CHAPTER FIVE

~ Anya ~

I couldn’t stay here.

The thought had been circling since I found the symbol under the chest, but now it sat solid in my chest. Blackthorn was a cage with familiar bars. Every hour I remained gave Garrick more time to tighten them.

Mira sat on the edge of my bed, arms crossed, watching me pack. I wasn’t taking much. A change of clothes. The few coins I had kept separate. Nothing that would slow me down.

“You’re actually doing this,” she said.

“I have to.”

“He already restricted you to the territory. If you leave without permission, he’ll treat it like a challenge.”

“I know.”

She dragged a hand through her hair. “Anya, listen to me. Whatever’s going on with you… this isn’t like you. You’ve always been the one who stayed and fixed things. Now you’re ready to walk into open hostility over a missing box and some old family mark?”

I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. Mira had been the closest thing I had to real loyalty in this pack. In my first life, she had tried to warn me more than once. I hadn’t listened then.

“I can’t explain everything,” I said. “Not yet. But I need you to trust that I’m not doing this out of spite or some sudden whim. If I stay, I lose more than my freedom.”

She held my gaze for a long moment, then exhaled. “At least let me come with you.”

“No. If this goes wrong, I don’t want you standing next to me when it does.”

Before she could argue further, a hard knock sounded at the door. One of the guards didn’t wait for permission.

“Alpha Garrick wants you. Now.”

The study smelled like woodsmoke and old leather. Garrick stood behind the desk, not sitting, as if sitting would somehow lessen the weight he wanted to press on me. Isolde was nowhere in sight this time. That almost made it worse. He didn’t need an audience when he was truly angry.

“Sit,” he said.

I remained standing.

His eyes narrowed. “You searched your room after the ceremony. You questioned Lydia about your grandmother’s belongings. And now I hear you’ve been asking about places that haven’t mattered in decades. Explain.”

“Someone stole from me,” I said. “I want it back.”

“A box of old papers and a pendant.” His voice was flat. “That is what you’re willing to create this much trouble over?”

“It belonged to my family.”

“Your family.” He came around the desk slowly. “Your grandmother’s side was never supposed to become a subject of discussion inside this pack. Do you understand that? There were reasons those matters were left alone.”

I caught the slip immediately. *Never supposed to become a subject of discussion.* That was not the language of a man who thought the box held worthless sentiment.

“What reasons?” I asked.

Garrick’s expression shut down. He realized, a second too late, that he had said more than he intended.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is that you are still under this pack’s authority. You rejected the bond. Fine. I will deal with that in time. But you do not get to dig into sealed history or leave the territory whenever it suits you. You will remain here until I say otherwise.”

“You don’t own me anymore.”

“I never needed a bond to own you, Anya.” The words landed hard and quiet. “You were useful. You are still useful. That has not changed simply because you decided to perform in front of the pack.”

I felt the old version of myself flinch somewhere deep inside. The new version only stared back at him.

“I’m leaving,” I said.

“You will not.”

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The guards outside the door were a reminder enough.

I turned and walked out before he could give another order. He let me go. That almost worried me more than if he had stopped me.

Back in my room, I finished packing in silence. Mira had waited. She didn’t ask what Garrick had said. She only watched my face and seemed to understand enough.

“There’s unrest near the eastern tree line,” she said quietly. “One of the patrols reported a wolf attacking another without warning. They put it down. Everyone’s calling it a rogue.”

I moved to the window. The sky was clear, but the moon already looked wrong. Too pale. Like someone had smudged its light with ash. In my first life, the real collapse had come later. The early signs had been quieter. Easier to dismiss.

This was earlier than it should have been.

“It’s starting,” I murmured.

Mira frowned. “What is?”

I didn’t answer. There were still too many things I couldn’t say out loud.

I left the room without looking back. The guards at the end of the corridor straightened when they saw me, but they didn’t move to stop me. Garrick had not yet given the full order to confine me to the building. That window would close soon.

I took the long route through the quieter side of the grounds, staying in the shadows where I could. My destination wasn’t far—an old storage structure near the outer training fields where I had once found records that no one thought important. If anyone still kept fragments of information about the older bloodlines, it would be there.

The door was unlocked.

I stepped inside and stopped.

A folded piece of paper sat on the crate directly in front of me. No dust on it. Someone had placed it there recently.

I picked it up. The handwriting was unfamiliar, sharp and controlled.

*Stop searching for your grandmother’s inheritance. If you reach Ebonreach, the people who killed your family will know you are still alive.*

I read it twice.

The cold that moved through me had nothing to do with the night air.

They hadn’t just hidden the inheritance.

They had killed to keep it buried.

And now they knew I was looking.