Verity’s POV

The garden buzzed with tension, loud with whispers, heavy with disbelief. Dozens of eyes were on me—judging, accusing, confused. I wanted to disappear back into the shadows. Back into the tower. Back into nothing.

But I couldn’t move.

Not when the prince—the man who had just marked me, claimed me—was now standing between me and my sister, staring at us like we were two sides of the same coin, and he couldn’t tell which was counterfeit.

“Felicity,” he said slowly, his voice trembling, “I—I didn’t know. I thought it was you.”

Her lip curled. Rage burned in her eyes like fire waiting to be unleashed. She turned to him, elegant and furious, pointing at me like I was filth beneath her shoe. “She’s a witch,” she hissed. “A shapeshifter or some rogue mongrel dabbling in dark magic. I don’t have a twin.”

I flinched.

“I don’t—” The prince looked between us again. “You look the same. But she… she felt like my mate.”

“That’s because she’s tricked you,” Felicity spat, her voice cracking. “She doesn’t belong here. She’s dangerous!”

“No,” a soft voice whispered.

All heads turned.

My mother. She stepped forward, her eyes fixed on me—not with disgust or fear, but something achingly human. Regret. Grief. Recognition.

“She’s not a witch,” she said, louder now. “She’s—”

“Enough,” my father barked, cutting her off. His voice was steel, his presence cold like ice. He turned to the prince. “You’ve made a mistake, Prince Theron. This girl is not of noble blood. She is not your mate.”

Theron looked at me again, hesitation clouding his face.

“I… I marked her,” he said, almost to himself. “The bond—”

“It’s dark magic,” Felicity said sharply. “It has to be.”

“Reject her,” my father ordered, eyes cold and final. “Now.”

Something inside me began to tremble.

Theron’s jaw clenched. His gaze hardened as it flicked from me to Felicity, then to the rest of the court gathering behind them like vultures. Whispers filled the garden, spinning lies into truths, truth into poison.

“Reject her,” Felicity repeated, stepping closer to him. “Choose me. Like you were meant to.”

He looked at me one last time.

And then he said the words.

“I, Prince Theron Vale of Duskwood, reject you.”

Time stopped.

Pain didn’t.

It hit me like lightning splitting through my bones. I couldn’t breathe. My chest collapsed in on itself, my lungs seized, and fire spread inside me—wild, brutal, unstoppable.

The bond tore itself from my soul like claws scraping against raw flesh. My knees buckled. My scream didn't come out, not because I didn’t try, but because I couldn’t. My throat burned, my eyes blurred, and the world tilted.

I was dying.

No, worse.

I was being torn apart from the inside.

Tears poured from my eyes as I collapsed, hands clawing at the earth beneath me. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t beg. Couldn’t even understand why this pain existed. Was this what Grace had meant when she said a rejection would hurt?

This wasn’t hurt.

This was obliteration.

I saw my mother start toward me, her hand outstretched. “Stop!” she cried. “She’s not—”

“She’s nothing!” my father roared. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her back, silencing her with one look. “She was never supposed to exist!”

The guards advanced.

Rough hands grabbed my arms, lifting me like I was nothing more than refuse. The world spun. I could barely see. My body hung limp, my limbs heavy as stone. My mouth moved, trying to form something, anything but no sound came.

The moon above was full and bright.

The same moon I had worshipped in silence all my life.

And now it watched me with indifference.

My siblings looked on in confusion. My mother’s face was filled with sorrow. My sister? Smiling faintly behind her mask of grief.

I was dragged out of the garden.

Past golden halls. Past pillars and glass. Past everything I had only ever dreamed of.

I heard snippets of voices.

“…dispose of her…”

“…take her to the Dark Lands…”

“…nothing but a mistake…”

Dark Lands?

I was too far gone to care.

The cold bit into me as the castle faded behind us and the woods swallowed me whole. The wolves didn’t even speak. Just moved like machines—silent, efficient, deadly. They carried me deeper and deeper into the dark.

And then… they dropped me.

I hit the forest floor with a thud that knocked the air from my lungs. My body screamed in protest. My vision blinked in and out. I heard their footsteps as they walked away. And then silence.

Not even the trees wept for me.

The world was dark. Colder than the tower. Colder than stone. The rejection still echoed through my soul like a song I couldn’t stop hearing. I curled in on myself, hugging my knees. I didn’t have the strength to cry. I just breathed.

Barely.

Hours passed. Or maybe days.

Then I heard it.

Low growls. Snapping twigs. Paws against the earth.

I turned my head slightly, vision blurry, and saw them.

Beasts.

Massive, dark-furred, with eyes like embers.

They stalked toward me slowly, heads low, teeth bared.

My breath hitched. My limbs refused to move. My body was too broken.

If this was death…

Let it be fast.

The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me—

Were glowing red eyes.

And the soft sound of a snarl.