The Rogue They Caged Came Back for Blood

Kendra's POV

The day I came home carrying the Royal Pack's highest honor, the one that names its strongest warrior, I pictured Irene's proud smile waiting for me, and Chase's arms wrapping around me.

Then I cross into Crescent Moon Pack territory and the smell hits me. Blood, thick enough to make me gag.

I claw through the scorched wreckage like something possessed, not even noticing my nails tearing, blood running down my fingers.

And then I find her. Irene, the one person who'd ever shown me real kindness, lying in the ash. Not breathing. Gone.

Three scents linger in the air, all of them familiar: Garrett. Ivy. And Chase.

I follow the scent to the lakeside lodge, and that's when I hear Chase, his voice dripping with that same gentle warmth I used to love. "Who cares about Irene, as long as you're happy."

Something in my head just snaps.

"Traitors don't get to live."

Tonight, they're all going to join Irene in death.

Three years.

Three years I spent clawing my way through the Royal Pack's death pits, getting my bones broken over and over, choking down blood in freezing mud. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of Irene's smile.

I was a rogue. Nothing. Lower than dirt. And Irene, the Luna of Crescent Moon Pack, found me half-frozen in a snowstorm one winter night and carried me home to the fire.

She woke the dying wolf inside me with her own blood. She raised me like her own sister, never mind what the rest of the pack said about it. I volunteered for the Royal Trials, the hardest, ugliest training the Royal Pack had to offer, to shore up her position in the pack and prove a rogue was worthy of standing beside her.

Now I'm finally home, medal in hand. I can already picture the look on Irene's face when she sees it, that quiet pride in her eyes.

And Chase. My Beta. My mate. I figured he'd pull me into his arms the second he saw me, tell me how much he missed me.

Instead, I walk into the territory and get hit with the smell of blood.

My heart drops. I break into a run toward the pack house.

The place that used to be full of noise and laughter is a burned-out shell. Charred wood, dark stains soaked into what's left of it.

"Irene!" I dig through the wreckage, splinters tearing into my nails, blood dripping onto the ash.

I don't feel any of it.

I find her at the bottom of the pile.

It's an image I'll never get out of my head.

Irene, always in white, always smiling, tossed aside like a broken doll. A claw went straight through her chest. Where her heart used to be, there's just a hole. Her hair is matted with blood and dirt, and her eyes, those warm amber eyes, are wide open, frozen on whatever she saw right before she died.

"No... no." I drop to my knees next to her.

I reach out to touch her face and pull back at the last second, like touching her will make this real.

She's already cold. Stiff.

"Who did this? Who did this to you?"

Grief rips through me like something physical. My vision goes red at the edges.

I gather what's left of her and carry her to an oak tree at the edge of the territory, laying her down as gently as I can.

I close my eyes and breathe in. Under Irene's blood, there are three other scents I know. Garrett, her mate, the Alpha of this pack. Ivy, the girl who's always playing sick and helpless, living off the pack's charity. And Chase.

My eyes snap open. Killing intent rolls off me in waves.

I follow the scent to the lodge out back.

Lights are on inside. I can hear voices.

"Garrett, that was reckless. You killed Irene. For me?" Ivy's voice, all fake panic and sugar.

"That woman thought being Luna meant she could talk down to you in front of everyone. Wanted you gone from the pack. I just meant to scare her. Didn't think she'd go down that easy." Garrett sounds bored, like he's talking about swatting a fly, not killing his own mate.

"But what if Kendra's back by now? She went to train with the Royal Pack..." Ivy again, fishing.

Then I hear the voice I know best of all. Chase.

"Relax, Ivy." His voice is soft, sickeningly soft, and it cuts into me worse than anything. "Kendra's an idiot. All she cares about is Irene. Even if she's back, Garrett's got this handled. What's a rogue going to do? Who cares about Irene, as long as you're happy."

That's it. Whatever was holding me together is gone.

Years married to that man. Years of him swearing we'd stand together, through anything.

I actually believed I was the only one he wanted. Turns out, in his eyes, I really was just an idiot, and Irene, the woman I would've died for, was nothing to him but a bargaining chip to win over someone else.