After that brief encounter, my mother refused to see me again, retreating into the shadows of the forest.

I told myself I wouldn’t care. I assured myself that her answers were unnecessary. But the silence she left behind echoed louder than any explanation.

Returning home felt strange. The den, once filled with warmth and laughter, now felt cold and hollow. My father’s absence weighed heavy in the air, like a storm cloud that wouldn’t break.

I stepped carefully through the den, half-expecting to hear his deep voice or the sound of his steady footsteps. But there was nothing. Only the quiet creak of the wooden floor beneath my feet.

The walls were still decorated with pieces of our history, a wolf pelt from a hunt he’d led, trophies from pack challenges that once symbolized our strength and unity.

But now, these trophies served as heavy reminders of what we had lost.

I traced my fingers over the rough texture of his old leather belt, hanging from a hook near the door. His scent lingered faintly, and for a moment, it felt like he was still with me.

My heart squeezed painfully. My father had always been our rock—the one who stood between us and the dangers of the world. He protected the pack and led us with strength and wisdom, and now he was gone.

And my mother had let it happen.

I wanted to believe there was some reason for it—some hidden truth I hadn’t uncovered yet—but every time I tried to approach her, she shut me out. Her coldness cut deeper than any weapon ever could.

I sought comfort in Lucas. He had been by my side since we were pups—loyal and steady, even when the ground beneath us was crumbling. He understood my silence, never pushing me for more than I could give.

On the hardest nights, when sleep refused to come, Lucas would sit with me beneath the stars. He’d hold my hand, letting the quiet night fill the space between us until my breathing slowed.

Three moons passed. The pack was still trying to find its footing without my father’s leadership, but life carried on. Lucas and I decided it was time to take the next step—our sacred bond ceremony beneath the full moon.

The night before the ceremony, Lucas and I sat beneath the ancient oak tree near the den. The moonlight filtered through the branches, casting soft shadows across his face.

He turned toward me, his dark eyes searching mine. “Willow,” he said gently, “your mother is back now, but you still haven’t invited her to the ceremony.”

I stiffened.

He took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Is the rift between you two still that deep?”

I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. “It’s not just a rift, Lucas. It’s everything. My father was our protector, our strength. And then she said a few words, and he was gone.”

He was quiet for a moment, his arm tightening around me.

“Maybe there’s more to it,” he said softly. “Maybe she didn’t mean to hurt him. She lost him too, you know.”

I closed my eyes, trying to let his words sink in. I didn’t want to think about her pain. I was too caught up on my own.

“What if it’s not that simple?” I whispered. “What if she knew exactly what she was doing?”

He pulled back slightly, his dark brows furrowed. “Do you really believe that?”

I hesitated.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just… I want to know why.”

“Then maybe you need to ask her,” Lucas said. “Not to accuse her—but to understand.”

His words lingered in the air, pressing against the walls I had built around my heart.

He brushed his fingers along my jaw, tilting my face toward his. “Whatever happened… you deserve answers.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Lucas had always been my steady place. He was the one constant in my life, even when everything else crumbled.

And maybe he was right.

My mother was the only family I had left. If there was even a small chance of healing the distance between us, I had to try.

Filled with hesitation—and hope—I resolved to send her an invitation to our ceremony.

The next morning, I stood at the edge of the forest, clutching the small envelope in my hand. My fingers trembled as I walked toward the old path leading to her cabin.

The frost-covered leaves crunched beneath my boots. The air was sharp and cold, biting at my cheeks.

When I reached the cabin, I hesitated. Through the window, I saw her sitting near the fire, her long silver hair falling over her shoulders.

My heart pounded as I knocked lightly on the door.

After a long moment, the door creaked open.

My mother stood there, her gaze steady but unreadable. Her pale eyes flicked to the envelope in my hand.

“What is it?” Her voice was calm, but her expression gave nothing away.

I held the envelope out toward her. “It’s an invitation. Lucas and I are bonding tomorrow night.”

She took the envelope, studying it like it might burn her fingers.

“I… I want you to be there,” I said.

Her gaze lifted to mine. I saw something flicker there—surprise, maybe even pain—but it was gone in an instant.

For a moment, I thought she might refuse.

Then, to my surprise, she said, “I’ll think about it.”

It wasn’t much. But it was something.

As I walked back toward the den, the cold air stinging my cheeks, I realized my heart felt a little lighter.

I didn’t know if my mother would come.

But at least I had reached out.

The day of the ceremony arrived, bright and bustling under the protective gaze of the full moon. The clearing was alive with activity. Wolves from packs across the land gathered, their voices blending into a low hum that filled the crisp night air.

My heart hammered painfully in my chest as I stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the crowd swell. Pack leaders, warriors, and elders stood in tight clusters, exchanging low murmurs. Their expressions ranged from quiet curiosity to thinly veiled suspicion. This wasn’t just a ceremony—it was a reckoning.

The scent of burning sage and pine lingered in the air, sharp and familiar. It was meant to cleanse the energy, to usher in peace. But I could feel the tension beneath the surface. An unease that curled beneath my skin.

Then I saw her.

My mother stood at the far end of the crowd, her figure frail beneath the glow of the moonlight. Her long silver hair was pulled back into a braid, and her sharp blue eyes swept over the gathering with cool detachment.

Years had worn her down. Her once regal posture was tinged with stiffness, and the hollowness beneath her eyes spoke of too many restless nights. But there was still something sharp about her gaze—something calculating that made my stomach twist.

Despite the weight of time on her body, she stood tall. Composed. Unyielding.

“Are you ready?”

Lucas’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. His hand found mine, his warmth steadying my trembling fingers.

I glanced at him. His dark eyes reflected the soft glow of the moon, his jaw tense beneath the weight of the moment. His black hair fell just over his brow, and when he smiled faintly, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I think so,” I whispered.

The pack leader stepped onto the ceremonial platform. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his cloak of deep crimson lined with fur. His gaze swept over the crowd as he raised his hands, signaling for silence.

“It is time,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Tonight, we bear witness to the union of two souls beneath the light of the full moon.”

The crowd stilled. Breathless anticipation settled over the clearing as Lucas and I stepped toward the platform. My heart beat wildly in my chest as his hand tightened around mine.

Lucas’s gaze was steady as he stood beside me, his shoulders straight. “It’ll be over soon,” he murmured. “We’ve got this.”

But the tension in his eyes betrayed his calm tone.

The pack leader raised his hands toward the moon. “Willow Hale and Lucas Blackthorn, do you stand willingly before the pack to pledge your bond?”

“Yes,” Lucas said without hesitation.

“Yes,” I echoed, though my throat tightened around the world.

The pack leader lowered his hands. “And if any soul here has cause to challenge this union, speak now.”

A ripple of silence stretched through the crowd. I scanned the faces—some tense, others carefully guarded. My gaze drifted toward my mother.

And then she moved.

My mother stepped forward, the crowd parting around her like water. My pulse quickened as she walked toward the platform with measured grace.

“I have a message for my daughter,” she said, her voice steady but cold.

Lucas’s hand tightened around mine. I could feel the shift in the air—the sudden chill of uncertainty.

My mother climbed the steps with a quiet authority that made the pack leader hesitate. Her gaze settled on me, sharp and unyielding.

“You deserve to know the truth,” she said.

My chest tightened. “What truth?”

Her gaze shifted toward Lucas. “About him.”

Lucas’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but then his eyes widened.

Suddenly, his entire body tensed. His breath hitched, and a strange, haunted look crossed his face.

“Lucas?” I whispered.

He stumbled backward, his hand slipping from mine. His chest heaved as his gaze darted wildly across the crowd, his pupils blown wide with terror.

“Lucas!” I reached for him, but he jerked away.

“No—no—I can’t—” His voice cracked. His hands flew to his head as if trying to block out a sound only he could hear.

Then he turned toward the cliff.

My breath caught.

“No!” I screamed, but he was already moving.

He bolted toward the edge of the cliff, his breath ragged and shallow. His feet pounded against the earth as he sprinted, his dark figure illuminated beneath the silver light of the moon.

“Lucas!”

I lunged after him, my feet flying beneath me. He was fast—too fast.

He reached the edge—

And jumped.

“No!”

My scream tore through the air as his body plummeted down the rocky cliffside.

Thud.

The sound hit me like a hammer to the chest. A brutal, sickening crack that made my knees give out beneath me.

A chilling silence fell over the ceremony.

Gasps and cries erupted as wolves rushed toward the edge of the cliff. My heart slammed painfully against my ribs as I stumbled forward.

Lucas’s body lay twisted among the jagged rocks below. His dark hair was splayed around his head, and his limbs were bent at unnatural angles.

“Lucas!”

I dropped to my knees, my breath ragged and broken.

Someone’s hand gripped my arm—my mother’s. Her face was pale, her lips parted in shock.

“Willow,” she whispered.

“No,” I choked out. My chest tightened painfully as tears blurred my vision. “No, no, no—”

Lucas’s chest wasn’t moving. His body was still. Lifeless.

I tore away from my mother’s grasp and stumbled toward the edge. My hands curled into the cold dirt as I screamed down toward him.

“Lucas!”

No response.

My throat burned as sobs ripped through me. The world blurred around me—whispers, screams, the sound of wolves moving. None of it mattered.

My mother’s hand touched my shoulder. “Willow—”

“Why?” My voice was hoarse and broken.

She shook her head, her eyes glistening with something that almost looked like regret. “I didn’t know this would happen.”

“Then why?” My voice rose in desperation. “Why was he so terrified?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

The pack leader’s voice cut through the chaos. “We need to bring him up.”

Several wolves began to descend the cliffside.

I sat frozen, tears streaming down my face. My body felt hollow—like something vital had been ripped from me.

Lucas’s hand had been in mine only moments ago. His breath. His warmth. His heartbeat.

And now, he is gone.

Lucas was gone.

He died in the middle of the joyful celebration of our union, turning happiness into heartbreak in an instant.

The weight of my mother’s words hung heavily in the air like a storm cloud, dark and oppressive. The air seemed colder, the warmth of the celebration instantly replaced by a chilling emptiness. The sound of joyful music had faded, leaving only stunned silence and the faint rustle of the wind through the trees.

The other wolves gathered, frantic and demanding, their eyes wide with shock and confusion as they turned toward my mother. Their breaths came in sharp, panicked bursts, the scent of fear and grief thickening the air.

"What did you say?" Lucas’s father screamed, his voice raw with rage and grief. His face was pale, his fists trembling at his sides. "Why would he jump? Why would he leave us like this?"

“Why did you come here to destroy our happiness?” another voice shouted, fury simmering beneath the heavy weight of grief.

My mother, usually fierce and proud, stood still as stone. Her face was calm—too calm for the chaos swirling around us. Her expression was devoid of emotion, as if none of this touched her.

"He chose that path himself; it has nothing to do with me," she said, her voice cold and steady.

Her chilling calmness sent ice through my veins.

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Wolves shifted uncomfortably, some glancing toward Lucas’s lifeless body, others glaring at my mother with barely concealed rage.

My chest tightened as I turned toward her, confusion and anger crashing together inside me.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice shaking with despair. "First Dad… and now Lucas! Why do you keep destroying everything?”

For the briefest moment, I saw a flicker of something in her eyes—pain, maybe regret—but it vanished almost instantly, replaced by a hard, steely resolve.

"I did what I had to do," she said. "You don’t understand. It’s better this way."

Her words hit me like a slap. Cold and unforgiving.

"Better?" My voice cracked. "Lucas was everything to me! He loved me! He protected me!"

The image of Lucas’s face flashed in my mind—the shock in his eyes right before he fell. His outstretched hand, reaching for me, before his body disappeared over the ledge.

The murmurs from the pack grew louder, swelling into shouts of outrage.

"You’re a monster!" someone yelled.

"She’s the reason our alpha is gone!" another voice called out.

"She killed him!"

The anger and grief in the air felt suffocating. The wolves' eyes glinted dangerously as the tension built. Muscles tensed, claws extended. Some wolves were on the verge of shifting.

But my mother remained unmoved, her face an unreadable mask.

"Control your grief," she said sharply. "He chose to leave."

Her voice was cutting and cold, slicing through the noise.

Lucas’s father’s chest heaved, his eyes flashing amber. "You— you did something. What did you say to him?"

My mother’s gaze sharpened. "You wouldn’t understand."

"Try me!" he roared.

The pack’s anger flared hotter. The tension cracked like lightning, pressing down on us all.

"Arrest her! She's the cause of our chaos!" a wolf shouted, and others echoed the call.

My mother’s eyes darkened. Slowly, she turned to face them. Her expression was eerily calm, almost unnervingly empty.

"You don’t know what you’re dealing with," she warned, her voice low and dangerous.

Shadows seemed to thicken around her as she stepped back. The air itself seemed to pulse with the weight of her presence.

"Stop her!" someone cried.

Two enforcers stepped toward her, their postures stiff with aggression.

My mother’s eyes narrowed.

The ground beneath her feet seemed to tremble, and a sharp crack echoed through the clearing. A cold wind swept through the gathered wolves, chilling even the bravest among them.

"Stand down." Her voice was laced with a quiet threat.

The enforcers froze, exchanging uncertain glances.

My heart hammered painfully in my chest. "Mother— please."

Her gaze flicked toward me—just for a second. There was something in her eyes. Regret? Sorrow? But then it was gone.

Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving behind a storm of devastation and unanswered questions.

I stood there, trembling, the image of Lucas’s lifeless body burned into my mind. The warmth of his touch. His smile. Gone.

The crowd began to dissolve into chaos.

But I remained frozen, my mother’s final words echoing in my head.

"It’s better this way."

Why did it feel like the end of everything?