V

I felt irritated. Lincoln had been trying to argue with me since we left that Council meeting. I couldn't help wishing he had never grown up; as a child, he always agreed with me. Although I was proud of his conviction, his stance bothered me deeply.

“That's if my mate is a renegade, Lincoln. The Moon Goddess has made me wait so long that I doubt she would give me a renegade as a mate. That would be fucking unfair.” I snatched the bouquet from him.

I walked straight to the door of the packing house and left the flowers there. Before leaving, I scratched the word “RAVEN” on the door with my claws until the word was illegible, covered in deep marks.

“Let's go,” I said to Lincoln, returning to the car.

“Logan,” he called after me. I sighed but didn't turn around.

"Let's end this conversation, Lincoln. I'm not going to change my mind. As much as he is your brother, I am also your Alpha, and you have to respect my decision.“ I said through clenched teeth, and finally got into the car.

Lincoln followed me and sat down next to me. He let out a deep sigh and rolled down the window. Lincoln was applying the ”silent treatment" again, his usual method of showing disapproval.

“Why do you sympathize so much with the renegades, Lincoln?” I asked, my tone turning serious. He looked at me with a blank expression.

“Because our mother taught us that, Logan. I never understood your hatred for the renegades because you never bothered to explain why. How do you think our mother would feel if she found out that her son hates his own kind?”

I swallowed hard, gripping the steering wheel. The anger subsided, replaced by a pang of guilt and pain.

If only it were that damn easy. If only I had the courage to tell Lincoln the truth about what happened to our parents and Kylie.

***

Blair

I fell onto the cold, damp floor, the impact reminding me of the persistent pain in my body.

I was unceremoniously thrown into this narrow, foul-smelling cage, which I shared with other renegades. The smell of dampness, sweat, and a metallic trace of old blood invaded my senses, an unpleasant familiarity.

The four warriors from the pack who had captured me remained outside the cage, standing tall and vigilant. A minute had passed and no one had spoken a word, but their quick, meaningful glances indicated that they were communicating through their mental bond.

I saw the leader of the warriors nod slowly. My throat closed up; I could only imagine they were discussing the most effective methods of torturing me.

“Be nice, renegade. You're lucky to have a day to appreciate your life,” said the leader, with a slight smile that suggested he found it amusing to see me locked up.

Shortly after, the warriors left the basement. I waited until the sound of their footsteps faded before slowly getting up. I leaned against the wall of the cage, trying to collect my thoughts. I had to find a way to escape. This time, however, I didn't have Kendrick as an ally, and that harsh truth made my hope falter.

“Hello! How's it going?”

I turned abruptly when I heard the whisper. I saw a woman who looked a few years older than me. She was watching me with a strange intensity, as if she were memorizing every one of my features, which made me deeply uncomfortable.

“Um, hello,” I replied cautiously.

Trusting a renegade is a death sentence. If I let my guard down, she would likely sink her claws into me.

“I'm Elena, what's your name?” the woman said, introducing herself.

I felt a pang of suspicion. Elena smiled at me as if we weren't prisoners, as if we weren't locked in this small cage that was barely big enough to hold us. I saw absolutely no reason to smile.

“B-Blair,” I replied quietly. The broad smile on her lips made me frown.

“Why are you smiling?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I couldn't understand how she could keep that expression, knowing that at any moment the warriors would burst in to take us to the torture chambers.

“No, I'm just surprised you answered. I've been here since last night and the other renegades won't talk, no matter how hard I've tried to start a conversation. I guess they're pretty exhausted from the beatings and torture,” Elena replied.

I swallowed hard at the word “torture.” I looked around; it was obvious that the other prisoners had been brutally beaten. Their eyes were swollen, and their faces and lips were covered with fresh bruises.

“What about you?” I asked, curious. Unlike the others, Elena seemed relatively unharmed. The warriors didn't seem to have done anything physical to her.

“What about me?” she asked, evading the question.

“What have they done to you since they captured you?”

Elena took a deep breath. Slowly, she lifted the white T-shirt she was wearing. It was so covered in mud and grime that its original color was barely noticeable.

“Oh my God,” I covered my mouth. My eyes widened in disbelief. Elena showed me her back: it was covered in fresh, deep wounds. I could feel the pain she must have endured just by looking at those lacerations.

I felt sorry for her, for what those damn warriors had done to her, but above the pity, fear took hold of me. At any moment, I would face the same fate, or perhaps a worse one.

“You're healing very slowly, Elena,” I remarked, noticing that the wounds were not closing. One of the advantages of being a wolf is rapid healing.

Elena shrugged as she pulled down her shirt and turned to face me again.

“That's because I wasn't born a werewolf,” she replied quietly, almost whispering, as if she didn't want the other prisoners to hear her confession.

“What do you mean you weren't born a werewolf?” I asked, my face reflecting my confusion. I had no idea what she was talking about.

“I was originally a witch. My mother is the leader of a pagan religion that practices witchcraft. She was experimenting with a spell to turn our kind into werewolves. She used it on me first. We thought it had been a success, but it wasn't.”

I could only stare at her, my brow furrowed as I considered whether or not to believe her incredible story.

I could hardly believe the story she had just told me. As far as I knew, witches and vampires were little more than historical myths, long extinct or exiled.

“You're joking, right? Witches don't exist, at least not for decades.” I replied to Elena, forcing a hollow laugh.

Maybe she was bored, or maybe she just wanted to believe a fantastical story to escape the harsh reality we faced.

“It's ironic that you should say that. Werewolves exist, so what makes you think witches don't?” Elena asked me.

I shook my head. Only werewolves still existed, while witches and vampires had been exiled for reasons that were still a mystery to most.

“Yeah, and maybe vampires exist too,” I said, and I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows when I saw her nod seriously.

“Stop fooling around, Elena. Witches and vampires don't exist. As far as I know, they disappeared a long time ago.” I wasn't going to let her inject those ideas into my mind. My mother had told me the stories, but the mystery about their fate remained.

"They haven't gone away completely. You'd be surprised how many witches are still in the coven,“ Elena told me. I didn't know if she was a brilliant actress, but the conviction in her voice made me want to believe her.

”If you're a witch, why don't you heal yourself?“ I asked her question after question, the doubt palpable in my voice. ”Why don't you use your magic to escape this prison?"

I was suddenly startled to see a flash of sadness in her eyes, though it lasted only a second before her expression became completely inert.

"When my mother tried to turn me into a werewolf, our ancestors were angry with me. They forbade me from using my magic forever. Now I am an exiled witch, and I can only transform into a werewolf during the full moon. Basically, I'm nothing right now,“ Elena replied with a hint of melancholy.

I could see that there was a glimmer of truth in her expression, but after all the bad things I had experienced, I found it almost impossible to trust or believe anyone's story.

”I don't know why you're telling me all this, Elena. That information can't help us escape this prison,“ I complained, kicking the cage door, praying internally for the lock to magically open.

I felt discouraged. I had believed that freedom was within my grasp.

”I don't know why I'm telling you either. Maybe I just wanted to talk to someone today. I don't want to die without telling someone my little secret." Elena took a deep breath and leaned against the wall of her cage on the opposite side.

Elena didn't speak to me again. I didn't bother to either. I was too exhausted from everything that had happened to me to continue the conversation. I closed my eyes, focusing on the uncomfortable cold of the floor, waiting for the inevitable