“Do you deny it, Seliene of Ashwyn?”

The voice echoed like a blade slicing through ice. Smoke clung to the high arches of the stone hall, and every torch crackled with silver fire, burning hotter than it should’ve.

I knelt in the center, wrists bound in iron, the shackles biting into my skin.

“I never betrayed the council,” I said, my voice raw. “And my father never conspired with rogues. He was loyal to the pack alliance until the end.”

No one answered.

The silence stretched like a noose tightening.

Then the great doors groaned open, and I caught the stench of blood. It hit before the body did.

Two enforcers hauled something between them. They threw it at my knees like an afterthought, a cruel offering.

The cloth shifted.

My breath stopped.

It was my father.

His face pale, sunken. His throat had been slit. The signet ring that marked our lineage had been ripped from his hand. My heart dropped to the cold stone beneath me.

“No—” I lunged forward, only for the chains to jerk me back. “He was faithful! He gave everything to this pack!”

Footsteps. Steady. Heavy boots striking stone.

And then he appeared.

Kael.

Draped in the black of an Alpha. His sword was still sheathed at his hip, but his eyes, his eyes were colder than steel.

He didn’t look at me. Not at first.

He just stood there, tall, unreadable. The man I once trusted more than life itself.

“The evidence says otherwise,” he said, voice low but unwavering. “Marked scrolls were found hidden beneath your estate, coded messages sent to rogue factions. They mapped out our patrol rotations. The Elder Vault’s location was among them.”

My chest tightened. I blinked at him.

“The vault?” I repeated. “No one even knows where that is, how could—”

His gaze snapped to mine.

“I trusted you,” he said quietly. “I fought for you, Seliene. I defended your name. But the Elders are dead. Their blood is on the floor of the temple. Your father planned it. And you gave them the map.”

“I didn’t,” I whispered. “Kael, I didn’t—”

“Your blood sealed the documents,” he said, cutting me off. “We tested it.”

The words hit harder than any blade.

Treason. Massacre. Betrayal.

They were going to kill me. Not just me, my family name, my father’s legacy, all of it..erased in one cold decree.

“You knew me,” I said, voice trembling. “You knew him. My father would have died before betraying the pack..and he did.”

Kael’s jaw clenched.

“I don’t know you anymore.”

And just like that, he gave the order.

“Take her away.”

-

..’No! Don’t..Kael, please!” I thrashed against the chains, the iron biting into my wrists. “Don’t do this! Don’t..don’t..!”

Everything was slipping.

His face blurred. The torches flared. The scent of my father’s blood choked me as hands grabbed my arms, dragging me across the stone.

“Don’t—!”

I screamed until my throat burned—

—and then I bolted upright.

My chest heaved, lungs dragging in stale air. Sweat clung to my skin. The dim glow of moonlight bled through cracked blinds. Wood walls. A low ceiling. The scent of dust and ash, not blood.

I was in my room.

Safe.

Alive.

Alone.

My hands were trembling, fists curled in the thin blanket twisted around me. My pulse thundered in my ears like war drums.

It was a dream.

Just a dream.

But it hadn’t felt like one.

Not when I saw my father’s face. Not when Kael looked at me like I was a stranger. Not when he sentenced me to die.

My breath caught.

I could still feel the chains.

Still hear the sound of his voicel.

And the worst part?

A part of me had wanted to believe him. That maybe I had done something. That maybe I had brought this on myself.

But I hadn’t.

I knew I hadn’t.

And yet... someone had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure I was blamed.

Someone powerful enough to forge blood-sealed documents. Someone who wanted my entire bloodline erased.

I swung my legs over the bed, and headed outside searching for a familiar gaze. That was when I saw him. Ronan.

He emerged from his tent, dressed in black. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders, cinched at the waist by a belt etched with silver symbols of the fallen. A sword hung at his side. His hair was tied back, save for a few loose strands framing his sharp face.

He looked every inch the Alpha he was born to be.

But as he approached his horse, something made him pause.

His gaze found mine across the courtyard.

I stood still, hands wrapped around my arm, the wind tugging at the dark veil I wore. It wasn’t elaborate, nothing that would draw too much attention but there was something about the way it clung to my frame, the way my eyes met his without flinching, that made him stare.

Just for a second.

Then, as always, he turned cold again.

“Are you coming or not?” he asked, already mounting his horse.

I moved forward, but the closer I got, the more my feet faltered.

The horse snorted, shifting restlessly. My breath caught.

I had never liked horses. Even in my past life, I hated how high they stood, how easily they could throw you, how much control they demanded. Back then, Ronan always helped me. Back then, he used to tease me for it, then carry me up anyway.

That was then.

Now—

His hand extended without a word.

I stared at it for a heartbeat. Then I placed mine in his.

He pulled me up with ease, seating me in front of him. His body was warm behind mine, his breath brushing my hair. For a moment, we both stilled.

Then, slowly, he reached around me hesitating before settling his arm across my waist to hold the reins.

We rode in silence.

__

As the crowd came into view, I froze.

This place, these stones, this path soaked in blood and betrayal...

I couldn’t move.

Ronan dismounted and turned back to help me down. I didn’t budge.

Then,

I opened my eyes and met his.

Something passed between us.

He looked away quickly, jaw tightening like he couldn’t stand whatever he’d seen in me.

But he offered his hand again, and this time, I took it.