로그인I don't remember leaving the pack grounds.
One minute I'm on that platform, choking on my own vomit, and the next I'm in my room with my dad shoving clothes into a bag. My hands still won't stop shaking. My whole body shakes. It's like the rejection burned through everything—muscles, bones, the part of me that used to feel warm.
"Take this." Dad pushes the bag into my hands. "There's money in the inner pocket. Not much, but—"
"Dad." My voice sounds like someone else's. Scratchy. Dead. "You can't come with me."
"why The hell I can't." He's already grabbing his coat. "You think I'm letting you walk out there alone?"
"You're the Beta." I say it slow because my brain isn't working right. "If you leave, they'll call you rogue. You'll lose everything. The position, the pack, your whole life."
"I don't care about any of that." He grabs my face, forces me to look at him. His eyes are red. "You're my daughter. You're all I have left."
Something cracks in my chest. Not the bond—that's already ash. Something else. Something that makes tears finally come.
"I can't do this without knowing you're okay." I'm crying now, ugly crying, snot and everything. "I need to know someone from our family is still here. Still watching. Still—" I can't finish.
He pulls me into his chest. Holds me so tight I can barely breathe.
"I'll find out what really happened." He says it into my hair. "I swear to you, Selena. I'll find the truth. And when I do—"
"There's no truth to find." I pull back, wipe my face with my sleeve. "He believed them. He chose them over me. That's all the truth."
The sky outside my window is starting to lighten. Dawn's coming. My deadline.
"I have to go."
Dad nods. Swallows hard. Reaches into his pocket and pulls out something small—a worn leather bracelet with a silver charm. Mom's. She wore it every day.
"Take this." He ties it around my wrist. His fingers shake worse than mine. "She'd want you to have it. For protection."
I look at the charm. A tiny crescent moon. My mom believed in signs, in luck, in all the things I used to roll my eyes at.
"I'll find you." Dad steps back. "When it's safe. When I have answers. I'll find you."
I want to say something. Something that matters. But there's nothing left. Just empty.
I walk out the door.
---
The forest is dark.
Not scary dark—familiar dark. I've walked these paths my whole life. Every root, every rock, every stream. I know where the rabbit trails branch off, where the old oak with the hollow trunk stands, where the wild raspberries grow in summer.
None of that matters now. Because I'm not supposed to be here. Every step takes me closer to the border, closer to leaving, closer to becoming nothing.
The rejection sickness hits in waves. One minute I'm walking, the next I'm on my knees, heaving into the ferns. My head pounds. My vision blurs. It's like the worst flu I've ever had, times a thousand.
*This is what dying feels like?*
No. Dying would be easier. Dying would be over.
I force myself up. Keep moving. One foot. Other foot. Don't think about Caden's face when he said the words. Don't think about the bond tearing. Don't think.
The border comes into view. Just a line of stones marking where Bloodmoon territory ends and neutral ground begins. After that, no pack lands. No protection. Just me.
I stop at the stones. Turn around. Look back at the only home I've ever known.
The trees don't care. They just stand there, dark and quiet, like nothing happened. Like my whole life didn't just end.
"Mom." I whisper it. Don't know why. "I don't know what to do."
No answer. There's never an answer.
I step over the stones.
---
The neutral zone is worse than I expected.
It's just... trees. More trees. But wrong trees. Different smells, different sounds, nothing familiar. I've never been off pack lands. Never had a reason to. Everything looks the same and completely different and I don't know which way to go.
Dad said there's a town. A few hours walk. His cousin lives there, takes in strays sometimes. I just have to find it.
I walk. The sun comes up, filters through the trees in weird patterns. My body hurts. Everything hurts. The rejection sickness makes my bones ache, my skin crawl, my stomach heave every time I think about eating.
I didn’t eat. Can't. Just walk.
Hours pass. Maybe. I don't know. My phone died somewhere along the way—no signal anyway. The trees start to look the same again. My legs stop working right. I stumble, catch myself on a trunk, keep going.
*Just a little further. There's a town. Dad said there's a town.*
Rain starts.
Not gentle rain. Cold, soaking, miserable rain that drips down my collar and makes my dress cling to my legs. Mom's dress. Ruined twice now. I should have changed. Didn't think about it.
I keep walking. Can't feel my fingers. Can't feel much of anything except the hollow in my chest where the bond used to be.
The trees blur. My vision blurs. I'm not sure if I'm still walking or just... falling forward.
I end up by a stream. Don't remember getting here. I collapse on the bank, mud seeping through the dress, rain pounding on my face. I close my eyes.
*Just for a minute. Just rest for a minute.*
Something growls.
My eyes snap open. Across the stream, maybe twenty feet away, two wolves. Not pack wolves—I can tell by the smell. Wrong. Feral. Rogues.
They're watching me.
I try to move. Can't. My body won't cooperate. The bigger one steps into the water, starts crossing toward me. Yellow eyes. Drool. I can hear its breathing from here.
*Get up. Get up get up get up.*
I can't. I can't move.
The wolf lunges—
And something massive slams into it from the side.
Black fur. So black it seems to swallow light. A wolf bigger than any I've ever seen, easily twice the size of the rogue. It hits the rogue mid-air, twists, throws it against a tree. The rogue yelps, scrambles up, runs. The other one's already gone.
The black wolf turns to me.
I should be scared. I am scared. But I can't run, can't fight, can't do anything but lie here in the mud and wait.
The wolf shifts.
One second it's an animal, the next it's a man. Naked, rainwater streaming down his body, powerful in a way that has nothing to do with muscles. He's got black hair plastered to his forehead, silver-gray eyes that lock onto mine, a thin scar through his left eyebrow.
He kneels beside me. Doesn't touch. Just looks.
"You're on Silvermoon land." His voice is deep, rough, like he doesn't use it much. "That's my territory. You're bleeding. Sick. And you smell like Bloodmoon."
I try to speak. Nothing comes out.
His eyes soften. Just a little. Just enough.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He says it slow, like he's talking to a scared animal. "But you need to tell me your name. Can you do that?"
"Selena." My voice is a whisper. A croak. "Selena Hayes."
"Selena." He says it like he's tasting it. "I'm Damian. Damian Vargasin. Alpha of this pack." He pauses. "You want to tell me why a Bloodmoon wolf is dying on my border?"
I shake my head. Can't. Too much. Too many words.
He nods like he understands. Like he gets it without me having to explain.
"Okay." He slides one arm under my knees, another behind my back, lifts me like I weigh nothing. "Hold on, Selena. Don't you dare let go."
I grab onto him. His skin is warm against the rain. Warm against the cold that's been eating me alive since Caden spoke those words.
"Damian." I say his name because I don't know why. Because I need to say something.
He looks down at me. Silver eyes. Wet hair. Face that should be scary but isn't.
"I've got you." He starts walking. Fast. "You're safe now."
I want to believe him.
I want to believe anything.
My eyes close. The last thing I feel is his arms tightening around me, like he's afraid I'll slip away.
Like he actually cares whether I live or die.
A stranger.
A complete stranger.
And somehow, that means more than anything Caden ever gave me.
Greta's POVThe morning light filters through the windows, soft and golden, but it brings no warmth to the room. The air is still. Heavy. Waiting.I sit beside Selena's bed, her hand in mine, my thumb tracing slow circles on her skin.She's been asleep for hours now—too many hours.Her face is peaceful, her breathing steady, her body still. She looks like she's simply resting. Like she'll wake up any moment and smile at me and ask what all the fuss is about.But she doesn't wake.I've tried everything. I've checked her pulse, her temperature, her reflexes. I've used every healing technique I know—every herb, every prayer. Nothing works.She's not sick. She's not injured. She's just... gone. Trapped somewhere I can't reach.The door opens, and I don't look. I know it's Maya. I recognize her footsteps—quick, urgent, worried.She crosses the room in three strides and stands on the other side
Selena's POVI follow the light.My legs are shaking. My heart is pounding. My whole body feels like it's made of glass—fragile, breakable, one wrong move from shattering completely.But I walk anyway. I have to. Because the light is her. And I've been running from her for too long.The glow grows brighter with each step. White. Pure. Faintly silver at the edges. It pulses like a heartbeat—slow, steady, alive.And then I see her.She's curled in on herself. A tight ball of white fur and trembling limbs.But even curled up, she's massive—larger than any female wolf I've ever seen. The size of something that shouldn't exist in the mind of a woman who can barely do anything.I stop.I'm small before her. Insignificant. A tiny human standing before a creature of myth and legend.Her fur is white—or it should be. But it's faded now. Dull. Streaked with grey and something darker. Li
Selena's POVI'm standing on the first step of the white staircase.The void stretches endlessly around me—black, empty, silent.The stairs descend into darkness, one step at a time, disappearing into shadows I can't see through. My white gown billows around my ankles though there's no wind. My bare feet are cold against the luminous steps.I take a breath. Then I take a step.And the first memory appears.I see myself—barely seven years old—standing in front of a mirror. My eyes are red and swollen from crying. Behind me, in the reflection, Mama lies on the bed.And there, in the corner of my mind, I see her.My wolf.A small white pup, confused, whimpering, trying to reach out to me."I hate you! You hurt Mama! I never want to see you again!"The words echo in the void around me, sharp and cruel."You monster! Look what you did! You're not my wolf… you're a beast! A filthy, disgusting beast! I wish you had never been born!"*The wolf howls. It's a sound of pure, shattered grief. And
Selena's POVThe room is dark.The only light comes from the pale moon filtering through the curtains, casting silver shadows across the floor.Maya is asleep beside me on the vast bed, her breathing soft and even, her face peaceful in a way mine will never be. Greta is on the other side, her face relaxed.I can't sleep.I'm lying on my side, staring at nothing. The tears come and go, silent streams that slide from one eye, across the bridge of my nose, and disappear into the pillow beneath my cheek.I don't wipe them away. I don't try to stop them. What's the point?My mind is a storm, thoughts crashing against each other like waves in a hurricane. Since I realize it was really not her fault.My wolf.I think about her—really think about her—for the first time in years.Not as a tool. Not as a power. Not as something to be feared or controlled or suppressed.As a companion. The ot
Selena's POV"Why did my wolf attack my mother?"The question hangs in the air between us. It's a question I've carried for ten years—a wound that never healed, a mystery that haunted every quiet moment, a guilt that gnawed at my soul.Greta doesn't flinch. She doesn't look away. She simply takes my hand in hers, her fingers warm against my cold skin."There are two possibilities," she says softly. "And I believe both are true."I wait, my heart pounding."Your wolf didn't attack your mother because she was evil. She didn't attack her because she hated her. She attacked her because she was terrified."I blink, confused."Think about it, Selena. You were a child. It was your first shift. Your wolf had never been out before... never seen the world, never smelled the air, never felt the grass beneath her paws. Everything was new. Everything was overwhelming. The sounds were too loud. The smells were too s
Selena's POVI'm sitting on the bed, my body heavy with exhaustion, my heart heavier still.Maya is beside me, her presence a warm anchor in the storm of my emotions. My head rests on her chest, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat a lullaby that should soothe me but doesn't.Her hand strokes the back of my head in slow, gentle motions, her fingers threading through my hair. Our other hands are intertwined, holding each other like a lifeline.Greta sits before us on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on my legs. Her touch is warm, grounding, a silent reminder that I'm not alone.That I've never been alone, even when I felt like I was."Everything will be alright," Greta says softly.I want to believe her. I want to believe it more than anything."I'm scared," I whisper. "So scared."Greta's eyes find mine with uncanny accuracy. She can easily see the fear written across my face, the trembling in my voice,
I wake up to sunlight and the smell of something cooking.For a second, I forget where I am. Think I'm back home, in my tiny room, with Dad making breakfast downstairs. Then I see the white walls, the unfamiliar ceiling, the fireplace with cold ash in it.Right. Silvermoon. Damian's house. Not dead
I can't breathe.Caden stands in the middle of Damian's front yard like he owns it, he does owns everything. His dark hair catches the morning light. His ice-blue eyes sweep over the Silvermoon pack members with that look I know too well—the one that says *you're beneath me* without him having to o
I wake up in a bed that's not mine.That's my first thought. Before I open my eyes, before I remember anything—just that the sheets smell different. Like pine and something else. Something clean and sharp.Then everything comes rushing back. The rejection. The run. The rain. The wolves.I sit up so
My hands won't stop shaking.I press them flat against my thighs, but the tremors just move up my arms. The white dress my mom wore thirty years ago feels too tight around my ribs, or maybe that's just my lungs forgetting how to work."You'll ruin it." My dad's voice comes from behind me. Soft. Car







