Vireya's POV
I gasped, my eyes snapping open. Darkness swallowed the room, but I quickly realized, this wasn’t heaven. I was still in our living room. Alive. My trembling hands flew to my neck, fingertips brushing the raw, bruised skin where the rope had been. I looked up, the wooden beam was splintered, the rope severed and dangling. That rope was too thick to break from my weight alone. I scanned the room. Nothing, no scent, no sound, no sign that anyone had entered. A shaky breath escaped my lips as I clutched my pounding head. I staggered to my feet, guided only by the pale moonlight spilling through the window. My body felt like lead, weak, empty, and starving, my throat burned with dryness. I stumbled into the kitchen and drank water. I set the cup down, and that’s when it happened. A sharp, agonizing crack split through my bones, my knees buckled. No. Not again. I screamed as the shift overtook me, my bones twisting, reshaping, skin tearing. The black wolf emerged, ruthless and wild, trapping my soul behind its eyes. She shoved the door open and bolted into the night, chaos erupted. Screams pierced the air as we charged down the street, faces blurred past us, terrified, fleeing. I begged her to stop, to turn back, but I was a prisoner in my own body. Then she lunged at a child, a small pup frozen in fear. “No!” I screamed inside. “Please don’t hurt him!” The boy’s scream shattered the night. Just then, a stone came flying through the air, striking my wolf’s side, her focus snapped away. The crowd scattered. Within seconds, the street was deserted, silent but for the sound of my wolf’s ragged breaths and my soul crying out from within her. After what felt like an eternity, the wolf receded. I shifted and collapsed onto the cold street, naked and trembling. I dragged myself to my feet, tears streaming, and ran back home. Straight to the kitchen. Straight to the knife, I grabbed it with shaking hands, lifted it to my chest, but the wolf surged within me and slammed my body against the wall. I gasped, crumpling to the floor. I tried again. And again. Each time, she stopped me, by force. Tossing me across the room. We battled each other all night. When the sun finally rose, my body was covered in cuts and bruises. Still, I stood, somehow. I wanted to apologize, to face the people, to take responsibility, but just as I reached the door, the enforcers arrived. They didn’t come close. Even armored and trained enforcers were scared of me, they kept their distance. Hands twitching near their weapons. “The Alpha summons you,” one of them said. “You are to present yourself at the castle.” I didn’t wait for them, I walked ahead. As I passed through the village, their words sharpened, bolder this time. “She’s cursed. Black as night.” “They should exile her before she slaughters more of us.” “Too beautiful to be trusted… that’s how demons hide in plain sight.” Then, thud. A stone hit my shoulder hard. I didn’t flinch or stop, my soul was already too torn to feel one more bruise. When I reached the castle, several wolves shadowed me, staying at a safe distance. I knelt before the gates, silent, head bowed. I waited. One hour. Two. Finally, the Beta emerged, face twisted with disgust. “The Alpha will not see you,” he barked. “The heartstone rejects your presence. You are not welcome here. Leave!” I rose on trembling legs and turned back, the walk home was worse. Stones, garbage, curses, rained down on me like a storm. I kept praying under my breath, begging the wolf within not to rise again, not here or now. I didn’t want to become their nightmare. “I always knew no ordinary werewolf could look like that,” a woman spat. “She’s using her beauty to bewitch us, to kill us like she did to her father.” Her words hit harder than the stones, so I stopped walking. Slowly, I turned, searching for the one who’d said it, but they had already fled, too frightened to face me. Cowards. I made it home, barely. Once again, I tried to end my life. Once again, I failed. The wolf inside me would not let me go. I lay on the floor for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling, numb. I couldn’t stay. Not when my presence risked more innocent lives, but leaving to another pack meant risking others too. Still, it was the only choice. I packed quietly, only what I needed to survive. The silks, the jewels, the pretty gifts that once meant something, were nothing to me now. I left them all. I scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen table for Siora: ‘Dearest Siora, I’m sorry for everything. Please stay in this house. Don’t sleep in people's kitchens or store rooms anymore. I promise I won’t return. Everything here is yours.’ When dusk fell, I pushed my small cart out the back, avoiding the main roads. I took the narrow path by the woods, when I reached the border, the guards didn’t question me, they were almost eager to see me go. So I walked. With no destination, no plan, no hope, Until I found an old, abandoned cottage nestled between the trees, hidden by time and ivy. It was perfect. Far enough that no pack member would be at risk, quiet enough for me to disappear, I made it home. The next day I heard a knock. No one should have known I was here, my heart pounded as I approached the door. Maybe the pack members found me and wanted to kill me. I opened it, just enough to see Zevarion. I stared, wide-eyed. “How did you find me?” voice cracking. “Don’t you know I’m cursed? Please… leave.” He didn’t flinch. “You’re not cursed, Vireya.” “Please…” I begged, my throat tight. “Just go.” He didn’t argue. “I’ll leave these here,” he said gently, placing a basket on the steps. And then he turned and walked away, I waited until he was gone. When I stepped outside, my hands trembling, I looked into the basket. Food, fresh bread, roasted meat, soap, bandages, even a blanket. A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. I felt seen, not feared or hated. Just… remembered. The following week, Zevarion returned. He didn’t knock or call out. Just left another basket on the doorstep. It became a tradition, his quiet visits, my silent gratitude. I never opened the door, never let him see me or say a word. It was the only way I knew how to protect him. He was the last thread tethering me to the world. If I let him get too close, I might snap and drag him into my darkness. I thought, eventually, he’d stop trying, but he didn’t. Even after months, even after seasons changed and the cold crept into my bones, Zevarion still came, always alone with something useful. Always with hope. During the full moons, my wolf would rise and hunt. She rarely spared rogues who wandered too close. The main pack knew this, they avoided the borders during the lunar peaks. And so, time slipped by. A year passed in silence and solitude, then came my birthday. I heard a soft knock, then his voice. “Happy birthday, Vireya,” Zevarion said gently. “Please… open the door. Let me know you're okay.” I stood on the other side, hand hovering over the doorknob, heart breaking, but I couldn’t. I didn’t trust myself. “Say something, Vireya,” he pleaded. What could I say? That I missed him? That I dreamed of him every night? That my soul still ached to be touched, to be loved? “I... okay,” he breathed. “Then just… tap on the door twice, let me know it's still you.” I reached out and tapped, softly twice. He exhaled, a sound full of relief and unspoken emotion. “I’ll keep coming… until you come out to see me.” I waited until he walked away, then I peeked through the window. I smiled, a small fragile smile, the kind you give when you’ve forgotten how. Another year passed. I lived off what he brought, never asking for it, but always needing it. I survived. My world was the same: small, quiet, haunted. Until one night, I lay in my makeshift bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling, wondering if this was all I’d ever be. Then I heard footsteps, not one or two, many. I bolted upright, breath caught in my throat, then there was silence. Suddenly there was a thunderous kick that shattered my door, the wood crashing to the floor. A tall figure stepped into the cottage, shadowed and silent. I froze, my heart roared in my chest. Something was coming, and I had no idea if I'd survive it. Or if I even wanted to.Vireya's POV By the next morning, I felt stronger. The wounds had vanished, leaving behind only scars, a temporary reminder of pain. But even those, I knew, would soon fade.After dressing, I asked Siora to send a message to Zevarion. I needed to see him.“Tell him to meet me near the garden this evening,” I said, already feeling my pulse quicken at the thought.As the sun began to set, I made my way to the garden. The scent of lavender drifted in the breeze, mixing with the earthy fragrance of dusk. I stood beneath our tree, its branches rustling above me like a whispering secret. My fingers fidgeted, my breath shallow as I paced, quietly rehearsing the words I wanted to say.And then, I saw him.My heart skipped. The necklace pulsed at my throat, sharp and warning, like it sensed what I was about to do.The moment he reached me, the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.“I want you to make love to me.”He froze, his eyes widened, stunned.Honestly I froze too, th
Vireya's POVThe healer arrived, but not the one I was expecting. The old woman who almost told me the truth. He didn’t send her, despite all the chaos and suffering.That woman, it seemed, was kept for darker things, afflictions beyond flesh. The kind that clawed at the mind or bled through dreams.Instead, a younger healer came. One of the house’s quiet servants, her presence familiar but foreign, her scent tinged with the crispness of another pack. She moved with practiced grace, her fingers cool as she applied a salve to the raw, torn skin across my back.The sting was instant, fiery, sharp, and I bit down a scream. Gods, it reeked. Like scorched bark and crushed roots left too long in the sun.“Nyra,” I muttered through the haze of pain, “you wicked little viper. You’ll regret ever laying hands on me. I’ll make sure of it.”The healer said nothing, only handed me a bitter brew. It tasted like ash and sorrow, but I swallowed it down. I managed to eat a few spoonfuls of food while
Vireya's POV After they flogged me that evening, they left me there, hanging from the ceiling like some lifeless creature. My wrists screamed in pain, swollen and torn where the restraints bit into my skin.But all I could think about was Zevarion.He would go to our tree and wait, not knowing why I hadn't come. He’d worry, I knew he would. That thought cut deeper than any whip.The night dragged into morning. Hunger clawed at my stomach, thirst dried my throat to dust, and pain pulsed through every inch of me. My back burned from the lashes, raw, open, and sizzling from the silver-tipped ends.By afternoon, the door creaked open. Nyra stepped in, flanked by two guards, her expression carved from ice.“Well,” she said, circling me like a vulture. “Still stubborn, I see. But I’m in a merciful mood. Apologize, and I’ll let you go.”“Come closer,” I whispered, barely lifting my head.She smirked and leaned in.I gathered the last of my strength and spat directly into her face. The guard
Zevarion’s POV I waited beneath the tree where we always met, where her scent still lingered in the bark, where the moonlight used to dance in her eyes, but tonight, she didn’t come.The hours stretched, slow and heavy, and a restless cold began to settle over my skin. Something was wrong. Vireya had never missed a night after she returned. Our secret moments beneath the stars were all we had, our escape, our solace, our shared breath in a world that hunted us both. Still, I waited.When the sky bled into the early hours, I finally returned to my room, my thoughts a storm. What if she found out? That the chain of thorns she bore, the curse that lashed her with every heartbeat hurt me too? Is she keeping her distance to protect me?Vireya would endure agony without hesitation if it meant sparing someone she loved. She’s done it time and again.But ever since I told her how I feel, something shifted. The night I confessed, she gripped her chest in sudden pain, her body trembling as th
Vireya's POVThe pain came suddenly, violent, searing, and unlike anything I had ever felt.I gasped and recoiled, pulling away from Zevarion as agony erupted in my chest. My fingers flew to my neck.The chain. The cursed chain! The thorns that encircled it twisted cruelly, biting deeper into my skin.“Vireya?” Zevarion’s voice was thick with worry as he leaned toward me. “What’s happening? Are you hurt?”I tried to speak, but no words came. The pain gripped tighter, spreading from my throat into my chest. It wasn't just physical, it felt as if the thorns were clawing into my very heart.I clutched my chest, gasping for breath, my body trembling.“Vireya, please, how do I help you?” Zevarion moved closer, panic on his face.With a shaky hand, I gestured for him to step back. My fingers trembled as I waved him away.“You want me to… step back?” he asked, voice uncertain, torn.I nodded, barely able to keep my eyes open.Hesitantly, he stood and moved a few paces away, never taking his
Vireya's POV Xareth conquered them, merciless, calculated, and cruel. As always, he forced my wolf to claim the Heartstone.But instead of slaughtering the remaining shadow hunters, he did something worse, he gave them a choice."Now that your leader lies broken beneath my feet," Xareth declared, his voice a venomous purr, "you have two paths: bow to me and fight under my command, or I raze this land to ash and take your women and children as spoils."The threat hung in the air like the stench of blood. He knew exactly what he was doing. Their strength, their ferocity, he wanted them in his army. And by invoking their women and children, he was cornering them into submission with a twisted sense of mercy.The second-in-command exchanged tense whispers with the others. Then, he stepped forward, spine straight despite the defeat, pride bleeding from every inch of him."We will go with you," he said, his voice gravelly with grief, "but our women and children must remain to bury the dead