Alba's pov I stood in the rain for two hours. My wrists were tied behind my back with silver rope. It burned. Silver did that to wolves. It didn’t kill you. It just made you weak. Made your knees shake. Made your wolf go silent in your head. Every drop of rain that hit my skin felt like needles. Cold needles, sliding down my neck, into the thin fabric of the dress they forced me to wear. It was white. The dress of an accused. The entire Nightfang Pack stood in a circle around me, watching. Fifty, maybe sixty wolves. Under the grey sky, under the pouring rain. No one had an umbrella except for them. Some of them used to call me sister. Mara from the kitchens. She used to sneak me bread when my stepmother locked me out. Derek, who I grew up fighting in the training yard. Even old Mrs. Hale, who taught me how to read. Now they called me traitor. “Look at her,” someone whispered. “Still not crying.” “As if she has any tears left,” another laughed. “Wolfless trash.”
Last Updated : 2026-08-28 Read more