KAYE'S POV

Lucas did not say anything as we walked through the packhouse. He just kept one hand on my elbow, guiding me up stairs and down hallways. The silver chains rattled with every step. They were getting heavier. Or maybe I was just getting weaker.

We passed wolves in the hallways. They all stopped and stared. Some whispered to each other. Others glared with pure hatred. One man spat on the floor as I walked by.

"Moonstone filth," he muttered.

Lucas shot him a warning look, but did not say anything. We kept walking.

My wolf was quiet now. She had gone still the moment the bond snapped into place. She was confused. Our mate hated us. Our mate wanted us to suffer. That was not how it was supposed to work.

But nothing about my life had worked the way it was supposed to.

We climbed to the third floor. The hallway was narrower here, with plain wooden doors lining both sides. Lucas stopped in front of one and opened it.

"This is yours," he said.

I stepped inside. The room was tiny. A bed with a thin mattress. A small dresser with three drawers. A window so narrow I could barely see out of it. The walls were bare except for some water stains in the corner.

It looked like a prison cell.

"Wait here," Lucas said. He disappeared down the hall and came back a minute later with a key. He knelt down and unlocked the silver chains.

The relief was instant. I gasped as the burning pain faded. My wrists were red and blistered where the silver had touched. The skin looked angry and raw. It would heal by morning, but right now it hurt so badly my eyes watered.

Lucas looked at the burns and his jaw tightened. "I will bring you something for that."

"Why are you being nice to me?" The words came out harsher than I meant them to. But I was too tired to care. "Your Alpha hates me. Your pack wants me dead. So why are you helping?"

Lucas met my eyes. "Because you look terrified. And I do not make scared people suffer more than they already are."

"That makes you different from everyone else here."

"Maybe." He pulled a small jar out of his pocket and handed it to me. "This will help your wrists heal faster. Put it on before you sleep."

I took the jar. It was cool in my palm. "Thank you."

Lucas nodded. Then he looked at me for a long moment, like he was trying to figure something out. "You said your father did not give the order to attack. Do you really believe that?"

"Yes," I said immediately. "My father was not perfect. But he was not a murderer."

"Then who was?"

"I do not know." I sat down on the bed. It creaked under my weight. "I was seventeen. I did not understand pack politics or alliances or any of that. I just knew that one night everything was normal, and the next night everything was on fire."

"Did you see anyone that night? Anyone who should not have been there?"

I tried to remember. But most of that night was a blur of smoke and screaming and terror. "There were rogues. Lots of them. More than I had ever seen in one place. They were organized. Like they had a plan."

"Rogues do not organize themselves," Lucas said quietly. "Someone had to be leading them."

"I know." I looked down at my burned wrists. "My father knew it too. Right before he told me to run, he said someone betrayed us. He said I needed to survive and find out who."

"And did you? Find out who?"

I shook my head. "I was too busy trying to stay alive. And then everyone started saying my father was the one who attacked the Blackwater Pack. That he went rogue and killed innocent people. I knew it was not true, but no one would listen to me. So I ran. And I have been running ever since."

Lucas was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I believe you."

I looked up at him in surprise. "Why?"

"Because if you were here to hurt us, you would not look so broken." He stood up. "Get some rest. Someone will come get you in the morning to start your work."

"Lucas," I said before he could leave. "The bond. Does everyone know?"

"They can sense it," he said carefully. "Strong bonds are hard to hide. Most of the pack probably felt it the moment it snapped into place."

My stomach dropped. "So they all know the Alpha's fated mate is Moonstone."

"Yes."

"They are going to hate me even more now."

Lucas did not deny it. He just looked at me with something that might have been pity. "Try not to make it worse. Keep your head down. Do your work. Stay out of trouble."

"And if that is not enough?"

"Then pray the Alpha's wolf is stronger than his anger." Lucas turned to leave. "Because right now, you are only alive because the bond is keeping you that way."

He left, closing the door behind him.

I sat alone in the tiny room, staring at the jar of medicine in my hands. My wrists throbbed. My cheek ached from where that woman had slapped me. My whole body felt heavy with exhaustion.

But I could not sleep.

Because I could still feel him. Ethan. The bond connected us now, whether we wanted it or not. I could feel his anger. His pain. His absolute certainty that I was his enemy.

And underneath it all, I felt his wolf. Howling. Desperate. Begging him to come to me.

But he would not come. I knew that. He hated me too much.

I opened the jar and rubbed the medicine on my wrists. It smelled like herbs and something sweet I could not identify. The burning sensation faded almost immediately. Lucas was right. It was working.

I lay down on the thin mattress and stared at the ceiling. Somewhere below me, the packhouse was full of life. I could hear voices. Footsteps. Laughter. Normal pack sounds.

But I was not part of that. I was alone on the third floor in a room that felt like a cage.

Tears started falling before I could stop them. I had been running for six years. Six years of hiding and lying and being terrified every single day. And now I had finally been caught. By the worst possible pack. By the worst possible person.

And fate had decided that person should be my mate.

I did not want this. I did not want to be bound to someone who looked at me and only saw the daughter of a murderer. Someone who would keep me prisoner and make me suffer just because of a name I did not choose.

But the bond did not care what I wanted. It was already there, wrapped around my heart, pulling me toward him.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. But every time I started to drift off, I felt him. Still awake. Still angry. Still hating me.

It was going to be a long night.

****************************************

Hours passed. Maybe two, maybe four. I could not tell. The exhaustion was so heavy I kept falling into a half-sleep where I was aware of everything but could not quite wake up.

And then I felt it. A shift in the bond. Ethan was moving. Coming closer.

My eyes snapped open. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. Was he coming here? Why?

Footsteps in the hallway. They stopped outside my door.

I held my breath.

The door did not open. But I knew he was there. Standing on the other side. I could feel him through the bond. His conflict. His anger. His wolf clawing at him to come in.

Minutes passed. Neither of us moved.

Then the footsteps retreated. He was leaving.

But ten minutes later, I found a tray of food sitting outside my door. Bread, cheese, water, and an apple. Real food. Not much, but more than I expected.

I brought the tray inside and sat on the bed, staring at it.

Ethan had brought this. I knew he had. The bond told me so.

He hated me. He wanted me to suffer. But his wolf would not let him starve me.

I picked up the bread and took a bite. It was fresh. Still warm.

And as I ate, tears ran down my face.

Because I hated him for what he was doing to me. But the bond made it impossible to hate him completely.

And that was the worst part of all.