Even as she left, my mind didn't stop racing. I thought of my sister. Where was she? Was she safe? I should be angry at her, for dragging me into this, for disappearing, for letting me take the fall. But the anger twisted with worry, and the worry with guilt. What if she was captured, too? What if she was out there, somewhere, just as scared, just as lost?
And now... I was locked away from the world. From her. How was I supposed to find her when I couldn't even find my way out of this room?
I was still fighting through those thoughts when the door creaked open again.
The same girl stepped in, this time holding a small pile of clothes in her arms.
"I'm Nita," she said, her voice soft but warm. "I thought I'd bring these for you. They're the only ones I could find that might fit, though I'm obviously plus-size."
She gave an awkward smile as she handed me the clothes. Her body was larger than mine, but her face looked young, too young to be in a place like this.
I reached out slowly. "Thank you, ma'am," I said quietly.
She winced a little, waving it off. "Just Nita."
Then her expression shifted, nervous now. She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice.
"One last thing," she whispered. "Please... don't let the Alphas know I gave you these."
Her eyes darted toward the door as if it might open at any moment.
I was stranded, trapped in a place ruled by silence and suspicion, with nothing but uncertainty wrapping around me like chains. Those men... the Lycans. They behaved as if I'd wronged them. As if I were guilty of some deep betrayal I couldn't recall. Their questions were laced with accusations, subtle and sharp, like they were trying to piece together a story I didn't know I was part of.
They hadn't met me before, but I was certain now: they'd met Lira.
They thought I was her. And worse, they believed I'd done things I couldn't even speak of. Unspeakable things.
And maybe... maybe I didn't know what kind of life my sister had led. But I couldn't believe she'd done what they implied. Couldn't let myself believe it.
When the girl left, I picked up the loose kaftan she brought. It hung off me like a curtain, but I slipped it on anyway, grateful to feel even a shred of modesty and control return. For a second, it helped me breathe. But the hunger, sharp, gnawing, ripped through that calm like claws through skin. I couldn't sleep like this. I needed something, anything-to dull the ache in my stomach.
Desperate, I slipped outside.
The cold hit me like a slap, sharp and stinging. I leaned toward the edge of the roof and licked at an icicle. It numbed my lips but gave me just enough moisture to keep going. I wandered the grounds, half-crouched, half-running, eyes scanning for anything edible.
Then I saw it, a bush, heavy with small red cranberries.
I rushed over, heart pounding, glancing around like a thief. The berries were tart and sharp, but I devoured them, handful after handful, until the emptiness in my stomach dulled. It wasn't much, but it was enough. For now.
I raced back to my room, hoping no one had seen me. By morning, the snow would cover my tracks. No one would know. I curled up in the corner, knees to my chest, listening to the silence.
And still-I couldn't cry.
The tears hovered at the edges, waiting. But something in me refused to break. Maybe pride. Maybe fear. Maybe something older and harder.
My thoughts drifted South. To her. To the land we once called home.
What were they planning? These Lycans... these Alphas?
I'd heard stories. They were primal. Violent. Their power wasn't just physical-it was savage. Rulers through dominance. Loyalty forged in blood and pain. Disobedience met with claws, teeth, or worse. My heart clenched. If they found Lira... and she had no one to protect her...
I shuddered, helpless to stop the visions crawling through my mind.
When dawn finally came, I ventured out again, tentative, alert. The snow crunched underfoot, and I could feel the weight of unseen eyes tracking me. No one spoke. No one dared. Their silence said everything. I didn't belong. I wasn't welcome. Orders had been given-watch her, but don't speak.
I approached a shop, hoping to beg for food, anything.
The owner scowled and slammed the door in my face.
I tried another. And another. But the response was the same each time-cold eyes, tighter mouths, doors shutting like the slam of judgment.
It was as if I carried a curse they could see. One they wanted no part of.
I had no allies. No wolf. No power.
If I had my wolf, I could've hunted. I could've run.
But like this, I was nothing but a girl in borrowed clothes with an empty stomach and too many enemies.
I turned back toward the room. Toward the silence. Toward the waiting.
Nightfall would come again.
And with it, the berries.
If I was lucky.
When I opened the door to my room, something white caught my eye-neatly folded papers placed at the edge of the bed.
I paused. My pulse quickened.
Slowly, I stepped closer, fingers trembling as I picked them up. The top page was slightly creased, the kind of crease that came from being handled too many times. I skimmed the first line-and froze.
Legal jargon. Cold. Precise.
My name.
Not Lira's.
Mine.
Printed in bold letters on a marriage certificate, bound to three of the Alphas. I blinked, stared harder, hoping I had misread it. But no, the spelling was unmistakable.