POV: Aria Blackthorn
The silver chains burned.
I stood in the center of the Blackthorn ceremonial hall with my wrists bound, surrounded by three hundred wolves who wanted me dead. The metal bit into my skin like frozen fire, but I refused to flinch. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
This was supposed to be Lyanna's celebration. My sister's Luna Ceremony—the night her rare silver wolf would be revealed to every major pack in North America. Instead, it became my execution.
Aria Blackthorn, the Pack Guard Commander's voice boomed across the marble hall. You stand accused of attempting to steal your sister's wolf through dark magic.
Liar.
But I couldn't say it. Not with three hundred pairs of glowing eyes fixed on me like I was prey. Not with my father sitting on his throne, looking at me like I was something rotting he'd found on his shoe.
Twenty-four hours ago, Lyanna had been spinning me around the garden, laughing. We'll always be sisters, Ria. No matter what.
Now she stood beside Father in a silver gown that caught the light like moonbeams, tears streaming down her perfect face. I tried to protect her, she sobbed to the crowd. I knew something was wrong, but I never thought my own sister would
Her voice cracked beautifully. The crowd murmured with sympathy.
I wanted to vomit.
Evidence, the Commander continued, gesturing to a table where glass vials gleamed. Dark magic residue found in the accused's chambers. Her magical signature detected on the Luna Vault seals. Three witnesses who saw her perform the ritual.
All planted. All lies.
But I had no proof. No allies. No wolf to defend me.
Because I was wolfless. The only Blackthorn in three generations born without a wolf. A defect. A stain on our perfect bloodline.
The accused may speak, the Commander said, though his tone suggested he hoped I wouldn't.
I lifted my chin and met my father's eyes. Alpha Marcus Blackthorn, the man who hadn't looked at me in ten years unless forced to. The man who'd loved my mother desperately and blamed me for her death in childbirth.
I didn't do this, I said clearly. My voice didn't shake, even though everything inside me was screaming.
Liar! Someone shouted from the crowd.
Others joined in. The hall erupted with snarls and accusations. I felt the weight of their hatred like physical blows.
Father raised his hand. Silence fell immediately.
Do you deny entering the Luna Vault? he asked. His voice was cold, empty.
I deny stealing anything from it.
Technically true. I had gone to the vault—Lyanna had asked me to retrieve her mother's ceremonial necklace. Said she wanted something from both our mothers for the ceremony. I'd been stupid enough to believe her.
Your magical signature doesn't lie, Father said.
Then someone used my blood to fake it. I looked directly at Lyanna. Someone who had access to my chambers. My hairbrush. My belongings.
Lyanna's tears increased. How can you accuse me? After everything
Enough. Father's command cracked like a whip. He stood, and the entire hall seemed to hold its breath.
He was magnificent in his Alpha power—tall, broad-shouldered, radiating authority. Once upon a time, I'd dreamed of making him proud. Of finally being worthy of his attention.
Now I just wanted to survive.
Aria Blackthorn, he said, and something in his expression shifted. For just a second, his eyes went to the portrait of my mother hanging above his throne. She was beautiful, dark-haired and smiling. The woman he'd loved more than anything.
The woman I'd killed by being born.
Was that... guilt in his eyes?
Then it was gone.
You have brought shame to this pack. Shame to the Blackthorn name. You are no daughter of mine. His voice rang through the hall. You are nothing.
The words hit harder than any physical blow. I felt something inside me crack—not break, but transform. Hardening into something cold and sharp.
The sentence for wolf theft is death, Father continued.
The crowd roared approval. Some shifted partially, wolves surfacing with hunger in their eyes. They wanted blood. My blood.
But Lyanna stepped forward, her silver wolf glowing beneath her skin. It was beautiful—ethereal and powerful. Everything I should have been.
Except... was it flickering? For just a moment, the light seemed to glitch, like a broken hologram.
Father, please, Lyanna begged. She's still my sister. Show mercy.
The crowd quieted, surprised.
I wasn't surprised. This was part of the plan. Whatever she was doing, it wasn't mercy.
Father looked at her, then back at me. What mercy would you suggest?
Silvercrest Academy. Lyanna's voice was soft, broken. Let her be the human test subject. If she survives, she'll have proven humans can coexist with wolves. If she doesn't... She trailed off meaningfully.
The crowd murmured. Everyone knew what happened to humans at Silvercrest—the most elite werewolf academy in North America, hidden deep in the mountains. No human lasted more than a month.
It was a death sentence with extra steps.
In the back of the hall, I noticed him for the first time—a tall man with silver hair and eyes that looked ancient. He wasn't reacting like everyone else. He was watching me with intense interest, and when our eyes met, he smiled.
It wasn't a kind smile.
Silvercrest Academy, Father repeated slowly, or execution. Choose.
I looked at Lyanna. Really looked at her. Saw the triumph hiding behind her tears. Saw the way her fingers curled with satisfaction.
She'd orchestrated everything. My perfect, beloved little sister had destroyed me.
And suddenly, I understood. This wasn't about shame or disappointment. This was about power. About eliminating the defective older daughter so the perfect younger one could shine without competition.
I smiled. The expression felt foreign on my face—sharp and dangerous.
Several wolves actually stepped back.
I choose survival, I said clearly. Then I leaned toward Lyanna, close enough that only she could hear my next words. And when I come back, sister, you'll wish you'd killed me when you had the chance.
Lyanna's mask slipped for just a second. Her eyes flashed with something dark and satisfied.
You should have died when Mother did, she whispered back.
The chains came off. Guards grabbed my arms. As they dragged me toward the doors, I caught one more glimpse of that strange man in the crowd.
He was still smiling.
And somehow, I knew—whatever waited for me at Silvercrest Academy was far more dangerous than execution.
It was destiny.