Chapter 11: False Trails ROWAN’S POV The river stank of rot and iron. For hours I’d refused to come down here out of fear. My hands trembled as I pushed through the reeds, the moonlight cutting through mist and reflecting off the water like shards of glass. “Alpha, she’s in a bad state,” my beta, Lior murmured, his voice low, almost apologetic. “We can’t identify the pack mark. It’s gone.” Gone. My boots sank into the muddy bank as I crouched. The girl’s body was wrapped in a black tarp, dripping. I hesitated before peeling it back. The smell hit first—sweat and rancid, like decaying flowers. Then I saw her hair, brown instead of raven black. Her frame was smaller, her fingers unpainted and bitten short. That isn’t Anya. My lungs seized in something between relief and disgust. I reached out anyway, my knuckles grazing the dead girl’s cold skin. She was someone’s daughter, someone’s mate, maybe, someone who deserved a burial, not this. “She’s not Anya,” I muttered, voice low, gr
Last Updated : 2025-11-13
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