Evelyn
The morning stretched like molasses, thick and unmoving, pressing down on me until I could barely breathe.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wooden floorboards as sunlight angled through the high window, catching dust motes in its path. My fingers fidgeted restlessly in my lap, my skin prickling with a tension I couldn’t shake.
I’d been staring at these same four walls for what felt like days, willing them to open and spill out answers. They didn’t. Only silence. Only the steady echo of my thoughts spinning around and around, growing tighter and sharper with every hour.
Sleep had been a fragile, flickering thing—restless and broken by half-dreams of unfamiliar hands and the ghost of Rafe’s eyes on mine. Every time I closed my eyes, I could almost feel his hand hover
EvelynThe torchlight wavered as I followed the priestess through a narrow archway at the back of the temple. Stone gave way to earth, and the air grew colder, heavier, as if it had not moved for centuries.We descended a twisting stair cut into the bedrock, the only sound our footsteps echoing against the walls. At the bottom, the passage opened into a cavern veiled in a pale, silver mist.The priestess stopped beside me, her eyes as sharp as a wolf’s. “This is the Veil,” she said. “The goddess’s test. It spares no one with an impure heart. Wolves go feral if they are false. Humans…” She paused, gaze cutting deep, “…lose their minds.”A shiver ran down my spine. The mist curled around my ankles like cold fingers, breathing secrets I couldn’t understand.“What do I have to do?” I asked, voice tight.She pointed to a shadowy archway on th
EvelynThe night air bit cold against my cheeks as I stepped outside. Rafe waited in the courtyard, a silent, towering shadow. The torches behind him cast flickers across the planes of his face, catching the harsh lines and the faintest glint of something unreadable in his dark eyes.He nodded when he saw me, approving, though he didn’t smile. “Good. Come.”I fell into step beside him as he led me out through the fortress gates. No one challenged us. No one even spoke. It felt as if the whole keep was holding its breath.Beyond the walls, the forest loomed, hushed and silver beneath a waxing moon. The path ahead twisted between ancient trees, roots curling like fingers across the trail. Rafe’s presence guided me forward — steady, assured — and I clung to that steadiness because I didn’t know what else to trust.We moved deeper into the night until even the noises of the keep faded. The only sounds left were the hush of our breathing, the distant calls of owls, and the rhythm of our st
EvelynThe next morning, I woke feeling like the weight of the entire night before still sat on my chest. Every howl, every cry, every shiver of fear seemed stitched into my bones.I sat up slowly, stretching against the dull ache in my ribs. A small fire still burned in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room, but it did nothing to ease the restlessness under my skin.I couldn’t keep living like this — caged, guarded, always afraid. I had to do something, anything, to feel less powerless.I pulled on the heavy cloak Mara had left draped across a chair and stepped out of the room. The hallway was quiet, but I found Mara by the end of the corridor, talking with one of the older omegas about supplies.She turned when she saw me, surprise flickering across her face.“You’re up early,” she noted.I drew a breath, trying to steady the panic that still lurked beneath my ribs. &
EvelynThe night after the punishment, sleep didn’t come.I lay awake in Rafe’s quarters — because where else could I be? — staring up at the carved wooden beams overhead, replaying every lash, every scream, every ragged breath.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the silver biting into flesh, saw the way the guards’ arms had moved, so practiced, so merciless. I heard the way the crowd had gone silent, torn between fear and grim satisfaction.I’d wanted to feel protected. And I had — sort of. But there was a sickness inside me, coiled tight, a voice that kept whispering that this wasn’t safety. That this was a warning.That I was the reason for their pain.By dawn, the tension in my chest had grown unbearable. I finally gave up pretending to rest, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and stood.The bite of cold air helped ground me. The window was cracked open
EvelynThat night, Mara helped me dress again—this time in thicker clothes, a tunic, heavy boots, and a deep blue cloak that brushed the ground.My stomach turned, bile rising every time I thought of what waited outside.“Where are we going?” I asked, though I already suspected.She didn’t meet my eyes. “You’ll see.”I hated that answer.The courtyard looked different under torchlight, transformed from a training ground to something more like an execution stage. Torches ringed the perimeter, flames whipping in the cold breeze, casting long, eerie shadows across stone and dirt. The pack had gathered, shoulder to shoulder in stiff, silent ranks, eyes gleaming in the night like predators waiting for blood.I swallowed hard as Mara led me forward. Each step felt heavier than the last. Every eye turned to me. I felt their judgment like a blade across my skin—some gaz
EvelynI was going to lose my mind.Three days trapped in bed and I was ready to throw myself out the window—even if it meant tearing every single stitch and crawling into the forest like a wounded animal. Each time I so much as shifted wrong, Mara was there, shooting me that look that promised she’d tie me down herself if I tried anything stupid.And Rafe?He didn’t have to say a word. His presence was like a thundercloud, hanging at the edge of the room, thick and heavy and impossible to ignore. Even when he stepped out to see to other duties, I could feel him. Like some invisible thread tethered us together, always tugging, reminding me he was close.It got so bad I started to sense him before he even walked in. My skin prickled with an unearthly heat when he was near. The bond hummed at the base of my throat, an echo of a second heartbeat, relentless.Once, I overheard them through the thin walls.“You can’t keep hovering over her like she’s broken,” Mara scolded. “She almost die