She had never felt so powerless.
The chains bit into her wrists as she was dragged through the Bloodveil gates. The familiar landscape of her pack—once a symbol of comfort and safety—now felt like a prison, a place that would never offer her the peace it once did. Sierra’s heart pounded, her breath coming in sharp gasps as the weight of her reality crashed over her. She had been forced back. Dragged from the woods, her wolf still burning within her, still screaming for freedom, but unable to break through the chains that held her in place.
Her parents had never been this cold. Had never looked at her with such disgust. They had always been strict, always demanded control. But now, there was something else in their eyes—something that made her skin crawl. Her mother walked in front, her head held high, as if the world was still under her command. Her father walked beside her, silent but heavy with disapproval. The weight of their stares pressed down on her as they guided her toward the heart of the pack.
“You’ve disgraced us, Sierra,” her mother said, her voice as sharp as the blade that seemed to hang over them all. Her words were like ice, slicing through the air. “You’ve betrayed everything you were raised to be.”
Sierra didn’t answer. She couldn’t. What was there to say? Her mother’s words were true. She had betrayed her pack. She had crossed every boundary, every rule they had set. But she wasn’t sorry. Not for what had happened between her and Rowan. Not for breaking free from the chains they had tried to tie her down with. The wolf inside her still roared, still clawed at the chains that bound her, but the silence in her chest told her it was no use.
Her father’s eyes narrowed as he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ve failed us, Sierra. You’ve gone against your family, your pack. You’re no better than the enemy you’ve fallen for.” The words stung, but they didn’t land the way he thought they would. They didn’t have the power he wanted them to have.
Sierra didn’t speak. She didn’t argue. She didn’t care enough to argue. She had nothing left to say to them. The betrayal wasn’t hers to own anymore. It belonged to them. It belonged to the pack that had spent years controlling her every move. Years, telling her who to love, who to trust. And now, they expected her to follow in line like she always had.
As they neared the heart of Bloodveil, Sierra’s legs started to weaken. The chains, which had once been a symbol of her place in the pack, now felt like they were crushing her. The weight of her parents’ disappointment, of their anger, pressed down on her chest like a boulder. She wanted to collapse. She wanted to scream. But she did nothing. She said nothing.
Then, she saw her.
Isolde stood at the center of the clearing, her arms crossed, her expression one of cold judgment. She had heard everything—Sierra could see the way her sister’s eyes flicked over her, the way her lips curled into a slight sneer. Unhinged, she had called her. The words rang in her ears like a death sentence. Unhinged.
Sierra tried to look away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t escape the gaze of her sister, the one person who had once been her closest ally. Isolde’s voice was sharp, filled with disdain. “You’ve really lost it, haven’t you? Can’t even stay loyal to your own pack.”
Sierra stood there, her body trembling slightly from the storm inside her, but she didn’t respond. She couldn’t. There was nothing she could say to make this right. Nothing to undo the damage. She wasn’t the same girl she had been before. The girl who had blindly obeyed. The girl who had tried to fit into the mold they had created for her. She had shattered that version of herself, and now, standing before her sister, she realized just how much of her old life had died.
Isolde’s words hit her like a slap, but Sierra refused to let the tears come. She wouldn’t let them see her break. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
They shoved her into the center of the gathering, the pack watching with cold eyes, their whispers like a chorus of accusations. She stood there, hands bound, her head held high, even though her insides were screaming. She had never been more alone in her life.
Her parents spoke again, their voices still full of condemnation, but it was like a blur now. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. She had lost everything. The life she had known, the people she had trusted—it was all slipping away.
Later that night, as the pack settled into uneasy silence, Sierra found herself alone in the dark. The moon outside was barely a sliver, casting faint light across her cell. She sat on the cold stone floor, trying to block out the voices in her mind. The shouts. The accusations. The lies.
And then, she heard it.
A voice—quiet and soft—whispered through the darkness, cutting through the silence like a lifeline.
“Sierra.”
It wasn’t a sound she could touch, but it was there. She recognized it. It was his voice. Rowan’s voice. The one thing that had felt real, the one thing she couldn’t ignore.
“Rowan…” she whispered to the darkness, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She could feel him, though. She could feel the pull between them, even though they were miles apart. The bond was still there. And she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to break it.
But she didn’t have to answer. Not now. Not when everything around her was crashing down. Not when the only thing that kept her going was the hope that one day, things could be different.
But for now, all she could do was wait. And dream of his voice in the dark.