Chapter 2

Esme's POV

“Are you just going to stay there all day?”

Nora’s voice dragged me out of my thoughts. Morning light poured through the kitchen window, catching the smug tilt of her mouth. She was holding a cup of coffee like a queen, while I stood at the sink elbow-deep in dirty water.

“I finished the dishes,” I said. My voice sounded hollow even to me.

“Then go sweep the porch,” she said. “And when you’re done, Mother wants you to scrub the floors again. We’re having guests.”

Guests again. We are always having guests.

“Fine,” I muttered.

“What was that?” she asked sharply.

“I said fine,” I repeated louder.

She smirked. “Good girl. Maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. After last night, her words stung even more. My mate had rejected me in front of the entire pack. My life, already miserable, had somehow gotten worse.

But beneath the shame and heartbreak, that whisper I’d overheard wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.

I needed to know the truth about my bloodline.

*******

I waited until the house was quiet before slipping into Lydia’s room. She and Thomas were out meeting with the Alpha, and Nora and Eli were still asleep. My hands trembled as I opened drawers, searching for anything, papers, photos, anything that could tell me who I really was.

The bottom drawer of her dresser was locked. That alone made my pulse race. I grabbed a hairpin from the vanity and fiddled with the keyhole. It took a few tries, but it clicked open.

Inside were papers. Old ones that had birth records, adoption certificates, and letters. My breath caught when I saw my name.

Only… it didn’t have Hunter as the surname. The original name printed on the certificate was different.

Esme Delvin.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it might crack my ribs. Delvin? That name was legendary. That family had the Alpha of the Nightfall pack, the most powerful pack in the north. They were ruthless, untouchable, and feared by all.

And according to this paper… I was one of them.

“What are you doing?”

I froze. My heart jumped into my throat as I turned around. Lydia was standing in the doorway, her face pale with shock that quickly turned into something sharper.

“I… I was just cleaning,” I said, trying to slide the folded paper behind my back without making it obvious.

Her eyes narrowed. “Cleaning?” she repeated, stepping into the room. “Since when does cleaning involve checking through my private things?”

“I wasn’t checking your things,” I said quickly. “I was just….”

“Don’t lie to me!” she snapped, and the sound of her voice cracked through the air like a whip. “You were snooping.”

My mouth went dry. “I wasn’t…!!”

“Give it to me.” She held out her hand, palm open, eyes burning into me.

I hesitated, holding the paper tighter. I couldn’t let her see it.

“It’s nothing,” I mumbled, stepping back. “Just a piece of paper.”

Her gaze dropped to my hands, and the muscle in her jaw twitched. “Esme,” she said quietly, dangerously, “if you make me ask again, you will regret it.”

I swallowed hard and placed the folded page into her waiting palm. She snatched it from me and tucked it behind her without even looking at it. Then, without warning, her hand cracked across my face. The slap was hot and sudden.

I gasped, holding my cheek. “I said I was just….”

“Silence!” she hissed. “You dare touch my things? In my house?” She grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. “Do you think you have any right here? Do you think you can walk around like you matter?”

I stumbled after her as she dragged me across the room. “I’m sorry!” I cried. “I won’t do it again.”

“You won’t,” she said coldly. “Because I’m going to make sure you remember this.”

She shoved me to my knees in front of the old wooden chest she kept by the wall. “Scrub this floor until I can see my reflection in it and don’t you dare get up until I say so.”

“I already cleaned it this morning,” I said, my voice shaking.

“Then you can clean it again,” she said. “And again. Until you learn to keep your filthy hands off things that don’t belong to you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and lowered my head, grabbing the rag from the bucket. My palms were already raw from work, but she didn’t care. She never did.

Lydia stood over me for a long moment, arms crossed, watching as I dragged the wet cloth over the wood. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her what I’d seen, and demand answers. But I kept my mouth shut.

If she knew I’d read even a line of that paper, she’d destroy it or worse.

After a while, she turned to leave, pausing at the door. “Next time I catch you where you shouldn’t be,” she said, her voice low and cold, “you’ll wish all I did was make you scrub floors.”

The door slammed shut behind her, and I was alone again.

I pressed my forehead to the floor, my breath shaking. My cheek still burned from her slap, but it wasn’t the pain that made my chest ache. It was the words I’d managed to read before she came in.

********

I didn’t own much. A small bag, a few worn clothes, a comb, and that was it. By the time the sun dipped behind the trees, I was gone.

The forest around Shadow Pack was thick and quiet, the air heavy with pine and earth. My heart raced with every step. Fear and hope twisted inside me, fighting for space.

What if the papers were wrong? What if Lydia lied? What if my real family wanted nothing to do with me?

But then I remembered Rylan’s face as he rejected me. I remembered the laughter, the whispers, and the pity.

I had nothing left here.

It took hours to reach the border. The land shifted subtly. The trees were taller and the air was heavier. Even without signs, I knew I was close.

I slowed my steps, scanning the shadows between the trees. Everything looked the same yet something felt different.

Like I wasn’t alone.

I stopped walking and listened. For a long moment, there was only the sound of my own heartbeat. Then… I heard a crunch.

I turned quickly. There was nothing.

“Get a grip,” I whispered to myself. “It’s just nerves.”

But the prickling at the back of my neck wouldn’t go away. I started walking again, faster this time. A few steps later, I heard it again and it was closer this time.

“Who’s there?” I called, my voice sharper than I intended. The only answer was the wind.

I turned and broke into a run. I didn’t look back. I just ran until the air burned in my lungs and my legs threatened to give out.

Then — silence.

I slowed, panting, leaning against a tree. My heart hammered against my ribs. Maybe I was imagining it. Maybe fear was making me hear things.

I heard a step. I turned around. Something or someone moved just beyond the tree line. My stomach dropped. I wasn’t imagining it. Someone was following me.