Chapter 2: The Midnight Exile

(Sierra's POV)

The rain was relentless. It slammed against the thin glass of our small cabin window, rattling the wooden frame like a threatening hand.

I sat on the edge of my narrow bed, clutching my knees to my chest. Every breath felt like swallowed glass. The rejection mark on my collarbone burned hot and angry, pulsing in time with my hammering heartbeat.

"Here, drink this," Liana whispered.

She pressed a chipped mug of warm water into my hands. Her fingers were trembling, but her eyes held a steady, fierce light. Liana was only sixteen, two years younger than me, but tonight she looked like the only grounded thing in my world.

"I can't, Liana," I choked out, my voice raw. "It hurts too much."

"You have to," she insisted softly, sitting down beside me and placing her hand over mine.

A gentle warmth seeped from her palm into my skin. It was faint—just a small trick of her minor gift—but it helped dull the jagged edges of the emotional pain tearing through me. Liana didn't have a combat wolf, and her magic was weak compared to the pack's elite, but she could feel emotions and soothe small aches.

"He didn't deserve you, Sierra," Liana said, her jaw tightening. "Neither of them do. Sarah planned this. I saw the way she looked at Logan weeks ago."

"I was so blind," I whispered, staring down at the cloudy water. "I thought she was my sister. I thought Logan loved me."

"They're monsters," Liana spat. "And Father is a coward for standing by and letting them do this to you."

Before I could answer, the front door was kicked wide open.

Cold wind and rain poured into the tiny room, instantly extinguishing the candle on the nightstand. Heavy boots stomped against the floorboards as three tall figures stepped inside.

Beta Brandon stood in the doorway, drenched in rain, a cruel sneer plastered across his face.

Behind him were two heavy-set pack guards holding iron-tipped pikes.

"Pack up, trash," Brandon barked, wiping water from his eyes. "Alpha's orders. You're out."

Liana immediately stood up, stepping between Brandon and my bed. "What are you talking about? Father said we could stay in the lower cabins until morning!"

"Father doesn't run this pack," Brandon scoffed, stepping closer. "Lady Sarah had a nightmare. She told Alpha Logan that having an unbonded rogue so close to the main house makes her feel unsafe. So, Alpha Logan moved your deadline up. You have five minutes to cross the pack border, or we hunt you as trespassers."

My blood ran cold. "It's pitch black outside! The Shadow Forest is full of wild rogues and beasts!"

"Then I suggest you run fast," Brandon laughed.

He reached out and grabbed my arm, yanking me off the bed. My knees buckled, and I hit the wooden floor hard. The rejection mark flared with blinding agony, pulling a ragged scream from my throat.

"Leave her alone!" Liana screamed.

She lunged at Brandon, shoving him with all her weight. Her minor magic flared—a small burst of pressure that actually forced the heavy Beta back half a step.

Brandon blinked in surprise, then his face twisted in rage. "You little bitch."

He raised his hand, backhanding Liana with enough force to send her sliding across the floor into the wall. She gasped, clutching her bruised cheek as blood trickled from her lip.

Seeing my sister bleeding on the floor sent something shattering inside me.

The grief and agony in my chest suddenly turned white-hot. A strange, metallic taste filled my mouth. Deep within my veins, something ancient and heavy woke up, churning like a dark sea.

No one touches my sister.

My vision tinged crimson. I didn't yell. I didn't cry. I just glared at Brandon from the floor, my fingers digging into the rough floorboards.

Brandon took a step toward Liana, raising his heavy leather boot. "I'll teach you some respect—"

STOP.

I didn't say the word out loud. I thought it with every drop of rage in my body.

Instantly, Brandon froze in place.

His raised foot hovered in the air. The cruel smile on his face vanished, replaced by sudden, wide-eyed terror. The two guards behind him gasped, dropping their pikes as they clutched their throats, squirming as if their blood had suddenly turned to ice in their veins.

"What... what is this?" Brandon choked out, his voice thin and panicked. He couldn't move a muscle. He was completely paralyzed, his eyes darting frantically toward me.

I stared at my own hands. My veins were glowing with a faint, dark red light beneath my skin. I could feel their heartbeats—not just hear them, but feel the warm fluid pumping through their bodies. And somehow, my mind was gripping it, holding them still.

"Sierra..." Liana whispered from the corner, her eyes wide as she looked at me. She could feel the sudden surge of terrifying power rolling off my body.

The strain of holding three heavy wolves was immense. My head throbbed, and a thin line of blood began to drip from my nose. I knew I couldn't hold this mysterious power for long.

"Liana," I rasped, my voice sounding strange and layered. "Get your coat. Now."

Liana didn't hesitate. She scrambled to her feet, grabbed our wool coats and the small leather sack containing our mother's old diary, and threw them over her shoulders.

I took a deep breath and broke the mental grip.

The three men collapsed to the floor at once, gasping for air and coughing violently as if they had just been pulled from underwater.

"Run!" I yelled.

I grabbed Liana's hand, and together we sprinted out of the cabin, diving headfirst into the freezing rain and the pitch-black shadows of the forest.

Behind us, I could hear Brandon's furious roar echoing through the trees: "Guards! Sound the alarm! Hunt them down!"

As we ran through the mud, the thorns tearing at our clothes, I held Liana's hand tightly. My heart was pounding, but for the first time all night, the burning rejection mark didn't hurt as much.

I didn't know what had just happened in that cabin. I didn't know why my blood had answered my rage. But as the distant howls of the Bloodmoon hunters filled the night air, one thing was crystal clear:

I was done being the victim.