To Claim a Sinner

Catherine's POV

My presence did not belong here. It never did.

I should have listened to that tight, heavy feeling in my chest when I picked up the folder and told myself this was a bad idea. Instead, I told myself I was being dramatic and that a good Luna did not sulk. A good Luna supported her husband.

So I came.

The moment I stepped into the packhouse, I knew better.

Lightning flashed outside, bright enough to light the hall in a brief, stark glare. For a second, my reflection appeared in a framed picture on the wall, looking pale and tired, hair damp from the rain, a folder pressed to my chest like a shield. I looked like a stranger in my own packhouse.

I shut the door behind me and stepped into the narrow balcony that ran along the second floor.The storm had picked up, sheets of water slanting across the grounds, wind shoving cold air under my clothes. 

“…Good thing she did not insist on coming tonight. Seeing her face would have ruined my mood before the event even started.”

I heard Simon’s voice through the open window of his office. Almost immediately, I stilled, one foot half-raised, my body caught between going forward and turning back.

The storm should have drowned their conversation. Yet, Simon’s voice was as clear as day.

Heat surged into my cheeks. The bitterness in his tone slid under my skin.

I sank into a crouch beside the outer wall, staying in the narrow strip of shadow where the broken security camera could not see me.

Then, someone laughed. “That is harsh. She is still your wife.”

“She is my wife on paper,” Simon replied. “You know very well I had no interest in marrying her. My father pushed the match because her family’s territory is useful. If I had actually been given a choice, I would never have agreed.”

The folder in my hand suddenly felt heavier. Lightning cracked across the sky again, so bright that it cast a sharp rectangle of light across the balcony. I pressed harder into the wall until my back ached.

Then a light laugh drifted out from the room. I knew that sound before my mind even formed her name. “Stop,” the woman said. “You can’t drink anymore….”

My stomach dropped. My breath caught in my throat.

Mina.

Simon’s adopted sister. The one who always smiled and hugged me and insisted she only wanted what was best for me. The same girl who convinced me that marrying Simon was the safest decision, who told me that love could grow, that respect mattered more than romance, that I would be protected.

My hand tightened around the folder until the corners dug into my palm. Had she been laughing at me this whole time?

Another voice spoke. “You two look very good together. To be honest, it always felt like she was the outsider. But then again, the two of you have always been close. It was Catherine who came between you.”

For a second I thought I misheard. As if on cue, Mina giggled. 

“She should be grateful I tolerate her,” Simon said. His tone had shifted. There was satisfaction in it now. “The marriage certificate is not even real. If her father finds out I never filed it, he will lose his mind.”

Damien laughed in obvious disbelief. “That is dangerous, Simon. Emberfang might not be as strong as Stonehowl but–  ”

“It is worth the risk,” Simon interrupted his Beta. “She is a placeholder. Nothing more.”

Anger surged inside me so fast that my fingers acted before my mind caught up. The folder crumpled, then split apart, the rip loud enough to cut through the storm.

Almost immediately, the office went silent.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Someone inside asked if anyone had heard that noise. Another voice answered that it came from the balcony. 

I knew the rain could not hide me. The storm could not swallow what I had just done. 

I looked down at the torn reports hanging in two pieces between my fingers. The numbers I had triple-checked stared back at me through the jagged tear. None of it mattered now.

The balcony rail was the only direction left.

My mind stopped bothering with careful thought. Panic took control instead when the balcony handle clicked.

And I… I jumped.

Cold air rushed past my face as the ground rushed up to meet me. Rain slapped my skin in hard, cold drops that stole any remaining warmth from my body.

I hit the ground hard and crawled into the bushes. Above me, the balcony doors burst open. Someone shouted that an intruder had been on the balcony and that the scent was fresh. Another voice ordered a search of the grounds.

Rain might blur scent and tracks, but not enough against trained wolves.

My stomach twisted hard. Anger and fear tangled together, pushing me toward one thought. If I stayed here, they would find me. If I ran blindly, I would expose myself.

Simon valued his image above all else. His pride would not allow this to go unpunished.

Thunder rolled again as the memory of Simon’s warning echoed in my head. A Luna who caused problems would be corrected.

I forced air into my lungs and pushed my body up enough to look around. Every option looked like a trap.

I turned toward the path behind the wall, the only route that looked even slightly open. Mud clung to my knees and hands as I moved toward it, but I never made it more than a step.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around my waist from behind with a grip that felt unbreakable. Another hand clamped over my mouth so quickly that the sound rising in my throat died before it had the chance to form.

My body jerked in shock. I tried to twist away, but the arm around my middle tightened and dragged me back, pressing my spine against a solid chest. The contact knocked any remaining air from my lungs.

I tried to wrench my head free, to bite, to do anything, but his hand remained in place. My shoulder blades pressed into hard muscle. Through the storm and the scent of wet earth, I picked up something new. A clean, sharp scent, unfamiliar yet distinct, cut through the chaos in my mind.

Lightning flashed again, bright enough that for a split second I could see the outline of our bodies reflected faintly in a rain-streaked window. My slight form pinned against a larger one. His head bent toward mine.

His breath warmed the side of my neck as he leaned closer. His grip did not soften, but it did not hurt either. His mouth hovered near my ear when he spoke.

“If you want to live, keep that beautiful mouth of yours shut.”