The full moon rose like a blade through the night sky, cutting silver through the treetops as silence settled over the pack's territory. But inside the Alpha's Hall, silence was the one thing that didn't exist.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded, slamming my palms against the long oak table that stretched down the room's center.
Lucian stood at the head of it, his expression unreadable—stone cut with shadows. Around us, the other elders sat, their eyes heavy with tension and age-old judgment. Their auras prickled against mine like barbed wire.
"You were not ready," Lucian said. "You still might not be."
"That's not your decision to make."
"It is," growled one of the elders—Marcus, a grizzled man with scars that could tell their own story. "You were bitten, not born. That makes everything about you unstable."
"She bears the mark," said a voice from the far end of the room. A woman stepped forward—tall, with raven hair and a quiet elegance that screamed danger. "You all saw it at the Hunt. She's more than just a mistake."
Lucian's jaw clenched. "Enough."
I stared at them all, heart pounding. "What exactly am I not ready to know? What is this mark really? What does it mean?"
The woman turned to me, her eyes softening. "Your name is Ravyn Vale. Your mother—Elaena Vale—was born of the old bloodlines. Not just human. Not just wolf. Something in-between. Something forgotten."
"My mother…" I whispered. "She was just a waitress. She worked doubles. She barely had time to sleep."
Lucian stepped down from the dais. "She was hiding, Ravyn. From those who wanted to control her… or destroy her."
I couldn't breathe.
All those quiet nights. The long glances over her shoulder. The way she always locked every window. The fear in her eyes when the moon was full.
"She knew this would come," Lucian said. "She gave you up to the world to try to delay it."
"But the bite—you—accelerated it," I said slowly, eyes narrowing.
His silence was answer enough.
A bitter laugh escaped me. "So I was just a trigger. A switch to flip."
"No." Lucian moved closer. "You were a beginning."
I turned away, fire and betrayal boiling under my skin. "You should've told me."
"If I had," he said, voice low, "would you have believed me? Would you have stayed?"
I didn't answer. I wasn't sure.
Because deep down, a part of me had always felt different. Disconnected from both the world of humans and the monsters in the stories. I just never imagined it would be true.
Then something colder than betrayal wrapped around my thoughts.
"If my mother was running… who was she running from?"
The room went still.
The woman—Seraphine—was the one who answered.
"Your father."
The words dropped like thunder.
"What?" I choked.
Lucian's expression was dark. "He was not a good man. Not anymore."
"He was once heir to the Midnight Circle," Seraphine said. "But power twisted him. He began experimenting… breaking the laws of the Shift. He sought to create a new kind of wolf. One immune to silver. One without weakness."
"Your mother fled when she learned the truth," Lucian added. "She carried you with her—hoping you'd never inherit any of it."
The room spun around me.
My father… was a monster.
And I was his legacy.
"I need air," I muttered, backing away.
Lucian didn't stop me. No one did.
Outside, the woods were quiet again—but not peaceful. They felt like they were listening. Waiting.
I walked blindly, until the trees swallowed me. Until the Hall disappeared behind the trunks. Until the weight of the truth cracked my knees and I collapsed against a fallen log.
Everything inside me was war.
Wolf and girl. Blood and fire. Mother's silence and father's shadow.
And at the center of it all—
Me.
I pulled up my sleeve and stared at the mark on my shoulder. It glowed faintly now. Not like fire, but like memory.
I thought about my mother—how fiercely she loved me. How hard she worked. How carefully she hid her pain.
I thought about Lucian—how his eyes never softened, but his actions always protected.
And I thought about the man whose blood ran in my veins.
A man I might have to face one day.
Not as daughter.
But as enemy.