The cabin sat at the edge of Silvercrest territory, half-hidden by pines. I approached slowly, my boots crunching through the snow. The air was still. Too still.
My wolf stirred uneasily.
I reached for the door handle. Before I could touch it, they came.
Six rogues burst from the tree line—coordinated, fast, fanning out to surround me. No hesitation. No warning. They'd been waiting.
I shifted my weight and dropped low as the first one lunged. My fist connected with his jaw. Bone cracked. He went down hard.
The second came from behind. I spun, drove my elbow into his ribs, and felt them give. He stumbled back, wheezing.
But there were four more.
Claws raked across my shoulder. Pain exploded white-hot down my arm. I twisted away, kicked out, caught someone's knee. Another rogue grabbed my hair and yanked. My scalp screamed. I threw my head back, felt the impact, heard him curse.
They were stronger than me. Faster. And they knew exactly what they were doing.
A fist slammed into my stomach. Air left my lungs. I doubled over. Someone kicked my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, snow and dirt grinding into my cheek.
Panic clawed up my throat.
I reached through the mate bond—desperate, instinctive—and screamed his name.
*Holden!*
The bond flared. He was close. I felt him moving, felt him respond, felt the pull of him rushing toward me.
Relief flooded through me so fast it hurt.
He was coming. He would fix this. He would save me.
Footsteps pounded through the snow. The rogues hesitated, heads turning.
Holden broke through the tree line.
I tried to push myself up. Blood ran warm down my arm. My shoulder throbbed. But I smiled—God, I smiled—because he was here.
"Holden—"
His hand cracked across my face.
The world tilted. My cheek exploded in pain. I tasted copper. My lip split open, blood hot on my tongue.
I stared up at him.
He stood over me, chest heaving, grey eyes cold. Colder than I'd ever seen them. Like I was nothing. Like I was a stranger.
"You set this up," he said.
The words didn't make sense.
"What?"
"The attack." His voice was flat. Final. "You orchestrated this to frame the pack. To make yourself look like a victim."
"No." I shook my head. Blood dripped from my chin. "No, I didn't—Holden, I didn't do anything—"
"Don't lie to me."
Movement at the edge of my vision. A figure stepped from the tree line, composed and elegant even in the snow.
London Bell.
She looked at me with soft, sympathetic eyes. The kind of eyes that said she was so, so sorry this had to happen.
"It's over, Ariella," she said gently. "We know everything."
The rogues scattered. Silent. Coordinated. Like they'd been given a signal I couldn't see.
I looked back at Holden. My mate. The wolf the Moon Goddess gave me.
"Please," I whispered. "Please, you have to believe me."
He didn't answer.
London stepped forward and took his arm. Her hand rested on his sleeve like it belonged there. Like she'd done it a thousand times before.
Holden didn't pull away.
Two wolves I didn't recognize grabbed my arms and hauled me to my feet. Pain shot through my injured shoulder. I bit back a scream.
"Take her to the pack house," London said quietly. "Alpha Joseph is waiting."
They dragged me through the snow. I didn't fight. I couldn't. My body was shutting down, shock and pain and something worse—something breaking inside me that had nothing to do with the wounds.
I looked back once.
Holden stood beside London, watching me go. His face was carved from stone. His scent—cedar smoke and winter rain—drifted toward me on the wind.
It smelled like goodbye.
The judgment chamber was all dark wood and cold stone. Silvercrest's crest hung on the wall behind the Alpha's seat—a silver moon over crossed claws.
Alpha Joseph Morgan sat in that seat now. My father. The man whose blood I carried. The man who had never once looked at me before today.
He looked at me now.
I stood in the center of the room, wrists bound in silver cuffs that burned. Blood had dried on my face. My shoulder screamed with every breath. But I kept my chin up.
London stood to the Alpha's right, poised and perfect. She held a folder—thick, official-looking.
Holden stood beside her.
"Ariella Morgan," Alpha Joseph said. His voice was measured. Tired. "You stand accused of conspiring with rogues to attack pack members and fabricate evidence of persecution."
"I didn't," I said. My voice cracked. "I didn't do any of that."
London opened the folder. She pulled out documents, laid them on the table with careful precision.
"Communications between Ariella and known rogue contacts," she said softly. "Timestamps match the weeks leading up to today's attack. Financial transfers. Meeting locations."
I stared at the papers. I'd never seen them before in my life.
"Those aren't real," I said. "I don't know those people. I've never—"
"The evidence is clear," London interrupted gently. She looked at Alpha Joseph with wide, earnest eyes. "I know this is difficult. But we have to protect the pack."
I turned to my father. "Please. I'm your daughter. Doesn't that mean anything?"
Alpha Joseph's expression didn't change. "If you were truly my daughter, you would never have put this pack at risk."
The words hit like a physical blow.
"I didn't," I whispered. "I swear I didn't."
No one spoke.
I looked at Holden. My mate. The bond between us was still there—faint, muted, but there.
"Holden," I said. "Tell them. Tell them I wouldn't do this."
He met my eyes. For one heartbeat, I thought I saw something flicker. Doubt. Regret.
Then it was gone.
"I'm sorry, Ariella," he said quietly. "But the evidence doesn't lie."
Something inside me shattered.
Alpha Joseph stood. "You are a threat to this pack's security. You will be confined until we determine the full extent of your conspiracy."
"No—" I lunged forward. The guards caught me, slammed me back. Silver burned my wrists. "No, please, you have to listen—"
"Take her to the basement," Alpha Joseph said.
They dragged me from the chamber. I screamed. I fought. I called for Holden through the bond until my voice gave out.
He never answered.
The basement room was small, windowless, locked from the outside. They threw me in and shut the door. The bolt slid home with a sound like finality.
I collapsed against the wall and pressed my bound hands to my mouth.
Somewhere above me, in the world I'd just been ripped from, Mckenzie was trying to reach me. I could feel it—faint, desperate pulses through the cross-pack channels we'd used since we were young.
But Silvercrest's borders were closed. Gamma-level security. London's work, probably.
No one was coming.
I closed my eyes and felt my wolf whimper.
And for the first time since I pulled Holden from the snow, I wondered if the Moon Goddess had made a mistake.
