Lilith POV
The air in the Iron Claw territory hit my senses differently.
It smelled of damp earth and iron, a grounding scent that helped anchor the constant, frantic beating of my heart. Logan had stationed me in a guest cabin near the edge of the forest. It was small, but for the first time in my life, I didn't have to share a room with six other snoring Omegas.
My body was healing. The physical wounds from the river and the Rogue attack were turning into angry red scars, fusing together thanks to the potent salves the Iron Claw Healers used.
But the silence in my head was louder than any noise.
I had blocked the bond. I had walled off the connection to Kane with every brick of willpower I possessed. Yet, the phantom pain remained-a dull, throbbing ache in the center of my chest, like a bruise that refused to fade.
"You're staring at the wall again," Logan said.
I blinked, snapping back to reality. Logan was leaning against the doorframe, holding a basket of fresh bread. He came by every day. He didn't push. He didn't demand. He just... existed near me. Like a mountain shielding a sapling from the wind.
"I'm thinking," I said, my voice still raspy.
"About the past?" Logan asked, setting the basket on the small table. "Or the future?"
"I don't have a future yet," I muttered, pulling my knees to my chest. "I'm just trying to survive the present."
Logan sat opposite me. His amber eyes were intense, burning with a quiet conviction.
"You have a future, Lilith. Destiny doesn't break you just for the sport of it. Your value goes far beyond scrubbing floors for a blind fool."
I looked away. It was hard to believe him. For years, my value had been measured in how clean the Alpha's boots were.
Later that afternoon, I ventured out. My wolf needed to stretch. I couldn't shift yet-the trauma kept her locked deep inside-but walking helped.
I wandered near the trading post on the border of the territory. A traveling Rogue merchant was hawking spices and fabrics to some of Logan's Pack members.
I pulled my hood up, intending to walk past, but a voice stopped me.
"But did you hear about the Blood Moon Pack?" the merchant was saying, his voice loud and grating. "They say Alpha Kane is building a palace for his new Luna. A 'Luna Hall' made of white marble and glass."
I froze. My breath hitched in my throat.
"White marble?" one of the Iron Claw warriors snorted, crossing his massive arms. "In this climate? That's just asking for cracks. Sounds excessive."
"Oh, it is," the merchant laughed, slapping his knee. "He treats that Beta female like she's a goddess. Won't let her lift a finger. He carries her over puddles. He feeds her the choicest cuts of meat from his own hand. They say it's the greatest love story the North has ever seen."
The words hit me like shrapnel.
I remembered the winters I spent shivering in the servants' quarters because there wasn't enough firewood. I remembered eating the gristle left over from the Alpha's table.
He could be kind. He could be generous. He just chose never to be those things for me.
He really did it, I thought, a bitter laugh bubbling in my throat. He built her a castle on the foundation of my broken bones.
I turned to leave, feeling bile rise in my throat, when a sudden ping echoed in my mind. It wasn't the Pack link-I was severed from that. It was a direct, private Mind-Link request.
I hesitated. The mental signature felt familiar, like a ghost brushing against my consciousness.
I opened the channel.
Lilith? Is that you?
It was Mara, a Beta female from Blood Moon. We had been friends, in secret. She was the only one who ever snuck me extra bread.
Mara, I replied, my mental voice guarded. What do you want?
Oh, thank the Goddess, Mara wept, her mental voice trembling. I heard you were dead. Or Rogue. Lilith, you have to meet us. Just for an hour.
Why?
There are... rumors, Mara hesitated. About Serra. About the Pack. Things aren't as perfect as Kane pretends. Please. Meet us at 'The No Man's Land' bar tonight. Just to talk. For closure.
I wanted to say no. I wanted to run until the name Kane was just a sound in the wind.
But the merchant's words stung. The greatest love story.
I needed to see it. I needed to look at them one last time and feel nothing. I needed to cauterize the wound so it would stop bleeding.
I'll be there, I said.
I went to find Logan.
"I need a favor," I told him.
He looked up from sharpening his blade. "I need a ride to the neutral zone."
Logan looked at me, sensing the shift in my aura. His expression darkened. "You're going to see him."
"I'm going to bury him," I corrected, my voice cold as the river that almost killed me.
Logan grabbed his keys, jaw set tight. "Then I'm driving. You're not facing that bastard alone."
