The first thing I noticed was the silence. Not the kind I'd grown used to all my life, but the hollow kind—the kind that followed devastation.

I blinked at the ceiling, unfamiliar and sterile. My hands moved instinctively to my belly, the place where life had once stirred. Now, there was only stillness.

Daniel sat beside the bed. His golden eyes flickered as he noticed the movement. Calm, collected, he reached for my hand and signed gently, “Maurice… the baby didn’t survive.”

His voice, though soft, echoed too clearly in my mind. I heard every word. It was strange still, being able to hear after so many years of silence. I should’ve cherished this miracle. But now it felt like a curse—because it let me hear the lies too.

I didn’t react. My gaze drifted to the window instead, to the pale sky beyond. No tears came. My heart was too hollow to cry.

Daniel gave me a practiced smile. “You should return to your family for a while. The change might help.”

I nodded, just once. Enough to ease his suspicions.

But the truth was already set in stone.

Yesterday, everything changed.

---

The morning before the fall, I had rushed to find Daniel, my heart bursting with joy. For the first time in years, I could hear again. I was whole.

I wanted to tell him everything—to hear his voice, to experience our love in a way I never could before.

I followed the sound of his voice down the hall, a voice I once only imagined. But as I neared the closed room, his words turned from sweet to sinister.

“She’s pregnant again,” Daniel said flatly. “That’s why I’ve added more of the herb. This one won’t last either.”

A second voice answered—one that turned my stomach to stone.

My father’s.

“Good. Helen is stable now. She’ll need everything we can give her.”

“We only need one heir,” he added with a laugh. “And it certainly won’t come from that broken girl.”

I didn’t feel the tears until they fell. My knees weakened, and I clung to the wall to stay upright.

The door creaked open. Daniel stepped out. For a second, shock passed over his face, but it vanished quickly. His smile returned, calm and comforting.

“Maurice,” he signed. “Are you okay?”

I gave him a gentle, clueless smile and nodded. No sign that I’d heard a thing. No sign of the storm brewing inside me.

My father passed behind him, eyes sharp beneath his warm smile.

“You should lie down, my dear,” he said in a tone coated with false concern.

I nodded again, my mouth dry.

Back at the packhouse, Daniel tried to pretend nothing had happened. He poured me a drink in the kitchen—his usual blend of tea and something darker. Something bitter. I had trusted it before. But now…

Now I knew what it was.

He handed it to me, smiling gently. “Drink,” he said. His voice was soft, coaxing.

I took the cup, lifted it to my lips, then paused. I shook my head with a smile, gesturing that the scent made me feel sick.

“Maurice…” he signed again. “You need to.”

I knocked the cup from his hands.

It hit the floor and shattered.

A beat of silence. Then another.

His eyes darkened, the warmth gone. He stepped forward, looming. My instincts screamed to run, but I froze, calculating.

Then I stepped backward—and there was nothing.

I fell hard, the lower level of the house catching me in a cruel embrace. Pain bloomed instantly through my body. My stomach convulsed. Warmth spread beneath me—hot, wet, metallic.

I screamed. But only in my mind.

The world tilted as my vision blurred. The scent of blood overwhelmed everything.

Not again. Not this one.

And then the darkness pulled me under.

---

Now, awake and broken, I could see clearly.

Daniel’s lies. My father’s betrayal. The quiet role Helen had played, innocent to all, or perhaps not.

But I wouldn’t give them what they wanted.

Let them think I was weak. Let them believe the herbs had broken my body.

Tomorrow, I would leave.

And when I returned, I wouldn’t come back as their pawn.

I would return as the storm.

The pack house stood like a monument of cold authority, cloaked by the dense forest around it. Daniel led the way, his steps brisk and unyielding, while I trailed behind, a silent shadow with a smile carefully painted on my face. Every step echoed louder than the last in my chest, where dread had made a home.

We entered through the front doors, and the grandeur of the Amethyst estate greeted us. The long dining table, laden with ornate dishes and flickering candlelight, gleamed in the center of the hall. Voices buzzed with laughter and casual chatter—until I arrived. Silence dropped like a curtain, brief and cutting. Then came the glances—some filled with poorly concealed amusement, others oozing disdain.

At the head of the table, my father raised his glass in a welcoming gesture, the curve of his mouth tight and practiced. I nodded politely, slipping into the seat beside Daniel.

Then I saw her.

Helen.

Glowing with smug satisfaction, her hands resting delicately on the roundness of her belly, now prominently showing. Four months along, and not missing a chance to flaunt it.

“Oh, Maurice,” she said, voice soaked in theatrical pity, one hand splayed across her stomach. “I can’t imagine how painful your recent… tragedy must be. Truly heartbreaking.”

She didn’t mean a word of it. Her eyes gleamed with triumph, and the others followed her lead. Laughter sparked across the table like wildfire. Masked behind false concern, their words dripped venom.

I mirrored their smiles. It had always been like this—they never cared to learn sign language, never thought it necessary to include me. I used to imitate their expressions to fit in. If only I had learned to read lips sooner, I might have known earlier just how deep the cruelty ran.

No matter.

They didn’t know I could hear them now.

“And it’s what? The tenth miscarriage?” someone murmured with a laugh. “At some point, you’d think she’d just accept she’s not Luna material.”

“She’s practically barren,” another added. “Daniel deserves a Luna who can give him heirs. He could fill the den with pups and she wouldn’t even notice.”

A burst of laughter followed.

“Honestly, she’s a blessing. No talking back, no noise. Like a pretty decoration. Deaf and docile.”

My fork scraped against my plate as I laughed with them. If they noticed the tension in my grip, they didn’t mention it.

After a while, I stood from my chair and gestured toward the hallway, pretending I needed to freshen up. Daniel barely glanced my way, too engrossed in his father-in-law’s words. Fine. I wanted space.

I walked down the corridor and slipped into the bathroom. The soft lighting gave everything a ghostly glow. I let the water run over my hands, watching droplets slide across my skin, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

Then the door creaked open.

Helen stepped in, closing it behind her. Her lips curled into that smile—the one that always looked too polite to be real.

“There you are,” she said lightly, as though we were old friends. “You’ve been so strong through all of this, really. I admire that.”

I nodded with the same empty smile I’d worn all evening.

“But you know,” she went on, voice softening, “it was always going to end this way. You were never meant to have a place beside Daniel.”

She stepped closer, her fingers tracing the curve of her own belly.

“I worried, you know? That you’d manage to carry a child before I could. But the universe is finally back on track, isn’t it?”

I kept my expression unchanged, letting her continue.

“I struggled, too,” she said with a false gentleness. “Until someone gave me a solution. A special kind of… nourishment. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Something twisted deep in my gut. My wolf stirred uneasily, sensing danger.

Helen’s smile widened.

“Strong life force. Vital essence. That’s what they said your pups had.” Her voice was sweet, cruelly so. “And now? Mine thrives because of you.”

The air around me seemed to vanish.

“Your losses… well, they were tragic. But necessary. You gave me life, Maurice. You should be proud.”

She reached out and touched my shoulder, her grip delicate but filled with mockery.

And something inside me shattered.

Not loudly. Not in a scream or a burst of rage. It broke in quiet fury. My wolf, silent for too long, rose from the depths of my soul, her growl vibrating through every vein. The heat behind my eyes threatened to spill over, but I wouldn’t give Helen that satisfaction.

I smiled.

Not weakly. Not in surrender.

But with the promise of retribution.

The wolf inside me screamed for blood. Fury throbbed in every nerve, coiled tight and volatile, ready to snap the fragile leash I’d kept wound around it for so long. My hands trembled at my sides, fingers twitching with the primal urge to strike—to rip out Helen’s throat and end her cruelty once and for all. But I held back.

Not now.

Not yet.

So instead, I exhaled softly and curled my lips into a small, almost innocent smile. A faint giggle passed my lips, as light as a feather and twice as hollow. I tilted my head in false curiosity, wide-eyed and silent like the naive little fool they all believed me to be. Let her think I still lived in silence. Let her believe I hadn’t heard her words.

Helen’s brow lifted slightly at my reaction, her smirk deepening in smug satisfaction. “Honestly,” she sighed, shaking her head with exaggerated pity, “it’s almost sad. You really are as dumb as you look, aren’t you?”

She gave her swollen belly another long, deliberate stroke, her fingers moving in slow, theatrical circles. Then, as though bored of the game, she pivoted toward the door, eager to rejoin the others—no doubt planning to slide into the seat beside Daniel like the victor she believed herself to be.

Something in me snapped loose.

My body surged forward before reason could restrain me. My hands shoved her hard, fueled by a rage I could no longer contain.

Helen stumbled back with a startled gasp, her heels slipping on the polished marble. Her body hit the floor with a harsh crack that echoed off the bathroom walls. A shriek followed—sharp and piercing like a wounded animal. My breath caught as the sound ricocheted around us, impossibly loud, deafening in its clarity.

I froze. Heart pounding.

Then, I dropped into character.

My eyes widened in mock horror. I slapped a trembling hand to my lips, taking an uncertain step forward as if consumed by remorse. My hand reached out, hesitating in the air while I watched her writhe in exaggerated pain. My gaze darted to the door with feigned confusion, lips parting in silent alarm.

Footsteps thundered down the hallway—fast and many.

The door slammed open.

Gasps filled the air, followed swiftly by a chorus of mutters and murmurs. My father stood among them, his face twisted with fury. I barely had time to process his glare before his hand lashed out, striking me across the cheek with brutal force.

Pain exploded through the side of my face. My skin stung, hot and raw, the impact sending me staggering sideways.

“You shameless girl!” he bellowed, his voice cold and venomous. “What madness possesses you?”

I blinked through the haze of pain and humiliation, my cheek pulsing with each frantic beat of my heart. I barely had time to react before Daniel barreled past me, not sparing me even a fraction of attention. His arms swept Helen up from the floor, cradling her like a broken treasure.

“Are you alright?” he murmured, his voice thick with concern. He scanned her face, his expression unreadable except for the panic lining his eyes.

Helen whimpered softly, clutching her belly with one hand while pressing the other against his chest. “My baby…” she whispered dramatically.

Daniel’s gaze shot to mine, his eyes burning with fury. “If anything happens to this child,” he hissed—no signing, just low, deliberate words—“you’ll answer for it, Maurice. I swear it.”

His child.

I froze. My mind whirled.

His… child?

The implication struck harder than my father’s slap. I had known she was pregnant, of course. I’d seen her flaunt the bump, rub it like a trophy. But I had never imagined—not for one moment—that Daniel was the father.

My mate.

My chest tightened painfully. My thoughts spun out of control, the edges of my vision tunneling as realization settled in like ice water in my veins.

I kept my face blank, allowing only a hint of confusion to play across my features. I glanced around slowly, seeing the pack’s stares closing in like blades.

“She’s completely unhinged,” someone muttered near the back.

“She tried to harm a child,” another added with a sneer. “Her Luna title should be stripped.”

“She’s a threat. Deaf or not.”

“No wonder the goddess never gave her a child. She would’ve destroyed it too.”

The words pierced deep, carving into wounds that had barely begun to scar. I clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself not to flinch. Not to scream. Not to let them see me fall apart.

I turned my eyes to Daniel, desperate for something—anything—that might contradict this nightmare. But there was nothing in him for me. No pity, no doubt. Only fury and a wall of protectiveness aimed at someone else.

At her.

His grip on Helen tightened as he turned away, shielding her from me as though I were some cursed thing. Some danger that needed to be kept away from what was his.

Then they left.

Daniel. My father. The entire pack.

One by one, they turned their backs and walked out, their footsteps receding into silence, leaving me surrounded by nothing but the fading echo of their disdain.

And the cold.

The silence roared.

I stood alone, motionless, the weight of their rejection bearing down on me like a landslide. My jaw locked. My fingernails dug into my palms. My lungs refused to draw a full breath.

But beneath the pain, another emotion began to rise—quiet at first, but steady.

Not sorrow.

Not grief.

Resolve.

It whispered through me like steel in the dark, curling into the places where hope had once lived.

They had humiliated me. Betrayed me. Cast me aside.

But they had no idea what I truly was.

And what I would become.