The Truth They Buried

The fire in the hearth snapped and hissed, sending restless shadows crawling along the wooden walls of Zane’s cabin.

The space around me was bare in a way that felt intentional rather than neglected. Blades of different sizes were mounted with careful precision above a long table. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the rafters, their bitter, earthy scent thick in the air. Shelves bowed under the weight of ancient books that looked as though they might crumble if handled too roughly.

Nothing about this place was accidental.

Everything spoke of discipline. Of solitude. Of someone who had spent decades preparing for something no one else knew was coming.

I sat stiffly in the worn armchair opposite him, my fingers curled tightly around the wooden armrests until my knuckles burned white.

Zane’s earlier question still lingered between us, heavy and inescapable.

Do you know what you are?

My gaze dropped to the book resting open across his knees as he turned another brittle page.

“They were rare,” he said after a moment, voice quiet but steady. “And with rarity came danger.”

My throat felt dry when I spoke. “Dangerous how?”

His eyes lifted to mine, ancient and knowing.

“Power without restraint has always been a threat,” he replied simply.

He angled the book toward the firelight so I could see the faded illustration stretched across its pages. Wolves massive and monstrous were locked in violent combat. Their bodies seemed to shimmer with streaks of silver and shadow that bled into the parchment itself.

“The Moon Blessed were meant to guide our kind,” Zane continued. “To protect the balance between wolves and the world around them. Guardians. Watchers.”

His mouth tightened slightly.

“But some began to believe their strength made them superior to the wolves that came after them. The Alphas. The Betas. The Omegas.”

My stomach twisted as I stared at the image.

“They forgot why they had been created in the first place.”

He turned the page again.

Have you ever heard of them?

The question settled into me like a stone.

“No,” I admitted quietly. “Should I have?”

A strange expression crossed his face something caught between regret and grim understanding.

“Your adoptive family made certain you wouldn’t.”

He rose from his seat and crossed the room slowly, pulling another leather-bound book from a high shelf. Its spine was cracked with age, the surface worn smooth from centuries of use.

“The Moon Blessed were the first wolves,” he said as he returned. “Born directly from the Moon Goddess herself, before the lesser bloodlines were ever created.”

He opened the text with careful reverence.

Pages filled with unfamiliar script stared back at me. An ancient language I couldn’t begin to understand.

But the illustrations needed no translation.

Towering wolves with silver fur stood beside a luminous female figure wrapped in moonlight. Their eyes burned with an unnatural glow that seemed almost alive even now.

“They were stronger than any Alpha,” Zane murmured. “Faster than thought. Capable of healing wounds that should have been fatal. They could command lesser wolves with nothing more than their voice.”

His gaze hardened.

“And they could shape moonlight itself.”

A chill crept along my spine.

“There were wars,” he said quietly. “Entire packs wiped from existence. The earth ran red with wolf blood for generations.”

I swallowed hard as the weight of it pressed down on me.

“So the Moon Goddess made a choice. She stripped them of their immortality. Sealed their bloodline away.”

The cabin fell silent except for the crackle of the fire.

“One by one,” he finished, “they died.”

He closed the book with a soft, final sound.

“Within two hundred years, they were believed extinct.”

My pulse roared in my ears.

“They’re not extinct,” I whispered.

“No,” he agreed.

His stare held mine without wavering.

“If the wrong wolves were to discover what you are, they would hunt you without hesitation. That seal placed on your power is the only thing that has kept you alive this long.”

My mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

“They were protecting you,” Zane continued when I said nothing. “In their own way.”

A hollow laugh scraped its way up my throat.

“By letting everyone believe I was broken?” I asked bitterly. “By letting them mock me? Letting my own pack look at me like I was worthless?”

Images flashed behind my eyes.

The whispers.

The pity.

The scorn.

The rejection.

“They even let Darian believe it,” I said, my voice cracking around his name.

Zane didn’t try to soften the truth.

“That was the price they chose.”

I pushed to my feet, unable to stay seated any longer, my chest tight with something dangerously close to rage.

My steps carried me toward the window before I even realized I was moving.

Outside, the forest stretched into darkness.

Somewhere beyond it lay Silvermere territory.

My home.

My adoptive family was probably sleeping peacefully now, relieved that the embarrassment of my failure had finally been removed from their sight.

They had no idea what they’d forced into the wilderness tonight.

“Who sealed me?” I demanded, turning back sharply. “Why?”

Zane exhaled slowly as he lowered himself into his chair once more.

“I don’t know for certain,” he admitted. “But whoever did it possessed tremendous power. Someone who knew what you were from the moment you were born.”

Someone capable of hiding me in plain sight within a pack that would never suspect the truth.

Ice flooded my veins.

“My adoptive family,” I said.

His silence was answer enough.

“Perhaps,” he allowed after a moment. “Though it’s unlikely every one of them knew.”

I looked back out into the darkness beyond the glass.

“So they knew when they took me in,” I murmured.

“All this time… they knew exactly what I was.”

Behind me, the fire continued to burn.

And for the first time, I understood that the life I’d lost tonight had never truly been mine to begin with.