Aaliyah POV:

The small cabin was damp and cold, a stark contrast to the golden warmth of the main house. It was where they let us live—at the edge of the pack lands, far enough away to be forgotten.

I gently laid Ellum on his lumpy mattress, my movements careful and precise. Using the hem of my dry undershirt, I wiped the rain from his face and slicked his dark hair back from his forehead. He was so still.

From a wooden chest beneath the bed, I pulled out a bundle of dried herbs. My mother, a gifted healer, had taught me their names and uses. It was the only legacy she'd left me. I crushed the feverfew and yarrow in a stone mortar, the familiar, earthy scent filling the small room, then mixed the paste with a little water and gently applied it to Ellum's forehead.

As my fingers brushed his skin, they snagged on the thin silver chain around my neck. The pendant, a small, intricately carved wolf, rested in the hollow of my throat. It was the only gift Asher had ever given me.

The memory was so vivid it made my stomach clench. My eighteenth birthday. He had clasped it around my neck himself, his fingers brushing my skin for a fleeting, electric moment. His voice, a low rumble, had been close to my ear. "You're mine."

In that moment, I had believed I was the luckiest girl in the world. I had a fated mate, a future Alpha. I had a home. I didn't know that his mother was already negotiating with the Silver Lake pack. I didn't know that "you're mine" meant "you're my property"—not "you're my future."

There had been other moments, small, deceptive glimmers of hope. Like the winter night he'd found a few of the pack warriors cornering me behind the training grounds. He hadn't said a word to me, but he had beaten them so badly they couldn't shift for a week. He'd warned them to stay away from what was his.

His. Not someone he cared for. Something he owned. He would protect his possession even while planning to marry someone else. Even while his mother laid out the terms of my future as his mistress. A cabin. An allowance. A life of grateful silence while Elara sat at his side. That was the grand destiny the Alpha's family had designed for the orphan girl whose father died in the plague they were sworn to fight.

Ellum let out a pained whimper, pulling me from the treacherous currents of the past. The good memories were poison now, tainted by the truth.

My fingers tightened on the wolf pendant. The memory of his coldness at the window was still fresh, but another, sharper one pushed its way forward.

Last week.

Elara had swept into this very cabin uninvited, her eyes landing on the diamond necklace I kept hidden in my chest—a necklace that meant more to me than anything else I owned. I had saved it through every hardship, the only beautiful thing I had ever been given by someone who mattered. She had plucked it from my fingers with a delighted little gasp, declaring it far too fine for a "charity case." "When I'm Luna," she had said, turning the necklace in the light, "I'll have a dozen finer than this. But you won't be invited to see them." When I tried to take it back, she deliberately let it fall. The clasp snapped. Diamonds scattered across the dirty floorboards like worthless glass. She stepped on one as she left, grinding it into the wood. When I confronted her, she ran to Asher with tears in her eyes and a story about how I had attacked her for no reason.

Asher had summoned me to his study. He didn't ask for my side of the story. He didn't even look at me with curiosity. His eyes were filled with a weary impatience, a deep-seated suspicion that cut me to the bone. "Apologize to Elara for your outburst," he'd said, his voice flat. "And stop making scenes over things that don't belong to you."

I had tried to explain, my voice shaking with disbelief and hurt. The necklace was mine. It was precious to me in ways he couldn't begin to understand. He didn't believe me. He, my fated mate, thought I was a liar and a troublemaker. He, who let his mother plan my humiliation behind closed doors.

The necklace was never returned. The broken pieces vanished, swept away by servants who knew better than to cross Elara. And Asher never mentioned it again, as if something so precious to me had never existed at all.

The memory was a shard of ice in my heart.

I looked down at the silver wolf in my hand. It felt cold now, heavy with the weight of his distrust, his indifference. His occasional acts of "protection" weren't born of affection. They were the actions of an Alpha marking his territory, protecting his property. A property he intended to keep hidden in the woods while he wed another woman. Tonight wasn't a sudden betrayal. It was just the final, undeniable confirmation of a truth I had refused to see.

A wild, terrifying thought began to form in my mind, growing stronger with every beat of my broken heart.

Leave.

I had to get Ellum out of here. I had to get us out of here. To a place where we weren't charity cases. A place where I wasn't the future Alpha's dirty secret. A place where my brother's life was worth more than an Alpha's convenience.

My gaze swept around the miserable little cabin. I started searching, desperately, for anything of value that could buy us a new life.

The search was short and heartbreaking: a few worn-out sets of clothes, my mother's mortar and pestle, and nothing else.

Then my hand brushed against a small, cloth-wrapped bundle tucked away in the corner of the chest. My fingers trembled as I unwrapped it.

Inside, nestled on a bed of faded velvet, lay a jade pendant. It was a deep, vibrant green, carved into the shape of a blooming lotus. It was my mother's. The only beautiful thing I owned, the most precious piece of my past.

And now, our only future.

I clutched the cool stone in my hand, its smoothness a strange comfort. It was enough. It had to be enough.

My decision solidified, hard and clear as diamond. I would sell it. I would use the money to get us to Veridia.

Veridia. A neutral city, governed by its own council, free from the politics and cruelty of the packs. I'd heard whispers of it from traveling merchants—Veridia had the best doctors, healers who worked for coin, not for Alphas.

A wave of relief washed over me, so potent it almost brought me to my knees, then a surge of pure, undiluted fear.

My eyes fell one last time on the silver wolf hanging from my neck. The symbol of a broken promise. A cursed bond. The collar of a pet he planned to keep even as he gave his name to someone else.

With a surge of strength I didn't know I possessed, I grabbed the chain and yanked.

It snapped.

The small silver wolf clattered to the floorboards. I didn't even look at it. I walked over to the cold, empty fireplace and tossed the broken chain and pendant into the soot.

It made no sound. It was just a piece of metal, a worthless trinket.

It meant nothing.

Aaliyah POV:

The darkness before dawn was absolute, a thick, inky blanket that swallowed all light. I tucked the jade pendant into a small pouch and secured it under my clothes, its coolness a solid presence against my skin. I packed a small bag with our few spare clothes and all of my mother's remaining herbs.

I wrapped Ellum, still worryingly warm, in our thickest blanket, and carefully maneuvered him onto my back, his small head resting against my shoulder.

My hand was on the rough wood of the door, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, when a soft tapping sound came from the other side.

I froze.

Every muscle in my body seized. They had come for us. Asher had sent guards to drag me back, to punish me for my defiance.

The knock came again, more insistent this time, followed by a hushed, familiar voice.

"Miss Aaliyah? It's me. Faye."

Relief flooded through me so intensely my knees went weak. I fumbled with the latch and pulled the door open.

Faye Miller, my only friend in this pack, stood on the doorstep. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and she clutched a small, lumpy bundle to her chest. She was the daughter of one of the pack's cooks, and had been assigned to me as an attendant—a role that mostly meant we shared chores and misery.

Her gaze took in my packed bag, the child on my back, the desperate resolve in my eyes. Understanding dawned on her face, followed by a wave of alarm.

"Miss... what are you doing? Where are you going?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

There was no point in lying. "I'm taking Ellum to Veridia," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my soul. "We're leaving."

Tears welled in Faye's eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She had heard what happened at the main house last night—the servants' gossip spread faster than wildfire.

She didn't try to stop me. She didn't tell me I was crazy. Instead, she pushed her bundle into my hands. "Take this, Miss. It's all my savings. And some bread and cheese. It's not much, but..."

I stared at her, speechless.

She grabbed my hand, her small fingers surprisingly strong. Her eyes were fierce. "Take me with you, Miss Aaliyah. Please. My parents are gone. Your mother was the one who took me in when I had nowhere else to go. I can't let you and Master Ellum go alone. I won't."

The warmth of her hand, the fierce loyalty in her eyes—it was the first kindness I had felt in what seemed like a lifetime. My own eyes burned with unshed tears. The road ahead was dangerous and uncertain. I couldn't ask her to share that burden.

But looking at her determined face, I knew I couldn't refuse her either.

I gave a single, sharp nod, and took her bundle.

Without another word, Faye moved with practiced efficiency, helping me adjust the straps holding Ellum, making sure he was secure and as comfortable as possible. We shared a look, a silent promise in the dark, and then slipped out of the cabin.

Faye knew the pack lands better than anyone. She led me away from the main paths, onto an old, overgrown hunter's trail that snaked through the dense woods. The journey was treacherous—the ground slick with mud, tangled roots grabbing at my ankles with every step. Every snapped twig sounded like a gunshot. Every rustle of leaves was a guard's hand reaching for us. My heart didn't just race—it thundered, a desperate, primal rhythm that screamed: run, run, run. If we were caught now, there would be no second chances. Asher's pride would not survive a second rejection. He would lock us away. He would make sure I never saw the sky again. But I would die before I let that happen. Ellum would not grow up in a cage. Not while I still had breath in my lungs. I stumbled more than once, the weight of my brother threatening to pull me down, but each time Faye's steady hand was there to catch me.

We reached the edge of the territory just as the first pale light of dawn began to bleed across the horizon. Before us lay a small, sleepy town that served as a buffer between the pack lands and the human world.

There was a pawn shop on the main street, its windows dusty and dark. I didn't hesitate.

The owner was a portly man with greedy eyes that lit up when he saw the jade pendant. He knew it was valuable. He tried to lowball me, offering a pittance.

But a strange calm had settled over me. I remembered conversations I'd overheard—my mother teaching a visiting merchant about the clarity and color of good jade. I repeated her words, pointing out the flawlessness of the stone, the mastery of the carving.

My unexpected knowledge and unwavering composure seemed to startle him. He grumbled, but his next offer was three times the first. It was a fair price. I took it.

With a pouch heavy with coins, we moved quickly. I bought a sturdy, if old, carriage and a tired-looking horse. We stocked up on blankets, water, and more food. Faye helped me settle Ellum into the back of the carriage, making a small nest for him among the blankets.

I took the reins myself.

As the first rays of sun crested the hills, our small carriage rattled onto the main road leading away from the town, away from Blackwood, away from the only life I had ever known.

I glanced back at Faye. Her face was a mixture of fear and exhilaration. I knew mine must look the same.

In the back, Ellum stirred, letting out a soft moan. I reached back and took his small, hot hand in mine.

"It's okay, Ellum," I whispered, my voice thick with a promise that was also a prayer. "I've got you. We're never going back there again."