Chapter 2

When we arrived at Chase’s old chateau, his grandmother was still asleep.

I sat quietly by her bedside, eyes tracing the tubes and wires connecting her fragile body to the life-sustaining machines. I reached out and gently held her hand, trying to warm her cold skin with my palms.

She stirred slightly, then slowly curled her fingers around mine.

“Granny...” I whispered, voice trembling as if she were my real grandmother — the only person left who had ever loved me without condition.

I fought hard not to cry.

“Gwen, take her for a bath,” Chase said.

After hours of exhausting travel, I must’ve looked wretched. I knew I looked dirty and weak — enough to disgust him.

I lowered my head silently and followed Gwen into the bathroom.

The space was huge, pristine, and elegant. Steam curled above the bathtub, infused with fresh herbs.

“Miss Taryn, you may take off your clothes now,” Gwen said politely.

I hesitated.

“Thank you. I’ll manage it myself. Please wait outside.”

She paused for a moment, then quietly left, closing the door behind her.

For a few seconds, I just stood there.

Then, faint voices drifted through the door.

“Alpha, Miss Taryn insists on doing it herself.”

Chase scoffed.

“Keep an eye on her. She’s filthy — like some animal dragged in from a muddy swamp.”

I froze.

For a moment, I couldn’t move.

Then slowly, I undressed. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror — all bones and bruises, scars stretched across skin that no longer belonged to the girl I used to be.

I reached down, my fingers brushing the worst one — the jagged silver-dagger wound across my waist. Like a centipede burned into flesh.

It still hurt. A lot.

But soon, I wouldn’t feel pain anymore.

And I didn’t care.

After the bath, I nearly bumped into Chase as I stepped out.

Startled, I stepped back, keeping my eyes low.

His eyes narrowed with disdain.

“Don’t you have anything decent to wear? Are you dressed like this just to break Granny’s heart?”

I blinked, lightheaded and dizzy. I barely had the strength to stand.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t bring anything better. But these clothes are clean.”

Gwen frowned.

“This dress… it looks so loose. Isn’t it a small size?”

I glanced up and met Chase’s eyes — cold, impassive as always.

I let out a dry laugh, trying to sound casual.

“I’ve been dieting too hard. I’ll gain some weight back soon.”

Gwen looked at me, visibly confused.

“Dieting…?”

Chase interrupted her.

“Take her to the fitting room. Get her some proper clothes.”

He turned away, likely about to mock me again — but his phone rang.

I caught the name on the screen: Wynnie.

He answered.

“Chase, shall we have dinner tomorrow night?”

“Fine. I’ll meet you tomorrow.”

I quietly walked toward the porch. The lighting was dim — only a few sconces flickered in the dark, casting long shadows.

But here, in the dark, I felt more at peace.

Somewhere along the line, I had stopped fearing shadows. They made it easier to disappear — to be forgotten.

They made it easier to survive.

I could still hear the soft murmur of his voice from the call, tender in ways he never was with me.

It hurt — not because he loved someone else.

But because he never tried to understand me.

Three years ago, when my father and I were hunted like criminals, I’d escaped and made my way to Hill Pack alone, nearly dying in the snow.

I begged him — begged — on my knees.

He refused to even give me a place to rest.

He didn’t send help. He didn’t believe me. He thought I’d faked it all — that I had plotted with the rogues to betray my own blood.

And because of that... Moon-Lake fell. Our home was lost. My family was broken.

My wolf was wounded beyond healing.

And he never once asked why.

Chase stepped out onto the porch.

He looked at me. I looked back.

His gaze was sharp, dissecting, like he was trying to pull out a confession with his eyes alone.

“You’ve been scheming something ever since you arrived,” he said. “You haven’t changed at all.”

I blinked slowly. “What do you mean?”

“I was just wondering where I’m going to sleep tonight.”

“Lies,” he snapped. “You’re still the same manipulative girl. If I can’t see through you, I don’t deserve to be Lycan King.”

I backed away instinctively.

He was still so quick to condemn.

Still so sure I was the villain in a story he never cared to read.

“Chase… is it okay if I call you that?” I asked softly. “I’ve always respected you — whether as Chase or as Alpha.”

My voice didn’t shake this time.

“I hope you don’t worry too much about me. Even if I have thoughts, they have nothing to do with you. Nothing I’d ever dare act on.”

He stepped forward, grabbed my chin in his hand.

“Really?” he hissed. “You were always like this — two-faced. You acted sweet in front of me and stabbed Wynette in the back. I’ve never met anyone more deceitful.”

His grip was cruel, and my breath caught in my throat.

He didn’t let go — not until I nearly passed out.

When he did, I collapsed against the wall, coughing, tears rising unbidden in my eyes.

I wanted to ask — Did you ever investigate? Did you ever stop to wonder what really happened?

But instead, I whispered, “I’ll stay somewhere else tonight. I’ll come back to visit Granny tomorrow.”

I turned to leave, my hand trembling as it gripped the banister.

But he grabbed my collar and yanked me back.

“Cut the act. Once Granny knows you’ve visited, you’re leaving.”

He turned and stormed down the stairs, out of the chateau — out of my world, once again.