LOGINSyrn's POV I couldn't stay in that room for another second. The walls were beginning to feel like they were closing in, the silence loud enough to make me want to scream. I’d been laying low for weeks, a shadow in the corners of Eliott’s estate, doing everything I could to dampen the suspicions that clung to me like a foul scent. But I was done hiding."You're actually going?" Tilda asked, leaning against the doorframe of my wardrobe. She’d finally warmed up to me over these last few days, her icy distance melting into a strange, protective concern."I have to, Tilda," I said, reaching for a gown. "I’m rotting in here."Tilda walked over and grabbed my wrist, not hard, but firm enough to make me look at her. Her eyes were searching, desperate. "If you go down there and try to kill yourself again—if you pull another stunt like that—I’m leaving, Syrn. I’ll run away for good. I won't watch you destroy yourself anymore."My heart gave a painful thud against my ribs. "I’m not looking for
Reylap's POV Eliott stirred beside me, the heavy warmth of his body shifting as he sensed my wakefulness. He pulled me closer, his large hand splaying over my stomach, but the gesture felt different than it usually did. There was a rigid, vibrating tension in his arms, a stiffness that betrayed him."It’s alright," he whispered against my hair, his voice gravelly with sleep. "I’ve got you. You’re safe here, Reylap. Nothing is coming through that window."I didn’t answer. I couldn't. The reassurances felt hollow, like air being blown into a cracked vessel. I could tell by the way his muscles bunched that he didn't fully believe his own words anymore. He was as on edge as I was, his Alpha instincts screaming at him that our sanctuary had been breached.My mind raced, spiraling back through the horrors that had led us to this bed. I thought of the letter—that jagged, hateful handwriting. I thought of the poison, the acrid scent of it, and the poor boy who had died in my place by mistake
Elliott's POV The air in the room seemed to vanish the moment the words left her lips. *Could you kiss me?* I sat there, frozen, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped beast. Just seconds ago, while I had been massaging her legs, I’d felt a near-uncontrollable urge to slide my hands higher, to feel the heat of her inner thighs and pull her into me. I had held back out of sheer respect for her, for the fragile peace we were trying to build. But hearing her ask for it—hearing the vulnerability and the need in her voice—snapped something inside me.My wolf went feral. A low, primal growl started deep in my chest, a vibration of pure, possessive hunger. I wanted to claim her right there, to mark her and lose myself in the scent of her skin, but I forced the violence of that urge down. She was carrying my pup. She was delicate, and she deserved more than just my raw instinct."Reylap," I rasped, my voice sounding like gravel. I didn't give her a chance to retract the request or
Reylap POVThe heavy dinner in the great hall had done little to settle the storm in my nerves. I retreated to my room as quickly as I could, the silence of the corridor feeling more like an indictment than a relief. Navine wasn’t there to greet me; she had slipped out earlier with Camille. I knew the plan—Camille needed a shadow, someone to keep watch near the garden perimeter while she met with Ronan. It left me alone with my thoughts, which were far too loud for the quiet room.A sharp, sudden pressure bloomed in my abdomen. "Easy," I hissed, clutching my stomach. The pup had begun kicking again, but these weren't the soft flutters from a week ago. These were forceful, rhythmic jolts that made my breath hitch. Each strike felt like a reminder of everything at stake, and the discomfort radiated up my spine. I paced the small rug, but my body felt heavy, aching with a need that went beyond physical relief. I wanted—no, I yearned—to be held. I wanted the scent of pine and rain. I wan
Camille's POV "You are not wearing that rag for another minute, Reylap. I won't have it," I said, grabbing her by the elbow and steering her toward the market square. The visit to the Kael house had been heavy enough; the air there smelled of grief and stale incense. I needed color, I needed noise, and most importantly, I needed my friend to stop looking like she was trying to hide a whole human being inside a sack. Reylap stumbled slightly, her hand going to the swell of her stomach. "Camille, please. It’s just a dress. I can make it through the week. Besides, I'm not really in the mood for a spectacle." "It isn't a spectacle, it's basic physics," I countered, pulling her toward a row of brightly covered stalls. "None of your old dresses fit. You’re practically bursting at the seams, and I refuse to let you spend another week squeezed into clothes that weren't built for a body this far along. Look at you! You're glowing, but your seams are screaming." "They aren't screaming," she
Syrn's POV The ink on the parchment had been dry for days, but it felt like it was burning a hole through my mattress. I paced the length of my rug, my fingernails digging into my palms. It was supposed to be so simple. I had reached out to Morra with a very specific request. I needed a tragedy, something incurable, a slow-burning disaster that would land right in Reylap’s lap. The plan was for Reylap to swoop in with her insufferable "healing prowess," fail miserably, and be branded a murderer by the entire pack. "Damn it," I whispered, kicking the corner of my bed.I had tried to keep Rika out of it. I’d told her to stay away, to let the ‘professionals’ handle the sick child, thinking that if she stayed clear, I could whisper my poison into the ears of the elders without interference. But Rika had to be the hero. She had to get involved, and now the rhythm of the entire scheme was offThe child was dead. Late. Gone. And the worst part? No one was pointing a finger at Reylap. The
Elliott's POVI let the muttering fill the air, a low, dangerous hum that grated against my nerves. My jaw was locked so tight I felt the ache all the way to my ears. They talked in whispers, in hushed, cruel tones, but every word clawed at me. “Rogue.” “Danger.” “Outsider.” All aimed at her. All
“No." Farida’s smile thinned slightly. “I said, kneel.”I looked at her slowly, exhaustion twisting inside me so violently I almost started laughing again. “You stole my ceremony, my mate, my title, and now you want my dignity too?” I tilted my head. “Greedy.”A sharp murmur spread through the roo
Reylap’s POVI heard the music before I even reached the gates, and I knew it was a celebration. I could hear drums and voices and that particular kind of joy that carries across pack grounds when there's good news, and for one foolish, breathless second my heart lifted, because I thought it was fo
Reylap's POV“State your business!”The guard’s voice rang out through the drizzle just as I stepped up to the gates of Dark Moors Pack, and for a second, I genuinely thought he was joking.I stood there dripping from a miserable six-hour ride, mud clinging to the hem of my coat while my medical ba







