I used to believe the worst pain was heartbreak.

But pain has levels.

And banishment? That cuts deeper.

The wind howled as I stumbled through the forest, cold needles of rain piercing my skin. My once beautiful dress was now soaked and ripped, clinging to my body like a second skin. My shoes were long gone. My feet bled, torn open by sharp stones and roots.

The guards hadn’t looked back when they dragged me to the border.

Their final words echoed in my head:

"You step past this line, you're no longer part of the Shadow Pack. You’re nothing. No one will protect you."

And Alpha Derek?

He hadn’t even come to watch me fall.

I kept walking.

Not because I had strength.

But because I didn’t want to die right there on the same soil that had once called me Luna.

I didn’t know where I was heading. The trees blurred together in the downpour. My body shook with exhaustion. Hunger gnawed at my stomach. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast—my last meal as Luna.

Everything about that morning had felt normal. I smiled at the maids. Kissed Derek’s cheek even though he flinched away. Tried to act like the bond between us wasn’t broken glass.

By nightfall, I was on my knees, vomiting bile into the wet leaves.

I found a cave. Small, damp, and reeking of something dead.

I didn’t care.

I crawled inside and collapsed.

For the first time in days, I let myself cry.

Not the quiet tears I’d mastered over the years. Not the soft weeping I hid in my pillow.

No.

This was ugly, body-shaking grief.

“I didn’t do it,” I whispered, over and over. “I didn’t kill them.”

But no one was there to hear me.

Not Derek.

Not my wolf.

Not even the Goddess.

Just the echo of my guilt. And the gnawing thought that maybe I had deserved it all for being so... weak.

The next morning, I woke up cold. A different kind. It crawled into my bones and whispered: You won’t survive the week.

I believed it.

My fingers were stiff. My skinpale. My lips cracked and were bleeding. I tried to stand and nearly collapsed. My body no longer obeyed me.

I remembered the stories the elders used to tell of wolves banished for crimes they didn’t commit, eaten by rogues or driven mad by isolation.

I never thought I’d become one of those stories.

I laughed. It came out like a cough.

“Perfect Luna,” I said to the empty cave. “Can’t even die with dignity.”

Something rustled outside. My breath caught.

I pressed myself against the wall, too weak to shift, too weak to run.

But nothing came in.

Just the wind.

I was alone again.

Days passed or maybe it was only one. Time blurred when you were starving.

I wandered during the day and collapsed at night.

I ate berries I wasn’t sure were safe. Drank from a muddy stream. Slept curled beneath bushes and low trees, always listening for growls or the snap of a twig.

Every night, I dreamed of Derek.

Of his eyes filled with disgust.

Of his voice as he said, "You disgust me, Erica. You’re not worthy of the title Luna."

I dreamed of his parents, choking, screaming, their bodies jerking as wolfsbane poisoned their blood.

I saw myself in those dreams standing there with a tray, smiling as they died.

I’d wake up gasping, my hands trembling.

“No,” I whispered. “That wasn’t me.”

But a small voice inside me said, Then why did no one believe you?

My wolf was silent.

She had always been silent.

Even after I turned eighteen. Even after the mating bond had clicked in place with Derek.

No voice. No shift. Just a hollow presence inside me, like an empty shell.

People whispered.

They said I was defective.

Derek never said it out loud, but I saw it in his eyes. Disappointment. Shame.

I was the weak mate. Luna without a wolf.

But now… in the quiet of this cursed wilderness… something was stirring.

It started small. A flicker behind my ribs. A whisper just at the edge of hearing.

The first time I felt it, I dropped to my knees, clutching my chest.

It didn’t speak. It didn’t form words.

But it was there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hungry.

On the sixth night, I found a lake.

Still. Glassy. Surrounded by black rocks and dead trees.

I knelt by the edge and stared at my reflection.

What I saw frightened me.

My bright blue,were now dull, rimmed with purple shadows. My cheeks are hollow. My lips chapped. My long blonde hair hung in clumps, tangled with dirt and leaves.

I looked like a ghost.

I cupped water in my hands and drank.

It was cold and clean.

And as I leaned down again, I saw something behind me in the reflection.

A shadow. Tall. Still.

I spun around but no one was there.

Just trees.

And silence.

Still… I felt it.

Eyes.

Watching me from the dark.

I didn’t sleep that night.

I began talking to myself.

Not out of madness at least, that’s what I told myself.

I just needed to hear a voice.

Even if it was my own.

“They’ll never come looking for you,” I said aloud one morning as I chewed a bitter root. “He probably burned everything that reminded him of you. The sheets. The necklace. Your name.”

It should’ve hurt.

It did hurt.

But I was becoming numb to it.

Maybe numbness was better than pain.

The weather turned colder.

A storm rolled in.

The wind screamed through the trees. Thunder cracked overhead.

I huddled beneath a fallen tree, pulling a blanket of leaves over me like armor.

I thought of my best friend, Lyall.

She hadn’t even shown up at my trial.

We’d grown up together. Shared secrets. Laughed in the garden behind the training field.

I had trusted her with everything.

Even my fears about Derek.

And she’d vanished when I needed her most.

Maybe… she believed I was guilty too.

That thought was worse than any wound.

I didn’t hear the footsteps.

I only felt the breath.

Hot. Wet. Behind my ear.

I froze.

And then… a growl.

Low. Deep.

A rogue.

I didn’t turn.

Didn’t scream.

I simply closed my eyes.

Let it end. Please.

But something moved inside me.

A surge of heat.

Fury.

No.

It wasn’t my thought.

It was hers.

My wolf.

And this time… she wasn’t silent.

The growl came from my throat.

The rogue snarled in reply, circling.

I felt my hands twitch, my muscles tense. My eyes burned.

And then

A scream tore through the forest.

Not mine.

His.

The rogue yelped, then fled, crashing through the undergrowth.

I collapsed, gasping.

My fingers burned.

My body trembled.

And for the first time in my life…

I felt her.

Not just her presence.

But her soul.

Wild.

Angry.

Awake.

I didn’t know how long I lay there afterward.

When I finally sat up, the moon had risen fat and golden above the treetops.

The silence around me felt different now.

Not empty.

Just… waiting.

I stared at my hands, half-expecting claws or fur.

But they were still mine.

Shaking. Dirty. Human.

Still, something had changed.

I wasn’t alone inside anymore.

I wandered again the next day, my legs steadier now, my hunger pushed aside by adrenaline.

I didn’t know what I was searching for.

But I found it.

A scent.

Faint… but familiar.

Not Derek.

Not Lyall.

This one was strange. Musky. Bitter.

And blood.

Fresh blood.

It trailed through the trees, splattered across leaves and rocks.

Something, or someone was wounded.

And I couldn’t explain why…

But I followed it.

Deeper into the woods.

Until I heard the breathing.

Shallow. Ragged.

I crept forward and saw him.

A boy.

Not older than ten.

The boy’s words froze the breath in my chest.

“They’re coming.”

I crouched beside him, scanning the forest. The shadows were long, the wind sharp with the scent of blood and… something else.

Burnt fur.

Rot.

Fear.

“Who’s coming?” I whispered.

He shook his head, tears streaking the dirt on his cheeks. “Bad wolves.”

My stomach twisted.

Rogues.

“Can you move?”

He bit his lip and tried to sit up but gasped and fell back, clutching his leg.

Fractured. Maybe worse.

I didn’t have time to think. If rogues were close, and they caught his scent…

“We have to hide.”

He blinked up at me, eyes wide and wild. “But I don’t know you.”

Fair.

I looked like a ghost, skin bruised, hair a mess, my dress little more than tattered cloth.

“My name is Erica,” I said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to help.”

He hesitated, then gave a shaky nod.

I lifted him gently, gritting my teeth as his weight settled in my arms. He was small, but every muscle in my body screamed in protest.

Still, I carried him.

Because I had to.

Because no one had carried me.

I found shelter in a hollow tree near the creek.

Barely big enough for two, but it was hidden and dry.

I set the boy down carefully and used the last of my sleeve to wrap his leg. He winced, but didn’t cry.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Ren.”

“Ren, where’s your pack?”

His eyes flicked away. “Gone.”

My heart sank. “All of them?”

He nodded slowly. “Ambushed last night. I ran. I didn’t mean to. I just… I got scared.”

Tears welled in his eyes again.

I swallowed hard. “You did the right thing. You survived.”

He didn’t answer.

Outside, the forest quieted. Too quiet.

Even the birds had stopped singing.

I pressed my ear to the bark.

Footsteps.

Slow. Deliberate.

I pulled Ren close, one hand over his mouth, the other ready to fight.

The smell hit me next.

Rotten meat.

Matted fur.

Rogue.

He passed by the tree, tall and thin, bones jutting from his skin like knives. His eyes were glassy, glowing faintly red, lips twisted into a snarl.

He sniffed the air.

My pulse pounded in my ears.

Ren trembled in my arms, but stayed quiet.

The rogue paused. Turned toward our tree.

I held my breath.

Please, no. Not now. Not again.

A crack of thunder rumbled overhead

then a crash in the distance.

The rogue’s head snapped toward the sound.

Another scent must’ve caught his attention.

He ran, limbs jerking, deeper into the trees.

I didn’t move until I could no longer hear him.

Then I exhaled, slowly, and rested my forehead against the bark.

That was too close.

We stayed in the hollow tree until night.

I told Ren stories to keep him calm.

Ones my mother used to tell me before the war, before everything turned to ash.

He listened with wide eyes, chewing on a piece of root I’d dug up earlier.

“Was it true?” he asked. “The story about the moon goddess turning into a wolf to save her mate?”

I smiled faintly. “That’s what they say.”

He leaned against me, eyelids drooping. “I hope she saves you too.”

My throat tightened.

I didn’t reply.

Ren slept.

I didn’t.

I watched the woods, every crack of twig, every gust of wind setting my nerves on edge.

My wolf was stirring again.

Still not speaking.

But watching.

Stronger now.

Awake.

I could feel her heartbeat inside me louder than before.

It matched mine.

And somewhere, deep in the bond that once tied me to Derek, I felt…

A pull.

It didn’t make sense.

He was miles away, surely.

Still leading the pack.

Still hating me.

But the bond wasn’t gone.

Frayed, yes. But not severed.

Why?

Unless he hadn’t rejected me.

Not fully.

Was that even possible?

In the morning, I left Ren in the tree and went to find food.

I followed the stream, catching a rabbit by some miracle and cleaning it with a rock and my nails.

No fire, though. Too risky.

I returned to the tree, only to find Ren staring wide-eyed at something just outside.

A shape stood in the clearing.

Female.

Cloaked.

Eyes glowing faint silver.

She didn’t move when I stepped out.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She tilted her head. “You’ve awakened.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Your wolf,” she said. “She stirs. She knows the truth.”

“What truth?”

But she didn’t answer.

Instead, she stepped forward and placed a small satchel at my feet.

“For the boy.”

Then she disappeared into the trees without a sound.

I opened the bag.

Dried meat. Clean cloth. A small vial of silverleaf salve.

Enough to keep us alive a little longer.

I looked up at the woods where she’d vanished.

Who was she?

Why did she help?

That night, I dreamed of Derek.

He stood in the pack house, rain pouring outside the windows.

Lyall was beside him.

Smiling.

Wearing my necklace.

Touching his arm like she owned him.

And he… let her.

No rage. No guilt.

Just cold acceptance.

The dream shifted.

The image of his dead parents appeared bloodied, eyes open and lifeless on the floor.

Lyall stood over them.

Smiling.

Holding the empty vial.

I woke up screaming.

Ren sat up fast, panicked.

I tried to calm him, but the dream clung to me like vines.

Was it just a dream?

Or

A memory?

No. I hadn’t been there.

But it felt real.

Like my wolf had shown me something she’d seen.

Something that had been hidden.

Lyall.

She was my best friend.

My sister in every way but blood.

She couldn’t have…

Could she?

And if she had…

Why?

The next day was quiet.

Too quiet.

Ren slept most of it, feverish from his injury.

I tended to him with the salve.

But my mind spun.

Why would Lyall frame me?

What did she gain?

Unless… unless she wanted what I had.

The title.

The mate.

The pack.

Derek.

A sick feeling twisted in my gut.

Has she always wanted him?

Has she always envied me?

I thought back so many moments I’d brushed off. Her hesitation when I told her about the mate bond. The way she’d change the subject. The way she’d look at Derek when she thought I wasn’t watching.

I’d been blind.

So foolishly blind.

And now… I was here.

Alone.

While she was there.

With him.

The sun dipped below the trees.

Ren stirred and moaned.

His fever was worse.

He needed help.

Real help.

I couldn’t do this alone anymore.

I stepped out of the hollow, unsure of where to go when a sharp crack split the air.

A twig.

Then another.

I turned fast, heart racing.

Shapes moved between the trees.

Five. Maybe six.

Not rogues.

Too quiet. Too coordinated.

Then I saw the emblem stitched onto one of their sleeves.

Shadow Pack.

And in front of them… leading the way…

Lyall.

She stepped out from behind the trees like she belonged there.

Confident.

Perfect.

Her golden curls were pulled back in a loose braid, her leather jacket spotless, her boots clicking on the rocks like she wasn’t standing in the middle of a cursed forest.

And those eyes…

Once warm and familiar.

Now cold.

Calculating.

“Erica,” she said, voice smooth as ever. “You look… alive.”

The warriors behind her said nothing, but I saw the way they shifted hands near their weapons, eyes watching me like I was dangerous.

I clutched the tree behind me, my body still sore, my arms trembling.

Ren was inside. I had to protect him.

“What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

Lyall smiled and took a step forward. “I came to help you.”

I laughed, bitter and sharp. “Like you helped me at my trial?”

Her expression didn’t flicker. “I didn’t have all the information then.”

My nails dug into the bark. “And now you do?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Silence stretched between us, thick as fog.

“Then say it,” I whispered. “Say you know I didn’t kill them.”

She hesitated.

That was all I needed to know.

“You still think I did it,” I said, voice cracking. “You came here to what, bring me back in chains? Finish what the Council started?”

“No,” she said gently, stepping closer. “I came because Derek asked me to.”

The breath left my lungs.

“What?”

Lyall’s gaze softened, and for a moment, I saw the girl I used to trust. “He’s not well, Erica. He’s… different. Angry. Haunted. He asked me to track you. He said he needed answers.”

Answers?

After tossing me out like garbage?

I shook my head. “He didn’t believe me then. He doesn’t get to now.”

“I’m not here to debate your guilt,” Lyall said. “I’m here because there are things happening that you don’t understand. And I think someone wants you dead.”

“I already know that,” I snapped. “I’ve been living with it.”

She glanced past me toward the hollow tree.

“Who’s with you?”

“No one.”

She raised a brow. “We saw two sets of prints.”

I stepped in front of the entrance. “He’s a child. Alone. Hurt. He’s none of your business.”

Lyall’s expression darkened. “The rogues have been targeting packs. Killing off stragglers and the weak. That boy might know something. He could lead them here.”

“I’m not handing him over.”

She studied me for a moment.

Then surprisingly she nodded. “Fine. We’ll stay nearby. Keep watch while you rest. If they come for you, we’ll be ready.”

I didn’t trust her.

Not even close.

But I didn’t have a choice.

Not with Ren burning up. Not with rogues stalking the woods.

I turned without a word and ducked back into the hollow.

Ren was awake but sweating. His skin was pale, eyes half-lidded with fever.

“They’re here,” he whispered. “The silver-eyed girl…”

I knelt beside him. “She’s not here to hurt you.”

“I don’t trust her,” he croaked.

“You shouldn’t,” I whispered back.

He tried to sit up, but I placed a hand on his chest. “Don’t move. Rest. I’ll be right here.”

Outside, I could hear the warriors moving setting up camp, talking in low voices. Lyall’s voice rang out in command, sharp and crisp.

Just like Derek’s used to.

My heart twisted.

What had happened to him?

Had he truly sent Lyall to find me?

Why now?

Why not when I was starving and alone and nearly eaten by rogues?

That night, I sat outside the hollow with a makeshift spear across my lap.

Lyall sat across the fire, her eyes locked on me.

The flames danced between us.

“I didn’t lie to you,” she said quietly.

I said nothing.

“I didn’t know what happened. But I always wondered…”

I finally looked up. “Wondered what?”

“If it was too perfect.”

My brows furrowed.

She leaned forward. “The deaths. The timing. The way the Council turned on you so quickly. How the poison was found in your room but not your scent on the bottle.”

I flinched.

“No one questioned it,” she continued. “No one wanted to. Not even Derek. It was easier to blame you.”

“Then why didn’t you speak up?”

She looked away. “Because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

A long pause.

“Of being right.”

Something in her tone made my wolf stir.

She was hiding something.

I stood. “You want to help me? Tell me the truth.”

Lyall looked up at me, her eyes shining in the firelight. “I think someone in the Council wanted the Alpha and Luna dead. And you were just… convenient.”

My stomach turned.

“You think it was a coup?”

“I think it’s bigger than that.”

“Then why come now?”

She hesitated again. “Because the same wolves who framed you… might be coming for Derek next.”

Ren worsened through the night.

His fever burned hotter, and his leg swelled.

I soaked a cloth and laid it on his head, whispering stories and prayers I didn’t believe in anymore.

At one point, he grabbed my wrist, eyes wide.

“Erica…”

“What is it?”

He opened his mouth.

And his voice changed.

Not deeper. Not his.

A whisper not meant for him.

“They watch from the shadows. The bond is broken but not undone.”

I jerked back.

“What?”

He collapsed into sleep again.

I stared at him, breath shallow.

My wolf was howling inside me now.

That wasn’t him.

Then who had spoken?

I stepped outside and found Lyall staring up at the moon.

“I need to know something,” I said.

She turned. “What?”

“Did Derek ever reject me?”

She blinked. “No.”

My chest tightened.

“Why not?”

Her eyes searched mine. “Because deep down… he didn’t want to.”

The next morning, Ren was gone.

Just gone.

The hollow was empty. The clothes were discarded. No blood, no trail.

Just a single mark etched into the bark outside.

A symbol.

Sharp lines. A circle broken in two.

Lyall stood beside me, staring at it.

“That’s not rogue work,” she whispered.

My knees gave out.

“Where is he?” I whispered.

And then, behind us

A scream.

High.

Young.

Ren.