Chapter 4

"Marcus?" Arthur frowned. "That exiled lunatic? What about him?"

I turned to face him, my eyes on the still-sobbing Leo in his arms.

"Marcus also had a doting mother," I said flatly. "She indulged his every whim, made excuses for his every mistake. In the end, Marcus became a monster his own pack feared."

Arthur's expression turned dangerous. "What are you implying?"

"I'm warning you," I said, my gaze level. "Calista's coddling is poisoning him. If you don't want him to become the next Marcus, you'd better start correcting him now."

"Enough!" Arthur shot to his feet. "What right do you have to lecture us? You were gone for three years! You know nothing about how he's grown up!"

His voice rose, his eyes burning with fury.

"And where were you for three years?" he sneered. "Taken by rogues? And you came back... completely unharmed?"

As he spoke, Calista let out a pained whimper and swayed.

"Arthur... I... I went to the shaman. I saw..." Her face was pale, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at me.

Her eyes were filled with a mixture of pity and horror. "Sister... you poor, poor thing... Those rogues... they... they held you in a filthy cell... the things they must have done to you..."

She trailed off, but her words were enough to paint the most vile picture in everyone's mind.

The wolves around me looked at me differently now.

The scrutiny turned to disgust and contempt.

In a pack that values blood purity above all else, being touched by a rogue is a stain worse than death.

"I wasn't," I said calmly. My voice wasn't loud, but it carried through the clearing.

But no one believed me.

To them, my composure was just numbness born of shame.

"Samara," Arthur's voice held a trace of satisfaction and condescending pity. "I know you're just putting on a brave face, saying you want to sever the bond. No matter what you went through, you are still Leo's mother. I will give you a place to stay. But you must cleanse yourself of your filth! And you are not to leave your room!"

He was putting me in a cage.

I laughed.

This was my mate. My pack.

They would rather believe a malicious lie than believe me.

I didn't attend the feast that night.

But I was soon "invited."

Guards burst into my room and dragged me to the main hall.

Calista was lying in Arthur's arms, foam at her lips, her body convulsing.

The shaman announced with a grave face, "Alpha, it's a dark curse. Someone wants to kill the Luna."

Arthur's gaze shot to me like a dagger. "Search her room!"

The guards quickly returned with a moonstone covered in curse symbols.

"Samara!" Arthur roared. "You defiled, venomous woman! How dare you try to harm Calista!"

"I didn't do it," I said calmly.

"Still denying it?" Arthur waved a hand. "Take her to the dungeons! Chain her with silver! Let her reflect on what she's done!"

The silver seared my skin, but I didn't fight back.

The dungeon was cold and damp.

In my first life, this cell would have broken me. I would have screamed and cried until my throat was raw.

This time, I closed my eyes and waited.

At the same time, I sent out a call through a mind link.

On the third night, the castle's foundations began to tremble violently.

A crushing Alpha presence descended from the sky.

It was like the wrath of a god, blanketing the entire Blackmoon Pack.

The castle's strongest gates exploded into dust with a deafening boom.

In the moonlight, a silver-haired Alpha sat astride a giant war wolf. Behind him, a hundred elite warriors stood in silent formation, an army of silver ghosts.

He looked down on the castle like a king surveying his domain.

The most powerful Alpha of the North, Rhys. He had come.

His voice was a low growl, yet it echoed through the castle stones with the weight of absolute command. "Arthur of Blackmoon," he said. "Release my Beta."