11

SIENNA

 

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elira’s reflection in the mirror…her faint smile, the gleam of that dagger beneath her fingertips. Her words echoed like a slow, steady pulse in my head. “Once you threaten it… things fall apart.”

The air in the pack felt too still, too heavy. I could hear the faint crackle of the fires outside, the wind tugging at the fabric walls, and somewhere in the distance, someone’s low, drunken laugh. The camp was alive, yet I felt like I was suffocating.

When I finally pushed the curtain aside, the night looked calm, almost kind. But then I saw them.

Elira stood close to Rhys near the main house, her hand tracing the line of his arm. She tilted her head, smiling up at him, lips moving in some soft, poisonous whisper I couldn’t hear. He didn’t smile back. His face was unreadable, the kind that gave away nothing.

And then he looked up.

Our eyes met across the courtyard, his dark and steady, mine frozen in the pale moonlight. He didn’t look away. Not once.

“What are you doing, Sienna?” I muttered

I wasn’t sure what frightened me more… that he saw me watching him, or that he didn’t seem to care.

When he finally turned, Elira followed his gaze toward my window. Her expression didn’t change, but something shifted in her eyes…a quiet satisfaction. Like she’d just confirmed something she already suspected.

“Stupid… stupid… stupid… you’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.”

I let the curtain fall and pressed my back against the wall, my heart hammering.

***********************

By morning, the air smelled of rain and smoke. I went to the healers’ quarters early, at least that was one thing I was glad I was able to do and despite how frigid the atmosphere was, some of the rogues were already warming up to me. I was hoping to lose myself at work. The wounded still came in from border fights…cuts, bruises, broken bones. I washed and wrapped, crushed herbs, and whispered small comforts. My hands moved on instinct now, but my thoughts wouldn’t stay still.

Rhea watched me from across the table, her eyes tired. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

“I didn’t,” I said.

“Elira?”

I didn’t answer, but she nodded anyway, as if she already knew. “She’s testing you.”

“For what?”

“To see what breaks you first.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. “Then she’ll have to wait a long time.”

Rhea smiled sadly. “Maybe. But she’s patient.”

Before I could answer, a commotion outside broke the calmness I was already getting used to. Raised voices, hurried footsteps. Someone shouted, “It’s Rhys!”

My stomach tightened.

I pushed through the tent flaps, and the crowd was already forming near the training grounds. Rhys stood there, flanked by two guards. Between them knelt a man, one of the younger rogues, barely older than me, blood dripping from a cut on his lip.

He was trembling.

Rhys’s voice was low but carried through the clearing. “You were caught near the east border. Why?”

The man swallowed hard. “I wasn’t leaving. I swear. I was just…”

“Spying?” Elira’s voice sliced through the noise as she stepped forward, her long flowing gown trailing lightly across the dirt. “We all saw you. You were heading toward the woods.”

“No, Luna, please, I wasn’t…”

Elira looked at Rhys. “You said loyalty keeps us alive, didn’t you?”

Rhys didn’t reply. His eyes were cold, unreadable again, but his jaw clenched.

“Then what do we do with betrayal?” she asked softly.

The man started crying. “I wasn’t betraying anyone! Please!”

I couldn’t stop myself. “Wait,” I said, stepping forward. “He’s one of the wounded. He was still limping from the last flight and couldn't run far even if he wanted to.”

Every head turned. Elira’s gaze landed on me like a blade. “Sienna,” she said slowly. “You seem to have something to say.”

I swallowed. “He’s not a spy.”

Rhys’s eyes flicked to me then. For a second…just a heartbeat, something shifted in his face. Recognition? Concern? I didn’t know.

Elira’s lips curved slightly. “How loyal of you to speak for him.”

“I’m speaking for the truth.”

The air was thick enough to choke on.

Rhys turned back to the man. “Take him to the cages,” he said finally. “We’ll see if your story changes by morning.”

The man was dragged away, still pleading. Elira didn’t look away from me once.

When everyone dispersed, I felt a hand on my arm. Rhea. “You shouldn’t have spoken,” she whispered. “That wasn’t courage, Sienna. That was suicide.”

Maybe she was right but I couldn’t stand there and say nothing.

Later that night, I went to fetch more herbs from the storehouse. The camp was quiet, the fires dim. The ground was slick from the rain that had finally come, and the scent of wet earth filled the air.

As I turned the corner near the main house, I heard voices again…soft but tense.

“Elira,” Rhys said. His tone was sharper than I’d ever heard.

“You’re losing control,” she replied calmly. “First the healers, now her. You’re letting her change things.”

“Enough,” he said.

“She’s dangerous, Rhys. You don’t see it because you want to. But I do, she’s from the Silverfang pack, you think you can trust her just because she’s carrying a bastard pup? How can you not see it?”

I froze. My chest tightened painfully.

“Don’t speak about her,” Rhys said. “Not like that.”

Elira laughed quietly, the sound almost cruel. “You think you’re protecting her? You’re putting a target on her back.”

There was a pause, long and heavy. When she spoke again, her voice dropped low, almost a whisper. “You forget who made you Alpha.”

Rhys didn’t reply.

The sound of footsteps followed…hers, going back into the darkness.

I stayed hidden until silence settled again. Then I turned and ran back toward my room, heart pounding, rain clinging to my hair and clothes.

What did she mean, who made you Alpha?

No matter how much I tried to sleep, it never came. By morning, I went back to the cages behind the stables. The young rogue sat curled in the corner, shivering, his wrists raw from the iron bars.

He looked up weakly. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured.

“I brought water,” I said, pushing it through.

He drank greedily, then wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. “They said… They said someone told Elira I was meeting outsiders. I wasn’t.”

“I know,” I whispered.

His eyes darted to the shadows. “You have to be careful. They watch everyone who talks to Rhys.”

“I don’t talk to Rhys,” I said, even though we both knew it wasn’t true.

He gave a faint smile. “Maybe not with words.”

Before I could answer, a deep voice spoke behind me. “You shouldn’t be here either.”

I turned. Rhys stood there, cloak dark with rain, eyes fixed on me.

“I was checking on him,” I said. “He’s sick.”

“You think kindness will fix that?”

“I think cruelty won’t.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then he stepped closer, his voice lower. “Elira doesn’t like defiance.”

“Then she shouldn’t provoke it.”

Something flickered in his eyes…something that almost looked like amusement, or maybe warning. “You don’t understand the danger you’re in Goldie.”

“Then tell me.”

He hesitated. “Not here.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he was gone.

“Why don’t you say many words?”

That night, the rain started again. I sat by the small fire in my tent, watching the flames twist and bend. The herbs hanging from the ceiling moved gently with the breeze, their shadows dancing against the walls.

I was about to lie down when I heard it, a faint knock.

“Who is it?” I asked. No answer. Just silence.

I stood slowly, heart racing. The knock came again, softer this time. I pushed the curtain aside and gasped.

No one was there but on the ground in front of my tent lay a folded piece of paper, already wet from the rain. I picked it up, my hands trembling.

Three words were scrawled in dark ink:

“Leave before morning.”

**********************

The next morning, the camp was in chaos. One of the guards had been found dead near the east border, his throat slit, no scent of the killer. Elira stood in the courtyard, barking orders, her eyes wild and bright.

“Who did this?” she demanded. “Who left the camp last night?”

Everyone looked at everyone else, fear rippling through the crowd. I felt Rhea’s hand grip mine tightly.

Elira’s gaze swept across the faces, sharp and searching. Then her eyes landed on me.

“Where were you, healer?”

My heart thudded. “In my tent.”

Her lips curved slowly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Rhys appeared behind her then, his eyes meeting mine briefly. Something unreadable passed between us. Then he said quietly, “Enough. We’ll find out soon enough who’s lying.”

Elira’s eyes lingered on me a moment longer before she turned away and as the crowd scattered, I looked down at my hands, still stained faintly with ink.

Whoever left that note had known something was coming and somehow, I was standing right in the middle of it.