Aria's POV
The scream wakes me up.
I bolt upright in bed, my heart hammering. It's the middle of the night. The scream came from downstairs.
Mom.
I throw off my blankets and run. My feet barely touch the stairs as I race down them.
"MOM!"
Dad's voice booms through the house. "Elena! ELENA!"
I burst into the living room and freeze.
Mom hangs from the chandelier, a rope around her neck. Her feet dangle. Her eyes are closed. Her face is blue.
"NO!" I scream.
Dad is trying to cut her down, his hands shaking so badly he can barely hold the knife. Pack members pour into the room. Someone pushes me aside. Dr. Hayes rushes forward.
But I can see the truth in everyone's faces.
We're too late.
Mom is gone.
That was two weeks ago.
Now I sit in the corner of the kitchen, trying to be invisible. Dad stumbles past me for the fourth time today, a whiskey bottle in his hand. He doesn't see me. Hasn't really seen me since Mom died.
The house smells like alcohol and death.
"Your father needs time," Dr. Hayes told me yesterday. "He's lost his wife and daughter in one month. Give him space."
But space feels like abandonment.
I pick at the bruise on my arm. Sarah, a pack member's daughter, gave it to me this morning. She pushed me down the stairs and called me a curse. Said my family was better off without me.
Nobody punished her.
Nobody cares what happens to me anymore.
The kitchen door opens. Beta Damien walks in, his dark eyes scanning the room until they land on me. He's been doing that a lot lately—watching me. It makes my skin crawl.
"Hello, little Alpha," he says smoothly.
I'm not an Alpha. Not anymore. Everyone knows it.
"Where's your father?" Damien asks.
I point to Dad's office. Damien nods and walks away, but not before giving me one last strange look. Like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve.
I wait until he's gone, then slip out the back door. The pack house feels like a prison. Outside isn't much better, but at least I can breathe.
I walk to the edge of pack territory where the forest begins. This is as far as I'm allowed to go. Any farther and I'd be trespassing on neutral land.
"Look, it's the murderer."
I spin around. Three pack kids stand behind me—all older, all bigger. I recognize them from school.
"My mom says you killed your sister on purpose," the tallest one says. His name is Jake. "She says you were jealous of her."
"That's not true," I whisper.
"Then why is she dead and you're alive?" Another kid steps closer. "My dad says you're cursed. That everything you touch dies."
"Your mom died too," Jake adds with a cruel smile. "Two weeks after Lily. That's not a coincidence."
"Stop," I beg.
"Make me." Jake shoves me hard.
I fall backward into the dirt. They laugh.
"Cursed," they chant. "Cursed, cursed, cursed."
They kick dirt at me and walk away, still laughing.
I stay on the ground, too tired to get up. Too broken to care.
That's when I see Damien again. He's standing at the tree line, half-hidden in shadows. Watching me. When our eyes meet, he smiles.
It's not a nice smile.
Then he turns and disappears into the forest.
What is he doing out here?
That night, I wake up to shouting.
I creep to the top of the stairs and peek down. Dad stands in the entrance hall, swaying drunk. Pack elders surround him. They're all talking at once.
"Marcus, you can't keep living like this—"
"The pack needs their Alpha—"
"You have responsibilities—"
"GET OUT!" Dad roars. He throws his bottle at them. It smashes against the wall. "All of you, get out of my house!"
The elders leave, shaking their heads.
Dad collapses on the stairs, his head in his hands. I watch him cry alone in the dark.
I want to go to him. Want to hug him like I used to when I was little. Want to tell him I'm sorry for everything.
But I know he doesn't want comfort from me.
I'm the reason he lost everything.
Three days later, Dad calls a pack meeting.
Everyone gathers in the main hall. I stand at the back, trying to disappear. The pack members won't look at me. They shift away when I get too close, like I have a disease.
Dad walks to the front. He's sober for the first time in weeks, but that almost makes it worse. His eyes are clear and cold and empty.
"I've made a decision," he announces. His voice echoes in the silent room. "About my daughter."
My heart stops.
"Aria Nightshade brought death to this pack." Dad's voice doesn't shake. "She killed my youngest daughter. Her recklessness drove my mate to suicide. She is a curse on this family and this pack."
No. No, no, no.
"According to pack law," Dad continues, "an Alpha has the right to exile any member who threatens the pack's safety and wellbeing."
"Marcus, she's just a child—" Dr. Hayes starts.
"She's a killer," Dad snaps. "And I will not have her under my roof any longer."
He finally looks at me. His eyes are dead. Empty. Like he's looking at a stranger.
"Aria Nightshade," he says formally. "I, Alpha Marcus Nightshade, hereby revoke your pack membership. You are no longer part of the Nightshade Pack. You are no longer my daughter."
The words slam into me like a physical blow.
"You have until sunrise to leave pack territory," Dad says. "If you're found here after that, you will be killed as a rogue trespasser. Do you understand?"
I can't speak. Can't breathe. Can't think.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Dad roars.
"Yes," I whisper.
The word breaks something inside me.
Dad turns his back on me. "Meeting dismissed. Someone escort the rogue out."
Rogue. He called me a rogue.
Cole, the warrior who found me at the river, steps forward. His face is sad but he doesn't argue with his Alpha.
"Come on, Aria," he says gently. "Let's get your things."
I follow him in a daze. The pack members part around us, whispering. Some look relieved. Others look satisfied. A few look guilty, but none of them speak up.
Nobody defends me.
Nobody says this is wrong.
In my room, I throw clothes into a backpack with shaking hands. Cole watches from the doorway.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "This isn't right. You're just a child."
"Then stop him," I beg. "Please. You're the head warrior. You can—"
"I can't go against the Alpha." Cole looks away. "Nobody can. Pack law is absolute."
I grab my backpack and push past him. I don't have much—some clothes, a photo of Lily, a necklace Mom gave me.
Everything I own fits in one bag.
At the pack border, Dad waits. The whole pack stands behind him, watching.
"You will not return," Dad says coldly. "You will not contact anyone in this pack. You are dead to us. Do you understand?"
I nod, tears streaming down my face.
"Say it," Dad demands.
"I understand." My voice cracks.
"Then go." He points to the forest beyond our territory. "And pray to the Moon Goddess that another pack shows you mercy. Because I have none left to give."
I take one step forward. Then another.
Behind me, someone whispers, "She won't survive a week."
Another voice: "Good riddance."
I walk into the forest alone. Eight years old. Exiled. Rogue.
The most dangerous thing a wolf can be is packless. We're meant to live in groups, protected by our Alpha and family.
Now I have no one.
I walk until I can't see the pack lights anymore. Until I'm surrounded by darkness and strange sounds.
Then I collapse against a tree and sob.
I cry for Lily. For Mom. For Dad. For everything I've lost.
I cry until there are no tears left.
When I finally look up, I see headlights on the dirt road nearby. A black SUV drives slowly past, like the driver is looking for something.
The vehicle stops.
The window rolls down.
A man leans out. He's older—maybe in his twenties. His eyes are strange, almost silver in the moonlight. They seem to glow.
"What do we have here?" His voice is deep and cold. "A little rogue cub, all alone."
I scramble backward, terrified.
The man studies me with those weird silver eyes. "How old are you? Six? Seven?"
"Eight," I whisper.
"Eight." He laughs, but it's not a kind laugh. "You're newly exiled. I can smell it on you. Your pack scent is still fresh."
"Please don't hurt me," I beg.
"Hurt you?" The man tilts his head. "No, little rogue. I'm not going to hurt you."
Relief floods through me.
"But I'm not going to help you either." His smile is cruel. "You won't survive a week out here. A child alone in neutral territory? You'll be dead by morning."
"I'll survive," I say, trying to sound brave.
"Sure you will." He starts rolling up the window. "Good luck, little rogue. You're going to need it."
The SUV drives away, leaving me alone in the dark.
I stare after it, my heart pounding.
Those silver eyes. They reminded me of something. Something important.
But I'm too scared and tired to figure out what.
I curl up under the tree, my backpack as a pillow, and pray I survive until sunrise.
I don't know that the man in the SUV will change my life forever.
I don't know that in ten years, those silver eyes will look at me with love instead of cruelty.
I don't know that he's my mate.
And I definitely don't know that Beta Damien is watching from the shadows, smiling as his plan unfolds perfectly.
Because Damien didn't just let Lily die.
He orchestrated everything—the drowning, Mom's suicide, Dad's spiral, my exile.
And now phase one is complete.
The twin moon children are separated.
Exactly as he planned.