Chapter 2

Tucked safely against my skin, the shadow witch's forbidden vial felt heavier than a death sentence. By tomorrow, a single drop would be enough to shatter my mating bond for good.

But for now, I had to survive one last trip to the Obsidian Pack's private infirmary.

The once-spacious clinic was suffocating, choked with hypocritical congratulations and the cloying, nauseating stench of soothing scents. The moment I stepped through the door, the air instantly froze.

The pack elders who had come to offer their blessings, along with the parents and relatives who had so ruthlessly abandoned me, were gathered tightly around the bed.

Elara lounged against the plush pillows, cradling her newborn pup with a sickeningly sweet smile. She eagerly swallowed spoonful after spoonful of the rare restorative broth that Silas was feeding her himself.

Staring at that familiar porcelain bowl, my stomach violently churned. That was the exact recipe he used to trick me into "recovering," right after draining my blood under the guise of "cleansing rituals."

Catching my scent, a flicker of panic disrupted Silas's golden eyes.

He set the bowl down immediately, crossing the room to pull me into a corner near the door.

Lowering his voice, he whispered, "Aria, don't misunderstand. Elara's mate is stuck at the border skirmishes and couldn't make it back. She just gave birth and desperately needs a high-ranking Alpha's scent to settle her."

He paused, letting out a heavy sigh. "I know you still resent our parents for dumping you at the rogue camp back then, but at the end of the day, Elara and the pup are innocent."

Innocent? That thing was a monster nurtured solely on my flesh, my blood, and my stolen wolf.

I glared at him coldly, just about to demand the severance of our bond, when Elara suddenly let out a bloodcurdling shriek from her hospital bed.

Shielding the pup, she practically tumbled off the mattress and dropped to her knees before me, sobbing hysterically.

"Aria, please! I know losing your wolf makes you wish you were dead, and I know you hate me for taking your place as Luna... You can take your anger out on me however you want, but please, I beg you, stop targeting my baby with those dark hexes! He's innocent!"

Amidst the shocked gasps of the pack, Elara trembling tore a scrying pendant from her neck.

It flared to life, projecting horrifying mental echoes into the air. Blood-red runes pulsing with dark magic slithered like venomous snakes, tangling with the wails of a dying fetus in every nightmare of Elara's pregnancy.

The most damning part? Those vicious hexes undeniably radiated the aura of my own fractured soul, carrying the faint, unmistakable scent of my blood.

I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white.

Ever since having my wolf ripped from me while I was fully conscious, reducing me to a shell, I couldn't even maintain a basic pack mind-link. Where the hell would I get the magic to cast a blood hex?!

This was clearly Elara's body rejecting my stolen wolf—the inevitable, brutal supernatural backlash of Silas repeatedly draining my blood to force her pregnancy to term!

Shocked, my gaze snapped to Silas.

A fleeting trace of guilt flashed through his eyes, only to be instantly swallowed by a cold, protective fury for Elara.

They had flawlessly disguised their visceral theft as my curse.

"You spiteful, venomous wretch!" my father roared.

Unleashing the crushing weight of his Alpha command, he backhanded me across the room.

My back slammed into the cold stone wall, the sickening, hollow crack of my wolf-less spine echoing in the dead silence.

In the past, pressure like that wouldn't have even ruffled my fur. Now, it felt as though my internal organs were being torn to shreds.

"Just because you've become a barren cripple, you try to poison your own sister's pup?!" my mother spat, her eyes filled with undisguised disgust.

The room erupted in vicious snarls and murmurs:

"I always knew a woman gutted of her wolf would turn psychotic!"

"She deserved to be skinned alive by those rogues! Alpha Silas fought the elders to keep her around, and this is how the wicked bitch repays him!"

Through the blinding pain, I instinctively looked at Silas. For three years, no matter the scorn I faced, he would always flare his aura and step in front to shield me.

But this time, he didn't release even a trace of his soothing pine scent.

His face carved from ice, he marched forward and seized my wrist, his grip tight enough to snap bone. "Aria, this is sick! Won't you stop until everyone is as broken as you? Apologize to Elara. Now."

Searing agony shot up my arm, eclipsed only by the toxic, burning sensation of the mating mark on my neck.

What was I even hoping for? How could I forget that between Elara and me, he had made his choice long ago—even if that choice meant tying me to the altar himself to carve my wolf from my chest.

Swallowing back the coppery taste of blood, I forced my head up, refusing to shed a single tear.

"Why the hell should I apologize for something I didn't do?!"

"You say she's innocent?" I stared dead into Silas's hypocritically righteous eyes, letting out a bleak, chilling hollow laugh. "Silas, look me in the eye and tell me—is she really innocent?"

"Are ANY of YOU really innocent?!"