—- Chapter 3 Eris’s rash bloomed across her skin like a warning from the moon goddess. “Is this… an allergic reaction?” Father barked, nostrils flaring as he hovered over her convulsing form. “Why would this happen now?” Mother’s gaze snapped to me like a dagger drawn under moonlight. In the next heartbeat, her palm collided with my cheek, sending me sprawling across the tiled floor. “Vera! What did you put in the food? Have you forgotten your sister’s triggers?!” My head rang.
The room swam. I could feel Vespa stir within me, a low growl rising in the depths of my chest. But I shoved her back, swallowing the heat clawing at my throat. Dax stepped forward, eyes flashing in disbelief. “You were so quiet… so obedient. And now this? You meant to harm Eris.” “How did I end up witha sister like you?” he added, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Enough!” Father slammed his fist on the table, the —- sound reverberating like thunder.
“Get her to the healer now!” The room cleared in a blur-my parents and Dax carrying Eris out, frantic and breathless, like she was the moon’s own fragile vessel. Iwas left alone, face throbbing, heart hollow. It wasn’t me. I whispered the words aloud, but they echoed off the silence like lies. They wouldn’t believe me. They never did. Not after everything. I felt something wet and hot on my palm. The maid had returned, her eyes wide as she caught sight of my hands. “Lady Vera… your hands…
they’re-swollen.” I looked down. Red lines bloomed across my skin like fire veins. “Tm fine,” I lied, brushing past her. In my room, I reached for an old leather-bound notebook. As I opened its worn cover, the scent of old ink and pine dust rose-memories not even the wolf in me wanted to recall. —- That winter, prey was scarce. Rogues pushed at our borders, and the Council demanded more from Father than he could give.
When resources thinned, when space and safety grew tight, someone had to be sent away. I volunteered. The obedient daughter. The easy one to forget. The outpost clung to the cliffs beyond the pack’s borders -a place carved for old warriors and outcasts. No pack song reached that far. Only wind and silence. There I learned everything. They visited once a year for Solstice rites. Each time, they stayed less. Brought more gifts for Eris. Spoke less of me.
When I finally returned, the Stormveil Packhad grown stronger-courts and galleries echoing with pride. My new quarters? A forgotten supply room near the rear exit. No windows. No warmth. Just a reminder: I wasn’t part of the vision they built. Ipacked my things into a worn duffel. The wedding leave I had once requested felt laughable now. Iwas reaching for the phone, ready to send a message to my superior at outpost-requesting return to the outpost.
