Chapter 19

Aila Coraline

I come with my father back in the center with a confused mind. I still couldn’t believe what they had told me. Before I went to the homestead, I had my suspicions about Anastasia, but nothing like this—betrayal? She had been so eager back then to prove her worth, hoping to lead the she-wolves. Would she really betray us? It just didn’t make sense.

When we arrived back, my father sent me home immediately, assigning me this task... alone. He must believe I can handle it since Anastasia is my friend. But how am I supposed to when she’s nowhere to be found? Did she escape? Maybe she fled to another pack.

"Did Anastasia say something strange in the past, Mother?" I asked.

Mother was placing a tray of cookies in the microwave. "I wouldn’t call it strange," she replied, closing the microwave door with a soft click. "More like... frustration." She paused, her brows knitting. "She came here last month when you were at the center for training. She told me the Alpha had grown more unfair toward the she-wolves. I think her third proposal was turned down again."

I chewed on that information, trying to fit it into the puzzle. "Her third proposal?" I asked.

Mother nodded. "Yes. She had been working on new defensive techniques for the she-wolves, hoping they’d be approved. But each time, Alpha Samuel rejected them."

I know Alpha Samuel holds stereotypes about our abilities. He just doesn’t trust us enough when it comes to battle or combat. It’s ironic, really—he had she-wolves trained to protect the homestead but refuses to allow a she-wolf to train others at the center.

"Do you think it’s just sheer frustration that pushed her to betray us?" I wondered aloud.

Anastasia isn’t that shallow. I’ve known her for half of my life, and she’s always been a dignified woman, someone who fights fairly. It doesn’t seem like enough reason for her to turn against us.

Mother sighed, her eyes softening with an understanding that only comes from experience. "Sometimes," she said, "too much shame can drive a person to do something unthinkable. Anastasia is not an exception to that."

I frowned, absorbing her words. Shame? What could she have been so ashamed of that it led her to betrayal? My mother’s insight made me think harder about the emotions Anastasia might have hidden beneath her strong exterior.

As the cookies warmed in the microwave, the scent of chocolate filled the air, but I couldn’t focus on anything but the growing sense of urgency in my chest. If Anastasia’s betrayal was more than frustration, then what else had pushed her? Was there something more sinister behind it?

A sudden thought struck me, one that sent a cold shiver down my spine. "Mother," I said slowly, "did Anastasia mention anyone she was working with? Someone she trusted or spoke to often?"

Mother’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to recall a distant memory. "Well," she said after a moment, "there was one person she mentioned frequently... someone she confided in. I think it was—"

Before she could finish, a knock on the door interrupted us, loud and insistent. My heart skipped a beat. Who would be here at this hour? My mother’s face grew serious, and we exchanged a wary glance.

"Stay behind me," I whispered.

I peeked through the hole, using my wolf vision, but I saw nothing. There was no scent behind the door either, which I found strange. It was almost past midnight, and by now everyone should be resting, aside from the warriors assigned to patrol the area.

"I see nobody outside," I mind-linked to my mother.

"Who could it be?" she responded.

I shrugged. When I peeked again, I noticed a small envelope on the floor, as if someone had just slipped it in. It was bright red, the color of cherries. Curiosity prickled at me, and I bent down to pick it up.

"There's a letter," I announced, waving the envelope in my hand.

When my mother saw it, her eyes widened—not in shock, but in fear. Without hesitation, she grabbed the envelope from me.

"This is for me," she said firmly. "I’ll read it later."

I watched, stunned, as she turned and headed back to the kitchen, clutching the letter tightly. A letter for her? From who? Suspicion stirred in me, and I followed her, my eyes narrowing with concern. Was my mother hiding something from me too? What was going on?

"Mother," I called, "what is that letter all about? Who is it from?"

She hesitated, looking more bothered now than ever. My mother busied herself with the cookies, avoiding my question, her hands moving mechanically. My brow furrowed in frustration. How could she be hiding something from me, too?

"Mom, I’m asking you," I pressed. "Are you hiding something from me as well?"

She stopped what she was doing and turned to face me. There was a guilty look in her eyes, the kind that spoke volumes, as if silently confessing that she had indeed kept secrets. My heart sank. All my life, I had trusted her, believed in her. If I found out she had lied too, I didn’t know how I’d handle it.

"I'm sorry, Ai," she said softly, using my nickname in a way that felt almost like an apology itself. "But... there are things you don’t know. Things I hoped you’d never have to know or worry about."

I felt my chest tighten. "What things?" I desperately demanded. "What haven’t you told me?"

She opened her mouth as if to answer, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. How could it be so hard to tell the truth? All this time, I thought I knew her. Why lie? I am her daughter. She should trust me more than anyone else—because that’s what I did. I trusted her, believed in her, because she’s my mother.

Mother reached for my hand as tears streamed down her face. "All I wanted was to protect you," she said, her voice breaking. "If I lied, if I hid something, know that it was for your own good."

How is lying to me for my own good? I wanted to question my mother, to demand answers, but seeing how broken she looked, I found myself holding back. It was hard to justify her reasoning, but maybe... just maybe, she was right.

I had to hope that whatever she was doing, she was doing it to protect me. Still, the desire to know the truth burned inside me. Does wanting answers make me a bad daughter?

"You are very precious to us, Coraline," she said with sincerity. "I would never do anything to harm you. Just trust me, okay?"

That conversation occupied my mind the entire night and well into the morning. I hated being lied to. I hated secrets. But then again, this was my mother. How could I hate her? How could I not trust her?

As I visited the training field, murmurs and whispers pulled me from my thoughts. "They say Anastasia must have joined the witches in the East," someone said.

Fresh memories from my training flooded back. Anastasia had been the one to teach me everything I knew—archery, fencing, judo, and so much more. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be who I am today. The idea of her betrayal hurt deeply, cutting through the trust I’d built with her over the years. How could someone I respected and admired so much turn against us so easily?

Another voice chimed in. "She must have been fed up with the Alpha’s constant rejections. But I also heard she has a witch lineage. It’s not shocking, really."

I frowned, a witch lineage? It wasn’t unheard of, but witches and werewolves rarely saw eye to eye. Some packs had witches among them, but alliances were fragile, driven by necessity rather than genuine harmony. Both races had their own ambitions, goals, and objectives that often clashed—much like our long-standing conflict with vampires.

My thoughts raced. If Anastasia felt rejected, would that justify her betrayal? Maybe partly, but still, it wouldn’t excuse everything. Betrayal isn’t something you can just forgive.

I just hoped she wouldn’t do something catastrophic, like infiltrating the pack or, worse, placing a curse on the Alpha. If the rumors were true, the witches in the East were known to be ruthless and vengeful, the kind of adversaries you didn’t want to provoke.

"What will happen to Nick now?" one of the gossipers murmured. "His mate left him, betrayed the pack, and joined the enemy."

I had intended to inspect Anastasia’s garden, but these whispered conversations kept me rooted in place. Nick... Anastasia’s mate. Had he really been left behind, uninvolved in her betrayal?

What must Nick be feeling now? Mates were supposed to be bound by loyalty and love, yet his had turned her back on everything. I sighed, Anastasia had meant so much to all of us. How could it have come to this?