Chapter 2

Rhea’s POV

Dagan ordered me into his carriage without asking where I wanted to go. When I remained on the road, two warriors lifted me inside.

“Monica’s birthday banquet begins tonight,” Dagan said. “You will attend, apologise for your behaviour, and stop dividing this family.”

He spoke as if Black Hollow had been a brief punishment instead of three years stolen from my life. Dagan had once slept outside my room after my first shift because Kiro growled at every stranger. He promised neither half of me would ever face fear alone. I remembered that promise during every night beneath the mine.

My mother, Mara, had also trusted him. Before my fathers became Redfang leaders, they were wounded fugitives. Mara hid them, treated their injuries, sold her jewellery for weapons, and used her family’s land to fund their first fighters. Merek’s healer training and Calder’s forge had both been paid for with her money.

Once they gained power, they bonded with Lady Vesta. Vesta offered alliances, soldiers, and a place among the northern packs. Mara was a poor village healer who reminded them of the years when they owned nothing.

They stopped visiting her. They also stopped answering her letters. The official Redfang story claimed Mara became jealous and refused every offer of help. Dagan said she used illness to demand attention until it killed her. I had believed that story as a child because my fathers repeated it whenever I asked about her.

Nola, Mara’s former attendant, later told me something different. No healer had gone to Mara’s village. She died because she could not afford treatment while the four men she had saved were holding feasts with Vesta.

Dagan studied my thin face and the damaged skin around my wolf mark. For a moment, he looked troubled.

“The reports said you refused meals whenever the instructors corrected you,” Dagan said. “They said you scratched yourself and pretended your wolf mark was failing so they would release you early.”

“They starved me when I could not work,” I replied. “The guards damaged the mark.”

“Merek reviewed every monthly health report,” Dagan answered. “There was no record of serious injury.”

“A lie written by a healer is still a lie.”

Dagan’s concern disappeared behind anger. “The warden also told me what you attempted this morning,” he said. “You were going to sever Kiro.”

“The guard stopped me,” I replied. “You do not need to pretend it matters.”

“Pretend?” Dagan asked. “You waited until your release day to do it. You wanted us to see the wound and blame ourselves.”

“I did not know anyone was coming.”

Dagan gave a cold laugh, but his eyes returned to my injured mark. “You are exactly like Mara. She also rejected help, then used every illness to accuse us of abandoning her.”

Kiro growled weakly inside my mind. She remembered Dagan’s hand resting on our black fur after my first shift. I pressed my fingers over the mark until her anger settled.

“My mother died alone,” I said. “You do not get to complain about how she suffered.”

Dagan’s eyes hardened. “Mara refused every healer we offered. At least, that is what we were told. If you want a place in Redfang again, you will kneel before Monica tonight.”

“And if I refuse?” I replied. “Then Merek will examine you, and you will remain under guard until we know whether any of these injuries are real.”

The carriage turned towards the stronghold. Redfang banners covered the towers for Monica’s birthday, and cheering wolves lined the road. I had been free for less than an hour, yet another prison was already waiting.