Caleb's stepmother, Sheila Bolton, carried her own scars she had once birthed a daughter with Adam, but the pup had died before she could even grow into her howl. That grief carved a hollow into her heart, and when fate tossed Serena into her arms, she clung to her as if the girl were the moon herself.
Three winters after Caleb's mother's death, Adam brought Sheila into the den. She claimed her place as Luna, though her eyes had always carried suspicion when they landed on me. Perhaps it was because I stood where Serena could not. Perhaps it was because Serena's presence gave her leverage, and I was the obstacle.
When Serena saw Sheila, her voice was honey-sweet. "Dad, Mom," she chirped, sliding seamlessly into the family embrace.
Adam's gaze snapped toward Caleb, sharp as an Alpha's bite. "You ungrateful wolf. You finally slink back into the den after shaming the Boltons before the entire pack?" His voice echoed with dominance, every word meant to cut.
The memory of yesterday's humiliation clawed at me. At the height of my bond ceremony, with the pack gathered and eyes of the city fixed on us, Serena had whimpered through the bond that her chest ached. Caleb my mate rushed from my side without a second glance, leaving me to stand alone before sneering mouths and whispered scorn.
Now Serena buried herself in Adam's shadow, her tears shimmering like dew. "It's my fault," she whimpered, pressing her forehead against his chest. "I thought my heart was failing. I called for Caleb without thinking. I never meant to ruin the bond ceremony. If anger must fall, let it fall on me, not him."
Sheila, ever the serpent, pulled Serena into her arms, stroking her hair like a treasured pup. "Enough, child. Your chest has burned ever since Isabel threw you into the river all those years ago. And besides our allies didn't complain. Why should Adam roar louder than the storm? You did nothing wrong, my dear."
The same play. The same act. Over and over. For two long years, I had been forced to watch this dance. Every clash with Serena ended the same her whimpers smoothed into sympathy, and I was left gnawing on bitterness, blood in my mouth where I had bitten back my rage.
Caleb's eyes scanned the chamber, restless, sharp. His voice carried a note of urgency. "Father, where is Isabel?"
Adam's head snapped up, fury radiating from him. "How dare you even speak her name? Yesterday, you abandoned her beneath the gaze of the pack. She bore the humiliation, soothed the guests, and told us she would change out of her wedding pelt. But she never returned. She salvaged the Boltons' honor while you shredded her dignity beneath your paws!"
Caleb's expression faltered, shadows flickering across his face. For the first time, uncertainty cracked his mask. "You mean she hasn't returned? That can't be. She sent me her location last night."
I watched him draw out his device, his claws trembling against it, though he tried to mask it with composure. His voice was taut, almost a growl. "The trackers called me today. They said they found Isabel's wedding gown floating at Silver Shore …"
The weight of the words sank into the den, heavy as stone. My pelt prickled with cold fury. He had doubted me, abandoned me, and yet now, when my scent was lost to the river and my dress nothing more than a husk drifting among reeds, his instincts stirred too late.
And still, Serena's presence hung thick in the air, her eyes glimmering with silent triumph while the pack's suspicions fastened around me like chains.
I was the one marked cruel. She was the one cherished.
And Caleb my mate stood trapped between blood and bond, blind to the venom slowly devouring us all.
I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in my chest. Only now did he realize I was gone? Too late. Far too late.
"Where did she go? How should I know?" Adam's growl cut through the room, his dominance heavy in the air. "Did you even think about her when you abandoned the bond-rites? Now, what game are you pretending at?"
"Father, I'm going out."
"Caleb, I'll follow," Serena murmured, latching onto him like a vine clinging to a dying tree.
I watched his back as he left, his steps quick, edged with panic. It almost amused me. Panic now? After ripping my heart apart in front of the whole pack? The bond between us was ashes, and only now did he notice the void?
At Silver Shore, the pack's enforcers had already gathered, their scents mingling with the sharp bite of iron and river water. The air was heavy with suspicion, fear, and something colder death.
Caleb cut straight to the point, his tone clipped. "What exactly happened here?" His voice was more growl than words.
Nelson Tucker, the elder wolf who held the sheriff's post within the territory, stood tall, his silver-streaked fur showing through his arms where the shift itched just beneath his skin. His gaze was unyielding. "This morning, a wedding dress was spotted drifting in the river. A lone runner thought it was a corpse and called it in. We pulled it out, confirmed it's the same high-mark gown your mate wore for the bond ceremony."
Serena, ever the serpent, slithered into the silence. "Was anything else found besides the dress?"
Nelson's sharp gaze flicked her way, narrowing slightly. "No."
Serena sighed as if burdened, her voice dipped in false sweetness. "Elder, Isabel wouldn't toss her gown into the river just to wound the pack's pride, would she? She plays games like this often. We don't have the luxury to indulge her every whim."
Her words made bile rise in my throat. I wanted to leap at her, to claw away the mask she wore, but my spirit form was chained to silence.
Nelson's brows lifted, unimpressed. "And you are?"
"I'm Isabel's younger sister," Serena replied, voice trembling just enough to seem fragile. She lowered her eyes, playing at submission. "She's always deceived. When I was only five, she lured me outside the den, then shoved me into the river, trying to drown me. Even after I crawled back, she never stopped plotting against me. She wears the victim's pelt so well, manipulating everyone who comes near."
Her venom cut deep, though I'd heard these lies before. Still, it burned. My throat ached with the urge to scream my innocence, to bare the truth with teeth and claws. But who among them had ever listened? The pack always saw Serena's fragility, never my truth.
I prayed Nelson would see through her act. But his face remained unreadable, carved from stone.
Then his words dropped like a blade. "We found blood on the gown. We tested it. It matches Isabel's scent her blood. There were punctures as well, two wounds torn through the fabric. A sharp fang, or blade. If she wore it when it was pierced, she would've been struck in both abdomen and back."
His voice lowered, grim. "So we believe Isabel may have been harmed. Possibly fatally."
Caleb's hand shook where it held a clay cup, water sloshing over the rim, dripping across the table. His face blanched, the faint tremor of his wolf's fear clawing its way through his composure. For a heartbeat, I saw it the crack in his armor, the realization he could not ignore.
And yet, the bitter truth remained. He had ignored me when I called, denied me as his mate, spat on the bond that should have been sacred. Now, as he trembled before the weight of Nelson's words, I wondered was it guilt he felt, or only fear of the shame my death would bring upon his name?
I stood there, unseen, my ghost tethered by betrayal and grief, watching the mate I once would have given my life for finally falter too late.