Chapter 2

The familiar scent of pine and wildflowers hit me as I crossed into Silvermoon Pack territory. Three years away had dulled my senses to the comforting smell of home—or what I'd once called home. Now it felt like walking into a stranger's house.

Pack members bustled about, hanging lanterns and setting up tables for what appeared to be a celebration. My heart clenched. Alec's Coming-of-Age ceremony. I'd missed it by just days.

"Melissa!"

I turned to see Dean striding toward me, his Alpha aura radiating power and authority. The sight of him—the man I'd believed was my true mate—made my wolf snarl inside me.

"Thank the Moon Goddess you're back," he said, his voice carrying just enough concern to sound genuine to anyone who didn't know better. "We were worried sick."

I noticed how his eyes scanned me, taking in my worn clothes and tired face with calculated assessment rather than affection.

"Three years," I said quietly. "You worried for three years?"

Something flickered across his face—annoyance? Concern? It disappeared so quickly I couldn't tell.

"Of course," he said, reaching for my arm. I flinched away. "You've been through an ordeal. Come inside. You need rest."

As he guided me toward the pack house, I caught the subtle shift in his expression—a tightening around his eyes as he activated his mind-link.

"Harmony," I heard him say through our weakened bond. "She's back. Damage control."

My stomach twisted. Even now, he was plotting with her.

The pack house was decorated with silver and blue ribbons, preparations for Alec's ceremony in full swing. Pack members stopped their work to stare as Dean led me through.

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

"His room," Dean replied. "I'll take you to him."

But before we reached the stairs, the object of my thoughts appeared at the top landing. Alec stood tall and proud, so much taller than the boy I'd left behind. His eyes—my eyes—narrowed when he saw me.

"So you decided to come back," he said, his voice cold and formal.

"Alec," I whispered, taking a step toward him. "I came as soon as I could."

He descended the stairs slowly, each step deliberate. When he reached me, I tried to embrace him, but he stiffened and pulled away.

"Don't," he said sharply. "You don't get to pretend you care now."

"Alec, please—" I began.

"You left," he cut me off. "For three years. Everyone told me you abandoned us—abandoned me."

"That's not true," I said, desperation creeping into my voice. "I was trying to save you. I thought—"

"You thought what?" he demanded. "That I needed saving? Or was it just easier to run away?"

I reached for his hand, but he pulled back as if my touch burned him.

"I did everything for you," I said, tears threatening to spill. "Everything."

He looked at me with eyes so like his father's—cold, assessing, judging.

"Harmony told me how you couldn't handle being an Alpha's mate," he said. "How you chose to live among rogues instead of fighting for your place here. For me."

The cruelty of his words stole my breath. Behind him, I caught a glimpse of Harmony watching from the hallway, her expression carefully neutral.

Hours later, we gathered for the pre-ceremony dinner. I sat at the far end of the Alpha's table, as far from Dean as possible without being obvious. Harmony entered with a flourish, her silver dress catching the light.

"Melissa!" she exclaimed, rushing toward me with outstretched arms. "My dear sister!"

She embraced me tightly, her perfume overwhelming my senses. "We were so worried," she whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear. "But you're back just in time for the celebration."

I felt her fingers dig into my shoulders—a warning disguised as affection.

Around us, pack members whispered behind their hands.

"Three years with the rogues..."

"Can you imagine what she did to survive?"

"The Alpha's mercy to let her back at all..."

"Doesn't deserve to sit at the Alpha's table..."

Harmony's grip tightened as she pulled away, her smile never reaching her eyes.

"We have so much catching up to do," she said sweetly. "But first, dinner."

As servers brought out platters of food, I felt the weight of every stare, every whispered word. My son sat beside his father, refusing to look at me. My mate—no, not my mate—watched me with calculating eyes.

And Harmony, my once-sister, smiled and whispered and cut me apart with every honeyed word.

I sat alone in a room full of wolves, more isolated than I'd been in three years among rogues.