Chapter 5

I gave him a weird look. “I already told you all I know.”

He scoffed. “Really?”

His tone was mocking, like I was a child caught sneaking sweets. He didn’t move at first, just leaned back in the chair, eyes on me. That ice blue eyes cold enough to make my skin prickle.

Why won’t he believe me? I’ve said it. I’ve said everything I can…

I shifted against the headboard, trying to inch toward the side. If I could just slide off the bed, kick him in the face or better still, run–

His eyes fixed on the bed and back on me.

He scoffed and in an instant, he was on me.

“Ah.”

His hand slammed against the mattress beside my head, pinning me there.

His other hand grabbed my wrist and shoved it above me. His strength was unreal; I barely had time to gasp before he pressed me back down. I tried to struggle but I couldn't move my wrists at all.

“Trying to run already?” His mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile.

I froze. My pulse pounded so loud it drowned out everything else.

Move. Kick him. Bite him. Anything.

But I didn’t know how. I had no training, no instinctl0ll⁹beyond panic. My knee twitched, useless.

A flash of silver appeared in front of me and I gasped.

Cold metal touched my throat, the flat of a blade grazing sensitive skin. I held my breath, afraid even air might slice me open.

“Start talking,” he murmured. His voice was too calm, too steady, like the knife was just an extension of him. “You’ve given me scraps. I want the whole thing.”

“I did talk,” I whispered. My throat was tight, voice shaking. “I told you—I was reborn.”

That got a reaction.

He chuckled, his Adam apple bubbling, his hair falling forward until it brushed my cheek. Black strands tickled my skin, smelled faintly of pine and smoke.

“Reborn.” He repeated it like it was the punchline to a joke. His face was so close now, I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the clean cut of his nose.

Beautiful and dangerous.

Everything about him screamed predator.

“You think I’m buying that?” His chuckle rumbled against me. “People don’t crawl out of graves covered in slime because fate decided to be…generous.”

He doesn’t believe me.

He’ll never believe me.

I shut my eyes for a second, hoping the pressure of the knife would vanish if I ignored it.

It didn’t.

“Look at me,” he said, and the command snapped my eyes open.

The blade pressed harder, not enough to cut, but close. My chest heaved against his hold as I watched him. Waiting for his next move.

His eyes searched mine, like he was peeling back layers. “You tell some pity story and you expect me to think that’s all coincidence?”

“I don’t know what else to call it!” My voice cracked. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to come back.”

For a second, something flickered in his gaze. Then it was gone, replaced by the same cold calculation.

“You’re lying.”

I flinched. “I’m not—”

“Someone sent you.” His knife tilted, edge glinting under the cabin light. “No way you’re just some girl with a sad story. Where’s the one who melted steel in my hand? Where’s that creature?”

My lips parted, but no words came.

“I know she’s in there.” His breath brushed my ear, low and lethal. “So either you start talking, or I test how deep I can cut before you stop breathing.”

The knife shifted, steel cold, the edge biting against my skin.

“What exactly do you want to know?”

He didn't reply. I tsked. I tried to push against him once more but that was useless.

I let out a shaky breath. “The people who killed me name was my brother, named Marcus Vale. Damon Cross.”

I didn't bother to mention the other mysterious wolf as I don't know who that person was. And his scent was none that I had ever smell. If my memory served me right, it smelled of leather…and citrus.

His eyes flickered just a flash of emption, before he stepped back, knife lowering but not gone.

“You know them,” I whispered.

“I’m related to one,” he said flatly.

I adjusted my position to sit properly, running a hand along the sore line on my throat.

“Then… tell me. Do you know them? How are they? What happened to them after—after I died?”

His gaze cut into mine. “No one died.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“Marcus doesn’t have a sister. Not anymore. Not from what I remember. And if you had died, the Vale pack would have made it a big deal.”

I blinked hard, words tangling in my throat. “What do you mean? He doesn’t—he doesn’t what? I don’t understand.”

“Your name,” he said, voice low. “What is it?”

I opened my mouth, then froze.

What was my name?

Air rushed in and out of my lungs, but nothing came. My mind throbbed blank, like pages ripped from a book.

“I…” My lips trembled, I bit my lips before continuing. “I—Ivory. Ivory Vale.”

The words tumbled out with a strange relief. “Daughter of the Vale family. Younger sister of Marcus Vale. Luna of the Vale pack.”

His jaw tightened. “I am Dante. And the only Ivory Vale I ever heard of was sent away. To the Solhaven Asylum. For… mental help.”

Blood drained from my face.

“She was found raving,” he continued, “after being chased through the forest by rogues. The story was she lost her mind. That she never recovered.”

My chest rose and fell too fast. For a moment, the world tilted.

“Sent away?” I whispered.

"That's the record."

I stared at him. The words didn't make sense at first, just sounds hanging in the air.

I bit my lips, still surprised.

“No. No, that couldn't be right. I…remembered dying. I swear…I…died and…and he lied that I went…crazy?” My lips were trembling as I brought my knees to my chest, resting my head on it.

Marcus was the best brother. He loved me. Played with me. Took care of me like every brother would. Made me happy and yet…he killed me.

And lied about it. Being a coward who doesn't accept his sins. It was unfair.

How could they go on living their lives while I…I remained goddess knows where rotting.

It was UNFAIR!

I let out a shaky breathe.

No.

No.

He couldn't continue to live like nothing happened. I must do something. I raised my head up, looking at my hands, touching my face, running it down my neck.

And I smiled.

A laughter escaped me.

Just a hiccup at first, caught somewhere between a sob and a breath. Then another. And another.

Until it poured out of me in bursts that hurt my ribs and made tears stream down my face. I couldn’t stop. The sound bounced off the cabin walls, wild and too loud.

He didn’t flinch. He just watched, knife loose in his hand, eyes narrowing like he was cataloguing every broken piece of me.

“You really are crazy,” he muttered.

I choked on the next laugh when metal clinked. Cold steel circled my wrist, snapping shut in one fluid motion.

My head jerked up. “What—”

He pulled the chain tight and fastened it to the bedpost, the bite of iron digging into my skin.

My laughter died in my throat, leaving only silence and the sharp rattle of links.

I stared at him, heart thundering, ribs aching from what felt like hysterics turned hollow.

He straightened, knife sliding back into its sheath with deliberate ease. His movements were precise, practiced. Like he’d done this a thousand times.

He turned toward the door.

“Wait,” I blurted, the chain jerking when I tried to sit up. “Let me make a deal with you.”

Dante didn’t even slow. “You’re not in the position for deals.”

“I don’t care,” I snapped. “You seem paranoid about someone finding you and your charge. I’m not that person.”

His back stayed to me, broad shoulders framed by the lantern glow.

“But…” I swallowed, forcing the words out. “I was reborn. Whether you believe it or not. And I’d be a fool to remain the same. A girl with no inkling or control of her life.”

He shifted slightly, enough that I caught the faintest side glance, blue eyes flashing.

“I want you…” My voice shook, but I pushed through. “To teach me how to fight. And to help me get my revenge and I can help you with anything. Anything at all.”

For a moment, he just stood there, unreadable. Then he gave me a side-eye, cold and fleeting, before turning back to the door.

“Hey. Wait—”

The door shut behind him with a solid thud.

I sagged against the chain, lips parting. “Ugh. Seriously?”