"You're not my dad! Get your hands off me!" Ivy's shriek slices through the moonlit clearing, her tiny fists battering the forearm wrapped around her waist.

"Let go! " She twists violently

"My dad said you'd slink back, that you're a feral! A rogue with a hunger for cubs!"

My pup thrashes, her tiny fists swinging, her teeth sinking into my arm.

Blood trickles down, but I don't let go.

I can't let go.

I only get one day a year to see her, and every eight with her is worth the pain.

Ten years.

Ten damn years, and not a single day passes without me aching for her.

I don't blame her for hating me.

To her, I'm just a lowly wolf slaving for the Blake pack, a sinner in their eyes.

The pack's whispers follow me like a shadow-tales that me and my dad, Douglas, schemed to seduce the Blake she-wolf and her pup, all for their fortune.

It's a filthy lie, but lies stick like mud in this pack.

"You think you're slick, don't you?" Andrew Blake's roar shakes the pines

"Your dad went after my mom, and now she's dead, my dad's a husk, and you're happy with that?"

My fists clench at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I fight the surge of primal fury his presence stirs. "Andrew, it wasn't-"

"Save it! " He lunges forward, chest heaving.

"Your dad went after my mom, and now she's dead, my dad's a husk, and you're happy with that?"

Veronica, his sister, kneels by their father Kenneth's bedside, her eyes red from crying, glaring at me with a hatred that could burn through steel.

No matter how I plead, how I swear it's not true, she sees only a wolf who betrayed her pack.

They want to tear me apart, me and my dad, but then the healer drops a bombshell: Veronica's carrying my pup.

I beg her, tears streaming, to keep our pup. "

It's not the pup's fault," I say, my voice breaking. She looks at me like I'm dirt, then points to the eight-story window.

"Jump," she says.

"You jump, I'll keep the pup."

So I jump.

Break my rib in the fall, but I survive.

The day Ivy's born, I'm racing to the hospital, blood pouring that nearly ends me.

I'm barely conscious on the operating table when Veronica storms in, cradling our pup, her eyes cold as ice.

"Your dad killed my mom," she says.

"He turned my dad into a vegetable. You want this pup? Fine. She'll be the Blake pack's princess, but you? She'll never know you. You'll feel what it's like to lose family."

From that day, I've slaved for the Blake pack, doing the lowest, dirtiest work to stay near my pup and my dad, who's still trapped in that hospital bed, a shell of the wolf he was.

The torment never stops, each day a fresh hell.

But Veronica keeps her word-she doesn't take her hate for me out on Ivy.

Seeing my pup thrive, even if she doesn't know me, it's the only thing keeping me going.

If my dad did wrong, the suffering I've endured should've paid that debt ten times over.

I've been scraping together cash in secret.

One more month, and I'll have the papers to get me and Dad out of here, away from this pack's claws.

"Mom!" Ivy's voice snaps me back.

The door swings open, and Veronica glides in, her dress flowing like she's royalty.

"What are you doing here?" she snarls.

"Who let you in?"

I drop my gaze, unable to meet hers.

"It's my day to see her," I mumble.

"Her? You think a wolf like you deserves a pup?"

She's been drinking-her breath reeks of whiskey.

She grabs the back of my neck, her grip like iron, and drags me upstairs.

The door flies open, and she flings me to the floor.

My forehead slams into the bedpost, and pain blooms, blood pooling under the skin.

I glance up, cautious.

Kenneth lies in the bed, hooked to machines, the heart monitor beeping steadily.

Veronica's voice is venom.

"Look at him. Ten years, thanks to you and your dad. And you think you get to play happy family with your pup?"

"What about us?" she says, her voice shaking with rage.

"How do we get our family back?"

Her fist clenches, veins bulging.

I'm pale, practically begging.

"Veronica, please-listen." My voice cracks as she steps back. "My dad's no killer. He'd never break the truce. You know him."

Dad worked his tail off for decades, loyal as they come.

I can't believe he'd chase a mated she-wolf.

But Veronica laughs, a cold, bitter sound.

"You're still peddling that lie?" Veronica's laugh is a snarl, eyes flaring.

"My mom's car. Your dad half-dressed in the front seat. You gonna claim the moon framed him too?"

I open my mouth, but I've got no proof, so I bite my lip, silent.

Andrew bursts in, shouting.

"How dare you show your face here!" His snarl splits the air, and he shoves me-hard-sending me crashing into the oak. My shoulder throbs, but I bare my canines, hackles rising.​

"Get out!" He advances, fists clenched, eyes blazing like embers. "My dad's got enough of your kind stinking up his territory. One whiff of your bloodline, and he'll tear you to shreds. Go. "

He spins on Veronica, canines bared. "Why let this wolf linger? His sire-why waste healer's tonics on him? Let the pair rot. Die."​

Andrew and I once ran as brothers.

"Die?" Veronica's laugh is a low growl, eyes flaring.

"Too kind. I want them breathing. Want his dad whimpering through each moonrise, his son tasting shame with every howl. Suffering? It's their penance. Daily. Forever."

She turns to me, her eyes glinting with something dangerous.

"You wanted the high life, didn't you, Owen? Well, I'm giving you a shot."

A chill runs through me. Whatever's coming, it's bad. Real bad.

Veronica doesn't give me a chance to argue.

She shoves me through the gilded doors, my shoulder slamming into a marble pillar. The air reeks of perfume and dominance-this is the Den, where she-wolves rule, claws sheathed in silk.​

"Got your sacrifice," Veronica barks, tossing a key at the queen of the house. "A rogue with a pretty snarl. Keep him leashed. Entertain the girls."​

The queen's gaze rakes me, wolf-pupils narrowing. "Veronica's always had a knack for broken things." She flicks a wrist. "Show us your teeth, pretty one. Let's see if you're worth the chains."​

My throat tightens.

I clutch my collar, heart pounding, staring at the room full of strangers.

"I can't do this," I stammer.

"Veronica, please, don't make me do this!"

Her face is stone-cold, and she grabs my chin, her grip tight enough to bruise.

Her eyes are dark, chilling me to the bone.

"Oh, you don't like it? How about I do this to your dad instead? One call, and I'll have his oxygen cut off."

"No!"

I grab her arm, desperate.

She snorts, yanking free.

"If my pack hadn't taken you in, your uncle Raymond would've sold you off to who-knows-where. And now you're acting all high and mighty?"

My lips tremble, memories clawing their way back.

When Veronica banished me to the old Blake estate to work as a servant, the older hands there knew my story.

"His dad seduced Margot, caused all this mess," they'd whisper.

"Now he's sniffing around Veronica. Shameless."

By day, they gossiped.

By night, under cover of darkness, they'd rip off what little clothes I had left, pinching and bruising my skin.

When that wasn't enough, they'd beat me with whatever was handy, leaving me battered and broken.

They knew no one would care if I died there.

"Need help stripping?"

Veronica snaps, her patience gone.

She lunges for my shirt, and I flinch, my whole body shaking.

Just being near anyone now sets me off, trembling like a cornered pup.

"No! I'll do it," I choke out, biting back the shame.

Just hold on. One more month, and I'm out of this hell.

I unbutton my shirt, one agonizing button at a time.

It falls to the floor, leaving my scrawny frame exposed. I hug myself, shivering in the cold air.

The old she wolf smirks.

"That's not enough, wolf."

Tears sting my eyes, but I hold them back, turning to Veronica.

"You gotta humiliate me like this? If it's ever proven my dad didn't do those things, you'll regret this."

She laughs, sharp and merciless.

"Regret? The only thing I regret is knowing you. You and your dad would do anything for a buck, wouldn't you?"

"Keep going. Strip."

I shut my eyes tight, willing the tears to stay put.

My fingers grip my pants, knuckles white.

Veronica watches, irritation flickering across her face, like she's already bored.

Then her phone rings.

I catch a glimpse of the caller-Preston Hale, my childhood friend.

Her voice shifts, soft as honey.

"Hey, babe, miss me? Alright, I'm on my way."

She hangs up and bolts without a backward glance.

I stumble out of the room, clutching the one hundred bucks the old fat she wolf tossed at me. My face burns like I've been slapped.

"Veronica's orders," she'd said with a sleazy grin. "

A wolf like you? Worth one hundred. Not a penny more."

The sunlight's too bright, stabbing at my eyes. I collapse to the ground, sobs tearing out of me. In that moment, the Veronica I once knew-the gentle, kind she-wolf I loved-is dead to me.

Thanksgiving rolls around, and the Blake pack is gearing up for a big family feast.

Normally, on days like this, I'm not even allowed to catch a glimpse of Ivy from afar.

But this year, Veronica's feeling generous-or maybe just cruel in a new way-and lets me work the event, hauling trays and cleaning up after the pack.

The Blake pack's got deep roots and deeper pockets.

The feast is a full house, dozens of wolves and she-wolves gathered, laughing and clinking glasses.

When Veronica strolls in, arm-in-arm with Preston Hale, nobody bats an eye.

They swarm the pair, raising glasses like they're already bound.

"Bringing Preston to the feast? Looks like Veronica and him are about to form a sacred bond," someone whispers nearby.

"No surprise there," another voice chimes in. "Preston's from a top-tier pack, and him and Veronica? They're a match made by the moon. Plus, Ivy adores him. It's only a matter of time before she's bound to him."

The words hit me like a punch to the chest.

Veronica and Preston grew up together, thick as thieves.

When he found out she was my mate, he raised hell more than once.

Now, looks like he's getting what he always wanted.

But that's got nothing to do with me anymore.

I lower my head, grabbing a tray of drinks to deliver, when Ivy comes barreling toward me, all excitement. I don't move fast enough, and we collide.

"Hey, you okay? Did you get hurt?" I ask, checking her over, my heart racing.

She shoves my hands away, her face twisting with disgust.

"Keep your claws off me!" She hisses, shoving me so hard I stumble. Her eyes flash, pupils slitting. "Ugh, you. Always you. The worst of your kind."​

She doesn't spare a glance as she bolts, knees pumping, and throws herself into Preston's arms. He's outside, by the bonfire-flames crackling.

He's handing Ivy a moon token-carved bone, glowing faintly.

"Scratch your wish, pup. Let the moon taste it, and it binds."​

Ivy's eyes blaze. "I want you for dad, Preston! Us, a pack-forever bonded!"​

"Bonded?"

Veronica's laugh is soft, stroking Ivy's hair.

"You know bonds mean blood oaths, little one?"​

"I know!" Ivy bounces, token clutched tight.

"Mom, bond with him! Please?"​

Preston's ears perk; Veronica's gaze flicks to me-sharp, triumphant.

"Alright, pup. He's yours."​

My blood runs cold, chest squeezing like a trap.

I turn to go, but Andrew blocks me, calm as a storm.

"See that?" He nods at their laughter.

" You? A rogue. Ivy doesn't need your shame."​

His voice drops, dangerous.

"Stay away. Or I'll let the pack scent your secret. Let 'em howl about her bloodline's rot. You want that for your cub?"​

I stare blankly. "I won't tell anyone I'm her dad."

Andrew squints at me, like something's off, but he can't place it.

"Good. Veronica's had a lot to drink. Take her this sobering tea."

He shoves a cup into my hands.

I weave through the crowd to where Veronica's chatting with some pack members.

She spots me, her eyes icing over, but she doesn't say a word.

I don't either-just set the tea down and slip away.

The feast drags on, and I'm scrubbing the villa's floors until three in the morning.

I'm so beat I could crash right there, but I manage to stumble to bed.

The next morning, my phone's buzzing wakes me.

The newsfeed's blowing up: #Blake Pack Heir Caught In Ca rScandal-BondImminent?

It's Preston, of course.

The story's everywhere.

With their pedigrees, the whole pack's howling their approval online.

I shut off my phone, numb.

That doesn't matter to me. What matters is Dad.

Veronica's got him stashed in a private hospital, hooked to machines that keep him breathing. I sit by his bed, my hand trembling as I touch his weathered face.

I don't blame her for hating me, but I can't believe Dad would do what they say.

"Dad," I whisper, "when are you gonna wake up? You gonna lie here forever, carrying the weight of their lies?"

A tear falls onto his hand.

Then-did his finger just twitch?

I blink, thinking I'm seeing things. But it moves again.

I scramble for the healer.

After a flurry of tests, the healer pulls off their mask, smiling.

"Owen, good news. Your dad's vitals are improving. With active treatment, there's a real chance he'll wake up."

"Really? You mean it?"

I'm practically shaking with relief, thanking the healer over and over.

Hope sparks in my chest again.

I curl up by Dad's bed and drift off, clinging to that flicker of light.