my fated mate, damn it!"

"Mate?" I repeated the word softly, tasting it like poison. Then I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him.

"Damon. Do you really not remember? The three days and three nights in that dungeon? The way you watched them throw me into the wolf pit? And now you're asking me to be your mate? Or are you just looking for another scapegoat for Yvonne?"

He froze. His face went slack, eyes wide with shock.

"You—you—"

He never got to finish. The warriors shoved him forward, and he stumbled away.

I straightened up and lifted my eyes to the cold, pale moon hanging overhead.

One piece of the old wound. Finally stitched shut.