LOGINHey, my loves! It's Lady P❣️ here. 💋 We are officially 27 chapters into our journey, and the truth keeps getting deeper. 🔥 Elara's father has confessed. He knew about the corporations. He knew about the Council. He stayed silent because he was afraid. But he also revealed something new: there is a second journal. A journal that Elara's mother hid in the capital, under the altar of the old temple. What is in that journal? What did her mother really know? And what will Elara find when she goes to the capital? What do YOU think is coming next? Drop your theories in the comments, I read EVERY single one! 👀💭 This story is only getting more intense, and I promise you, the twists are just getting started. So keep voting, keep commenting, and let's make this journey unforgettable together. ❤️ Your girl, Lady P❣️
We moved through the capital like ghosts, sticking to the shadows, sticking to the alleys, sticking to the places where the light didn't reach. The city was quiet this late at night, the kind of quiet that made every sound feel too loud, every footstep feel like a shout. The wind carried the smell of cold stone and smoke, and somewhere in the distance, a dog was barking. Xavia walked in front, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his eyes scanning every corner. My mother walked beside me, her hand wrapped around my arm, her breath coming fast and shallow. She was scared. I could feel it in the way she held me, in the way her fingers dug into my skin, but she didn't say a word. She just kept walking. The temple rose in front of us like a mountain, its spire cutting into the night sky. It was ancient. Older than the Council. Older than the packs. It had been built before the bond system, before the Alphas, before everything. It had been built when wolves were free. And now, it w
The wanted poster sat between us like a death sentence, my face staring up from the paper, my name printed beneath it in bold, black letters. We had spent the rest of the night in silence. Xavia watched the window, my mother slept in the corner, and I sat against the wall with my knees drawn up to my chest, staring at the paper in my hands. My face stared back at me. The same face I had seen in the mirror a thousand times, the same face that had been rejected in front of three hundred wolves, the same face that had been exiled and erased and forgotten. And now, it was on a wanted poster. Ten thousand gold. That was what I was worth to them. Not a person, not a healer, not a daughter, just a bounty, just a target, just a number. By the time the sun rose, I had made my decision. "We go tonight," I said. Xavia turned to look at me, his jaw tight. "You can't be serious." "I'm very serious. They know we're here, which means we don't have time to wait. If we delay, they'll find u
The clearing went quiet after my father spoke, no one moved, no one breathed—the words hung in the air like smoke, thick and choking. The capital. Hidden in the old temple. Under the altar. I stared at him, my mind racing. The capital. The heart of the Council's power. The place where everything was controlled, where every decision was made, where every wolf was watched. Going there was suicide. We all knew it, but the journal was there, the truth was there, and I was not going to stop until I found it. "How do you know this?" I asked, my voice steady. "She told me," he said. "Before they took her. She said if anything ever happened to her, if she was ever captured, I was to find the journal and protect it. She said it was the only thing that could bring them down." "Then why didn't you go get it?" He looked away. "I was afraid." "Of course you were." "Elara—" "No." I held up my hand, and he stopped. "I'm not doing this again. I'm not listening to another apology, I'm
The camp went still. No one spoke. No one moved. The fire crackled, the wind blew, and the world kept turning, but in the clearing, everything had stopped. My mother stood frozen at the edge of the circle, her hand still raised where she had been shading her eyes. Remy and Lena had gone quiet. Even the rogue wolves, who had seen and survived things that would break most wolves, had gone still. And Xavia was there. He had moved to the edge of the clearing when we arrived, close enough to watch, far enough to give us space. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight, his amber eyes fixed on my father. He did not speak. He did not intervene. He just stood there, a steady presence at the edge of my vision, ready if I needed him. I stood in front of my father, the paper in my hand, his name staring back at him. He had not moved since I showed it to him. He had not looked away. He just sat there on the log, his blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his hands shaking i
Morning broke gray and cold over the mountains, the sun hidden behind thick clouds, the fire long dead, the camp still quiet. I woke slowly, my body stiff from sleeping on the hard ground, my mind foggy from a sleep that had not been restful. For a long moment, before the memories caught up with me, I felt normal. I felt whole. I felt like I had before the rejection, before the exile, before the second bond, before everything. Then I remembered. The emptiness hit me like a wave. It was not the sharp pain of the bond breaking, not the tearing sensation that had ripped through me the night before. It was something quieter and deeper, a hollow space where something used to be, a silence where there used to be a hum. I lay there for a long moment, staring up at the gray sky, trying to understand what it meant to be without the bond. Trying to understand what it meant to be without him. I sat up slowly and looked around. The others were still asleep. My mother was curled against my fath
I felt it go. It started as a pull, deep in my chest, like a thread being yanked from somewhere behind my ribs. Then it became a tear, slow and ragged, and I doubled over as the pain ripped through me, my hands flying to my chest, my breath catching in my throat, my knees buckling beneath me. Xavia was there before I hit the ground, his arms catching me, his voice sharp with fear. "Elara. Elara, look at me." I couldn't. I couldn't see. I couldn't breathe. The bond was breaking, strand by strand, and every strand that snapped took a piece of me with it. I felt him through it. His fear. His confusion. His love. All of it rushing through me at once, and then fading, fading, fading. And then, nothing. The bond was gone. I don't know how long we stayed like that, him holding me, me shaking in his arms. The night was cold and still around us, the fire had burned down to embers, and the others were asleep, unaware of what was happening just a few feet away. Finally, I pulled back. I lo







