LOGINElliott's POVThe murmurs swelled through the courtyard, a low, buzzing hive of whispers and judgmental glances. I glared out at the gathered pack members, my chest tight with a rising storm. "Silence!" My voice ripped through the air, sharp as a whip-crack. The sound died instantly, replaced by a suffocating quiet. Every eye was on Reylap, who stood beside me, her shoulders hunched, tears shimmering in her eyes. My wolf snarled. _She’s innocent. Don’t do this, Elliott. Don’t let them do this to her._My gaze softened as I turned to Reylap, ignoring the pressing weight of every person in the courtyard. "Reylap," I began, my voice low, just as I had in my study only moments ago. "Tell them."She looked up, her eyes wide and glistening. "I told you, Alpha," she started, her voice barely a whisper, but clear enough for all to hear in the sudden stillness. "I was with the others. Camille… she was convulsing. I was helping Madame Ana soothe her. All of us were there, for what felt like
Reylap's POV“No, no, no!” Eliott’s voice boomed, rattling the very air in the room. He yanked open the top drawer of his bedside table, a rough, impatient motion that made the wood groan. He didn’t just open it; he overturned it, sending a cascade of cufflinks, loose change, and what looked like old notes scattering across the polished floor. My breath hitched. He was furious. “It’s not here! It’s not here! Where is it?”My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. “Eliott, what… what are you looking for?”He didn't even look at me, his eyes wide and wild, scanning the room as if the answer might suddenly materialize on the ceiling. He moved to the next drawer, tearing it open with similar aggression, tossing aside stacks of folded shirts. “The necklace! My grandmother’s necklace! It’s gone!”“Gone?” The word was a whisper, a scared little thing in the sudden, vast silence of the ransacked room.He spun on me, his gaze sharp, accusing. “When was the last ti
Tilda's POV“If Reylap had been so innocent as she liked us to believe,” I fired back, my voice sharp enough to cut glass, “she wouldn’t have been kicked out of her pack in the first place. She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, plain and simple.”The words hung in the air, thick and rancid. Reylap’s face, usually so composed, crumpled. It was as if I’d reached across the small kitchen island and slapped her, hard. Her eyes widened, a flicker of something raw and hurt flashing through them before a blankness settled. She said nothing. Not a single word. She just turned on her heel, her back ramrod straight, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving the faint scent of her fear in her wake. I watched her go, a grim satisfaction settling in my chest. Good. Let her stew.I turned back to the counter, grabbing the ingredients for Syrn’s breakfast. The silence in the kitchen felt heavy now, but at least it wasn’t her silence. Scrambled eggs, toast, and a small bowl of berries. Standard. I assembled
Reylap's POVThe snap of a twig behind me was a whip against the silence. It ripped through the peaceful hum of the forest, the one I had almost lost myself in as I gathered herbs. My blood ran cold before my body even registered fear. I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs, and my worst nightmare stood there, solid and terrifying. A wolf. Not just any wolf. Its eyes, colder and hungrier than I remembered, glared at me. It was one of *them*. One of the rogues who had nearly torn me apart when the banishment first made me an outsider, before Elliott had found me bleeding and broken.It lunged. A blur of grey fur and snapping jaws. My body reacted on instinct, a desperate roll to the side. I felt the hot rake of its claws tear along my arm, a searing pain that jolted me fully awake. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline turning my limbs to jelly and steel at the same time. Run. That was the only thought. I pumped my legs, bare feet flying over roots and stones. The wolf was fast
Reylap's POVThe knife made a rhythmic thud against the cutting board, dicing carrots into neat, brightly colored rounds. The late-night quiet of the packhouse kitchen settled around me, broken only by my chopping and the low simmer of the stew on the stove. My thoughts, however, were far from peaceful."I just don't think it's a good idea, Elliott," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn't even turn to look at him, keeping my focus on the vegetables. "For me to take on such a huge role. Working alongside Rika as a pack healer? When half these people don't even think I'm worthy of living among them?"He sighed, the sound soft but resonant in the large kitchen. "Reylap, we’ve been over this. What they think doesn't matter."I snorted. "Easy for you to say. You're the Alpha, practically. You don't get the sideways glances, the whispers. The constant feeling that one wrong move and you'll be cast out." I sliced through a potato with more force than necessary."It will change," h
Elliott's POVI watched the knife fall rhythmically, a blur of silver against the pale onion skin. Reylap didn’t look up as I approached, the scent of fresh cut alliums stinging at my eyes. The warmth of the kitchen was a stark contrast to the chill I felt in my gut. “Reylap,” I started, my voice lower than I intended. The weight of it, the secret I’d carried, felt heavy on my tongue.She paused, just for a flicker, before the rhythmic thudding resumed. “Elliott,” she acknowledged, her tone even. “Something on your mind?”“Yeah, well, it’s… it’s about the rogues.” The words felt clumsy, inadequate. I shifted my weight, leaning against the doorframe, trying to appear nonchalant. “I think they’re hiding with our people.”The knife stopped. Silence stretched, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. She slowly turned, her gaze direct, unwavering. Those pale eyes seemed to pierce right through me. “Hiding *with* your people?” she repeated, her voice laced with skepticism. “As in, under
Elliott's POVI let the muttering fill the air, a low, dangerous hum that grated against my nerves. My jaw was locked so tight I felt the ache all the way to my ears. They talked in whispers, in hushed, cruel tones, but every word clawed at me. “Rogue.” “Danger.” “Outsider.” All aimed at her. All
Reylap's POV I ran. My lungs burned with every uneven stride, the forest a blur of dark shapes and shadows. Each branch that lashed at my face, each root that threatened to trip me, fueled my escape. I clutched the tattered remnants of my tunic, the only thing I had managed to salvage. “Please,”
Reylap’s POVI heard the music before I even reached the gates, and I knew it was a celebration. I could hear drums and voices and that particular kind of joy that carries across pack grounds when there's good news, and for one foolish, breathless second my heart lifted, because I thought it was fo
“No." Farida’s smile thinned slightly. “I said, kneel.”I looked at her slowly, exhaustion twisting inside me so violently I almost started laughing again. “You stole my ceremony, my mate, my title, and now you want my dignity too?” I tilted my head. “Greedy.”A sharp murmur spread through the roo







