Chapter 1

Anastasia's POV

“Did you hear? Her dad was executed.” Someone said as I passed a group of students staring at me.

“Well, serves the traitor right.” Another answered among them.

I kept my head down trying to block out the voices. Sarah and Amy, my only friends, stuck close to me.

“Back off bitch,” Sarah sneered at one of them but it only earned us a louder laughter.

“Just ignore them, Ana,” Sarah looked defeated. “They don’t know anything.”

“Yeah, they’re just being jerks,” Amy added, her tone more aggressive than Sarah’s.

I nodded, but my throat felt tight, and my eyes stung with tears that never seemed to fall. Not even when Dad was executed a month ago.

This had been my life now. People mocking me when I passed by.

The old me wouldn't have stood for it. But this me couldn't even bring myself to do anything.

If the rumors were right, then Dad had betrayed the pack and was executed publicly as a traitor.

I wasn't sure if it was true or not, but all I wanted to do was be away from everyone.

Classes went by fast as usual.

I made my way to my locker as soon as the final bell rang, keeping my head down as students flooded the hallway.

All I wanted was to get my things and go home.

The word didn't even feel like home anymore. Not when he wasn't there.

I spun the combination on my locker and pulled it open, shoving a few books into my bag.

“That's the traitor's daughter.”

I froze for a second. Shit. I knew that voice.

“Her father was a traitor. What did you expect?”

I clenched my jaw and continued packing.

'Don't listen. Just go home.' Those were the words I always told myself.

“She should be ashamed of herself. Walking around here like she has nothing to do with what her father did.”

My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag. Then I shut my locker.

“Your father deserved what he got.”

I started walking.

“Actually, they shouldn't have just cut off his head.”

That got to me, and so I stopped, my entire body going rigid.

“They should have butchered him piece by piece..."

My breath caught. And suddenly, I wasn't in the school hallway anymore.

I was there. Pushing through the crowd, yelling and trying to make my way to the scene.

Dad's face flashed through my mind.

His hands bound behind his back.

His eyes searching through the crowd.

Then the blade, the blood. The nightmares came back, except this time I wasn't lying on the floor beneath my bed, trying to sleep.

"... and burned every piece of him,” Derrick continued

My stomach twisted.

“Maybe then his daughter would understand what happens to traitors.”

That did it. Something inside me snapped.

I turned around and grabbed the nearest trash can.

“What did you just say?” I growled.

His eyes widened. He barely had time to react before I lifted it.

“Anastasia!” Someone yelled.

I froze.

The voice came from behind me. So, I slowly turned my head.

The principal stood at the end of the hallway, staring at me.

His expression was hard.

“Put that down.”

My breathing was heavy. For a moment, I didn't move. Then I dropped the trash can.

It hit the floor with a loud clang.

“Come to my office. Now.”

I swallowed hard, glaring at Derrick, the school's dumb quarterback, and then turned to follow the principal.

“It wasn't my fault,” I whispered the moment we stepped into his office.

He closed the door behind me.

“Derrick started it. He was talking about my dad. He called him a traitor and said he deserved to die.”

The principal stared at me before scoffing.

“And you attacked him with a trash can?”

I lowered my eyes, unable to meet his.

“He said they should have butchered your father and burned every piece of him.”

I nodded silently.

“Your father was a traitor, Anastasia. You need to accept that.”

My throat tightened. I looked up.

“My father is dead.”

“I know.” His voice was cold. “And now you're living with the consequences of what he did.”

I said nothing, I couldn't say anything.

“You're the daughter of a traitor. That's all people see when they look at you. Stop expecting sympathy and learn to live with it.”

I was shocked.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” he said.

Mom stepped inside.

The principal's expression changed instantly.

“Hello Ma'am,” he said gently. “I'm sorry you had to come in. Anastasia had a difficult moment today.”

I stopped listening.

Their voices blurred together as they spoke.

Mr. Drake was just like everyone else.

And somehow, that hurt more because I thought he was different.

I thought he was Dad's friend.

I remembered how Dad used to speak about him. How they would laugh whenever they ran into each other.

Maybe I'd been wrong about everything.

I sat there, staring at my hands, replaying his words over and over.

I couldn't understand how someone Dad had trusted could look at me with so much hatred and—

“Anastasia.” Mom's voice pulled me back.

I looked up.

“We should go.”

I nodded and stood.

Neither of us said anything as we left the office. Nor did we say anything on the way home.

"Rough day, huh," She finally broke the silence.

I didn't say anything, and she didn't want to continue.

Before Dad's death we didn't speak a lot, and after his death we spoke less. But still...

"Aren't you going to ask me what happened?" I asked, curious.

She shook her head. "Nope, no need. But I do wish you had slammed the trashcan on him."

That earned her a smirk. "Not up for good parenting are we?"

She chuckled. "With a kid like that I'm pretty sure I'm a better parent than the Galloways."

I laughed. Well, she was right.

Mom looked shocked. And then I realized why. I hadn't laughed that way for a month.

The smile faded and my hands tightened on the straps of my bag.

"I'm gonna head to my room now,"I muttered, ignoring her disappointed look.

I had barely taken two steps toward the stairs when Mom called my name.

“Anastasia.”

I stopped.

“We need to talk.”

Something in her voice made me turn around.

“What is it?”

She hesitated for a moment before taking a breath. “We're moving.”

I stared at her. “What?”

“We're leaving soon. So, start packing your things.”

I blinked several times, waiting for her to laugh, but she didn't.

“Moving where?”

“You'll find out.”

“What do you mean, I'll find out?” My voice rose. “Mom, where are we going?”

“You'll make new friends. You'll have a new school. It'll be a fresh start.”

“A fresh start?” I laughed bitterly. “I don't want a fresh start. I want my life back.”

Mom's expression fell. “Ana—”

“No.” I shook my head. “Everything I've had is being taken away from me. Dad is gone, everyone at school and technically this god-damned pack hates me, and now you want to take me away from the only place I've ever known.”

“I'm trying to help you.”

“Then don't make me leave!”

“We can't stay here!”

Her voice cracked through the room. Then silence followed.

I stared at her. “Why?”

She looked away.

“Mom.”

“We just can't.”

“That isn't an answer!”

She swallowed hard. “There are things you don't understand.”

“Then explain them to me!”

She remained silent, and my chest tightened.

“Where the heck are we going—”

“I'm getting married!”