My Mother's Blood, His Pack's Ruin

Miss Thornwood, we've found a body in the wildlands. The features match your mother's. We need you to come and identify her.

My smile, reflected in the mirror of the ceremonial-robe den, shattered with a single call across the sending-stone.

The Healer's morgue reeked of wolfsbane and something older, something that clung to the cold stone walls like a confession no one wanted to hear. When they pulled back the shroud, her body was barely recognizable. Her eyes, gone. Her organs, ripped out like she'd been nothing more than game dragged down by a starving pack. The scent that should have been hers, silver cherry-blossom and warm hearthsmoke and clean linen left in the sun, had been hollowed out of her, leaving only blood and rot.

I collapsed, a scream tearing from my throat as the world turned black. Deep inside me, my wolf threw back her head and howled a sound I had never made before.

When I came to, my intended mate, Lucan Bloodfang, was sitting by my side in the dim Healing Hall. He gently wiped away my tears and pressed his lips to my forehead with the tenderness of a man who'd rehearsed the gesture.

"We caught the bastard who did it," he whispered against my skin. "I made sure he paid for what he did to your mother."

He swore that, for the rest of his life, he'd love and protect me the way she used to.

But that night, jolted awake by another nightmare, my mother's hollowed face swimming behind my eyelids, I caught something outside the bedchamber. A scent that didn't belong. Through the crack in the door, golden lamplight spilled across Lucan's back as he held my half-sister, Mirella Thornwood, in his arms. Her scent reached me first, overripe jasmine with sweet rot beneath it, and my wolf rose under my skin with a low, suspicious growl I had to swallow down.

She was sobbing into his chest, her whole body trembling like a wounded animal.

"If she ever finds out the truth she'll kill me."

Lucan cupped her face, gentle as ever, gentler than he'd ever been with me.

"Hey, it's not your fault. You didn't know those wolves were slavers. You're a victim too."

The chill in my bones cut deeper than any winter wind off the coast. I could hardly breathe.

So this was it. My mother died because of Mirella. And the man who swore to protect me was shielding her.

Lucan finally sent Mirella away, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind her, and turned around, only to see me, collapsed on the cold stone floor like a broken doll.

His expression flickered, guilt, frustration, then hardened into something I didn't recognize.

"So you heard everything?"

His tone turned cold, like I was the problem. Like I was the inconvenience.

"Don't blame Mirella. Your mother got greedy, okay? She kept pestering Mirella to help her trade for territory rights. She brought this on herself."

He tossed a blank Blood Oath parchment on the table like it meant nothing. The page landed with a whisper that echoed like a slap.

"Write whatever claim you want. But forget what you've heard. Let's pretend nothing happened for now. The Mating Ceremony is in five nights. We'll go through with it, peacefully."

I stared at the man who once swore he'd love me for the rest of his life. Now, he felt like a stranger wearing a familiar face.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand.

If my mating was doomed to become my mother's funeral, then five nights from now I'd return the favor, with interest.