Aveline’s POV
I could barely recognize myself when I finally stepped foot back into Thorndike territory. My body was weak, my spirit even weaker, but what truly weighed me down was the betrayal festering in my chest like a poisoned wound. Every breath tasted of ash, and every memory of Alaric burned like fire in my veins.
I almost married that man. I almost gave my life, my future, my heart, all of me, to someone who could stage his death and walk away as if I were nothing.
Coward. Liar. Betrayer.
The words looped in my head until I felt sick.
I told myself that faking my death had been the only way out of that hellhole. And it was true. But truth didn’t soothe the bitterness. No, it sharpened it. I had been driven to such an extreme because of Alaric, because of Elowen, because of the Vandolph Pack that coddled lies and drowned me in humiliation.
I would never forgive him. Not in this lifetime.
As I crossed the familiar gates of Thorndike, the scent of pine and mountain air hit me, wrapping me in the comfort of home. This was where I belonged, where my blood ran deep into the soil. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it until now.
The first person I saw was my mother, Luna Grecia. She rushed toward me the moment her eyes landed on me, her face wet with tears. “Aveline!” Her voice broke as she pulled me into her arms, clutching me as if she’d never let go again.
“Mother,” I whispered, my throat tightening. I hadn’t cried since I left Vandolph, but now, against her embrace, my dam nearly broke.
“My child, my sweet girl,” she murmured into my hair. “You’re home. You’re safe now.”
Behind her, my father, Alpha Gregory, stood tall. But even an Alpha’s stoic mask couldn’t hide the way his eyes glistened. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, fury rippling through his aura. When I stepped out of Mother’s arms, he came forward and held me by the shoulders.
“They will pay,” he growled. His voice was low, trembling with a dangerous promise. “Vandolph dared to treat my daughter this way, dared to—” He cut himself off, grinding his teeth. “They will have no ties with Thorndike ever again.”
A sob tore from my chest, not because of weakness, but because of relief. “Father…”
“You don’t need to say a word.” His jaw tightened, but his eyes softened when he looked at me. “You’re home now, Aveline. That’s all that matters.”
I nodded, though anger still gnawed at me. “I can’t believe I almost—” My voice cracked. “—almost gave my life to Alaric.”
Mother’s arms wrapped around me again, as if shielding me from the very name. “Don’t you speak of him again. He’s not worth your breath.”
“I won’t.” I forced my tears back. “He’ll never see my face again.”
And I meant it. I would never look back. Never meet that man again in my life. Let him rot in his own lies with Elowen clinging to him like a parasite. I was done.
The Thorndike Pack received me with open arms. Wolves I grew up with, warriors who once sparred with me in training, omegas who served in the kitchens—all of them gathered around, offering embraces, smiles, tears of joy. Their happiness at my return was like a balm to my battered soul.
“You should rest,” Mother insisted once the greetings quieted.
But before I could retire, I noticed a group of strangers near the edge of the training grounds. Their scents were different. Stronger, sharper—like steel and storm. Lycans.
I frowned. “Father, why are there lycans here?”
He followed my gaze, his expression unreadable. “They’re not enemies. They came seeking refuge.”
“Refuge?” My brow furrowed. Lycans rarely mingled with packs.
“They’re tired,” Father explained. “Tired of endless battles, of living on the edge every day. You know their kind has been hunted and threatened for decades. Some wanted a quieter life, away from the bloodshed. Thorndike offered them sanctuary.”
Mother nodded in agreement. “They are warriors no less, but even warriors grow weary.”
I studied them from a distance. They were taller, broader, carrying an air of restrained power. Even in stillness, their presence was commanding. I should’ve been wary, but instead, curiosity tugged at me.
“They’re different,” I murmured.
“Different, yes,” Father said. “But they will follow our laws while they stay here. That is all that matters.”
I nodded slowly, though unease lingered. My thoughts wandered to the rumors I had overheard even before returning—rumors about the lycan princes.
Two of them, heirs of a bloodline both feared and revered. The older was said to be the steady one, the one wolves could admire. But the younger… they called him dangerous. Evil. Ruthless.
I pushed the thought aside. Princes and politics had nothing to do with me anymore. I had too much to heal from, too much to rebuild inside myself. I wouldn’t waste a single heartbeat thinking about men—lycan or wolf.
As I finally retreated to my chambers, I sat by the window and stared at the forest stretching out beneath the twilight sky. The moon was rising, silver and solemn. My wolf stirred faintly inside me, weary but alive.
“You’re home,” I whispered to her, to myself.
Yet even in the peace of my own room, rage simmered beneath my skin. Rage at Alaric, at Elowen, at the life they stole from me and the baby they forced me to lose.
I pressed a hand to my stomach, eyes burning. “Never again,” I vowed. “No one will ever break me like that again.”
For the first time since that nightmare, I felt something new stir within me—not weakness, not despair, but resolve. Revengeful, perhaps. But above all, determined.
