Chapter 1

I was the Alpha's lost bloodline, raised far from home. I was thin, pale, and covered in ugly scars no one wanted to look at.

Lucia Abbott was the pack's jewel, carefully raised and fiercely protected. She was beautiful, powerful, and loved by everyone.

Before she fell from the cliff, her soul scream tore through the entire pack.

"Lyla joined the enemy! She tried to kill me!"

No one questioned it.

After all, who would believe a filthy lone wolf over someone as pure as moonlight?

My fiancé chained me to the ritual altar.

My father lit the Moonfire Trial fire with his own hands.

The flames burned through my wolf spirit, ripping my memories apart and forcing them into the sky for everyone to witness.

It was a public execution offered to the entire pack.

But the truth was worse than death.

It was slow destruction, carved piece by piece.

Chapter 1

"You're late."

Lucia Abbott stood at the edge of the cliff, her silver hair glowing under the moonlight.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked.

"Do you know about the witch's prophecy?" she said.

"What prophecy?"

She stepped closer to the cliff, her heels nearly hanging over open air.

"The prophecy from the Northlands witch. She said..."

She paused, eyes locking onto mine.

"She said the true bloodline is about to awaken. The exiled daughter will take everything back. Dad's love, the pack's authority, and... Caleb."

She said Caleb Wright's name softly, but it cut deep.

"That's nonsense," I said. "I only came back to—"

"To what?" she snapped, her voice suddenly sharp. "To destroy everything I have? I've lived in this family for 15 years. 15 years!"

I took a step back. "Lucia, I never thought—"

"But I did!"

Her smile twisted, tears shining in her eyes.

"I've imagined it so many times. How peaceful things would be if you'd just died. If the werewolves who took you had torn out your throat."

"You knew about me being taken?"

My voice tightened. I refused to let my mind go there.

"Dad mentioned it once when he was drunk."

She tilted her head, resentment burning openly now.

"The enemy used you to lure Mom away from the battlefield. She left to find you and got surrounded and killed. Dad was badly injured searching for both of you. He can never have pups again."

The truths I had avoided for years were suddenly dragged into the light. Guilt crushed the air from my lungs.

"You already destroyed this family once!"

Every word stabbed into my chest like ice.

Silence spread between us.

When she spoke again, her voice was calm.

"Lyla, I don't have a choice."

By the time I realized something was wrong, it was already too late.

She lunged forward, nails digging deep into my skin.

She whispered, "Guess who they'll believe. You or me?"

Then she released me and leaned backward.

"Lucia!"

But it was too late.

Her body dropped over the cliff.

A scream exploded instantly through the pack's mind link. Not from below the cliff, but directly inside every wolf's head.

It was a desperate soul cry, powered by her own life force.

"Lyla joined the enemy! She tried to kill me! Help!"

The terror in her voice felt horrifyingly real.

I stood frozen at the edge, my hand still hanging in the air where she had been.

Footsteps thundered behind me.

"Lucia!"

Caleb's roar came first.

He jumped off the cliff without hesitation, his claws scraping sparks from the rock as he descended.

More pack members rushed in behind him.

"Down there! She's down there!"

"Caleb found her!"

"That's so much blood..."

"Is she still alive?"

Amid the chaos, I couldn't move. My hands and feet felt numb with cold.

Caleb leapt back onto the cliff, Lucia cradled in his arms.

Her white dress was soaked dark with blood.

A brutal claw mark tore across her chest.

"I need a healer!" Caleb's voice shook. "Get a healer now!"

"Lyla!"

My father's furious roar crashed over me, his Alpha pressure forcing me to my knees.

Everything was happening too fast, but I forced myself to speak.

"It wasn't me. She set me up! She said I'd take everything from her, so she—"

"She risked her life just to frame you?" the grand elder, Russ Cooper, cut in.

He looked at me as if I were something filthy stuck to his shoe.

"Lucia is the most gifted werewolf this pack has seen in a century. Why would she risk dying just to accuse you? That's ridiculous!"

Chapter 2

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Because Russ was right.

Whispers spread through the crowd like rising tidewater.

"She's a wild wolf that could never be tamed..."

"She actually attacked her own sister."

"What did she leak to the enemy?"

Questions slammed into me one after another.

I shook my head. "I didn't leak anything. After I came back, I didn't contact anyone. I stayed in my stone cabin most of the time."

Russ immediately seized on my words. "No one paid attention to you, so you grew resentful of the pack's neglect and decided to take revenge?"

"That's not true!"

"Then what is?" My father finally spoke again.

He stepped forward. His voice sounded rough, and I saw red veins lining his eyes.

"Tell the truth. Who did you meet? What did you give them?"

"No one!" I stared straight at him. "Mom died for the pack. I would never—"

"She died because of you!"

His face hardened.

"If you had listened back then, you wouldn't have ended up lost outside the pack. I wouldn't have needed to adopt another pup to replace you. So in the end, you grew resentful. Is that it?"

Replace me.

So that was how he saw it.

"You really think I'd betray you?" My voice trembled despite myself.

My father's Alpha pressure pressed down harder. "Lyla, this is your last chance. Tell the truth."

"I am telling the truth!"

He stayed silent for a long time.

"I don't believe you."

Something inside my chest shattered at those quiet words.

"Alpha." Russ stepped forward. "This concerns the survival of the pack. I formally request we begin the Moonfire Trial."

The moment those words were spoken, the pack erupted.

Everyone knew what that meant.

The Moonfire Trial was a forbidden ritual.

The accused wolf's spirit would be burned, its memories ripped out and forced into the open.

Once the fire started, it wouldn't stop until death.

"That's a death sentence," a young wolf blurted out. "Even if she betrayed us, shouldn't we question her first—"

"What if she's stalling for time?" someone else shouted.

The pup's mother quickly covered his mouth, urging him to stay quiet.

"Start the trial!"

"Begin the trial!"

The crowd's anger surged higher and higher.

My father looked at their faces, then back at me.

"Dad." My voice shook. "I'll die."

"If you're innocent, the trial will prove it."

His voice sounded strained, as if he was forcing the words out.

"But if you really joined the enemy... Your mother wouldn't want to see you like this."

"I didn't!" I finally broke. "Why won't you believe me?!

"Is it because I'm not as beautiful or strong as Lucia? Because you think my return ruined your perfect family?"

He didn't answer.

He turned to the warriors instead. "Bring the chains. The trial begins at dawn."

Two warriors dragged forward silver chains.

"No..."

The moment the shackles snapped around my wrists, the silver burned into my skin. Pain exploded through me, tearing a scream from my throat.

They dragged me away from the cliff, through the crowd.

Pack members spat and threw stones at me.

The dungeon gate slammed shut behind me, and darkness swallowed everything.

What would they see tomorrow?

Would they see the moment 15 years ago when the enemy tore me from my mother's arms?

Would they see the nights I nearly froze to death in the snow?

Would they see the three years I spent wandering just to find my way home?

I pulled my knees tight to my chest and buried my face in my arms.

When the sun rose tomorrow, when the flames were lit, everything would end.

I hoped my father would see clearly.

He had to.

Chapter 3

Dawn came too fast.

The guards dragged me out of the dungeon.

The square was already packed with onlookers.

My father stood before the altar, wearing formal Alpha robes.

Caleb stood to the right in full armor.

Lucia was in a coma, too badly injured to attend.

She played the perfect victim.

Two warriors gripped my shoulders and hauled me forward.

They forced me down in front of the pack. My knees slammed against the stone with a dull crack.

"Lyla," my father said, "you stand accused of attempting to murder your fellow pack member, Lucia, and conspiring with outside enemies. Before the trial begins, you may give a final statement."

I lifted my head and met his eyes. "Dad, last night at the cliff—"

"Get to the point," Russ interrupted. "Did you betray the pack?"

"No."

I looked at my father, pleading silently for him to believe me just once.

"I didn't."

Boos rose from the crowd.

"Then why is Lucia injured?"

Caleb's golden eyes locked onto mine, sharp enough to cut through bone.

"Lucia was afraid the prophecy would come true. She thought I'd take everything from her."

His stare made my throat tighten. My voice came out dry.

"She framed me. All of this was her doing."

"What prophecy are you talking about?" my father asked.

I hesitated. Would they believe me?

"Nothing to say?" Caleb's voice turned cold. "Because there is no prophecy. Right?"

"There is!" I raised my voice. "She told me herself last night. She said a witch prophesied my bloodline would awaken. She said—"

"Where's the proof?" my father cut in.

Right. Proof.

No one else had been there. Only her and me.

"I'll find evidence," I said.

My father closed his eyes and drew a slow breath.

"Do you accept the trial?"

"What if I don't?"

I clung to the last fragile hope that he might still give me another chance.

"Refusal is an admission of guilt," my father said, staring straight at me. "And those who confess are executed immediately."

Wind swept through the square. Torches crackled in the cold air.

What difference did it make?

Something inside me finally went still. I stopped hoping.

"I accept."

At least the trial might leave behind the truth, even if it came too late.

My father nodded, his voice formal again.

"The Moonfire Trial requires direct contact with flame. Before the trial begins, the accused must remove their garments and stand exposed before the pack as a sign of repentance."

I froze.

"What?"

My fingers clenched around the rough leather cloak, trembling.

"I'm your daughter," I said, staring at him. "You really want me standing in front of everyone like this?"

"It is the procedure," he replied flatly. "If you're innocent, you won't fear showing your scars."

"This is humiliation!"

The words tore out of me, tears burning in my eyes.

"Then you shouldn't have done what you're accused of," Caleb said.

He gave a small gesture. Two female warriors stepped forward.

The moment they tore away my cloak, the crowd gasped.

"Moon Goddess..."

"Those scars..."

"The enemy must've done that."

"She said she escaped on her own. Maybe they sent her back as a spy."

My father stared at the long scar across my back. His lips moved slightly.

"The enemy did this, too?"

"No. After I escaped, a snow leopard attacked me. Someone stitched the wound with bone needles. Seventeen stitches, no medicine, no herbs to stop the bleeding. I thought I was going to die, but I woke up."

I looked up at him, tears finally falling.

"Because I kept thinking that once I crossed seven more mountains, I'd see the pack's signal fires. I just had to make it home. My father was waiting for me."

Chapter 4

For a moment, something in my father's eyes softened. He looked like he wanted to speak.

Russ's voice cut through the silence.

"Alpha! The enemy's mark!"

Russ pointed at me, fury twisting his face. "She carries a Northlands slave brand!"

It sat on my left shoulder. A flame-shaped scar burned deep into my flesh.

"She was a slave?"

"Why didn't the enemy kill her?"

"Traitor! She's a traitor! I knew it!"

"I'm not!" I struggled, chains rattling loudly.

My father's hand trembled slightly.

His voice rose, crushing the noise. "Silence."

The square fell quiet.

But the stares hurt more than the shouting ever had. They were sharp and cold, like needles against my skin.

Caleb stepped closer again.

"Wait!" I shouted hoarsely. "I still have something to say! Mom—"

"Enough!" my father barked. "You don't deserve to mention her."

I froze where I stood.

My father stepped down from the altar, his voice shaking.

"She spent her entire life protecting this pack. And you? You come back only to betray us!"

"I didn't—"

"Take her up!"

He shoved me aside.

I staggered backward and slammed into a stone pillar.

Caleb approached, holding a heavy iron collar lined with silver spikes.

"Caleb," I said, looking into his golden eyes, "you said you'd protect me."

His movements paused.

"Do you remember?" My voice came out soft. "When we were six, we were playing behind the ridge. You fell into a trap pit and broke your leg. I carried you all the way back. You told me anyone who bullied me would have to answer to you."

His throat moved as he swallowed.

"I didn't betray the pack. Will you believe me just once?"

He tightened his grip on the chain and glanced toward my father.

My father avoided his gaze.

"Proceed," he ordered.

The strength drained from my body all at once. Despair settled over me like cold water.

The collar snapped shut around my neck. Silver spikes pierced my skin.

Pain flashed white across my vision, almost forcing a scream out of me.

I swallowed it down.

My father climbed back onto the altar and accepted a torch from the priest.

The flame burned an unnatural silver white. It was a fire meant to scorch a wolf spirit itself.

He stopped in front of me.

The torch hovered about a foot from my face. Heat rolled over my skin.

"Lyla," he said one last time, "do you confess?"

I looked at the werewolf I called "Dad".

"My only crime," I said quietly, "was believing I still had a home here."

For a brief second, his face twisted in the firelight.

Then he lowered the torch and lit the altar.

Silver flames came alive, crawling toward me like living things.

The instant the fire touched my skin, a scream tore out of me.

The world blurred. Memories ripped free from my soul.

Light gathered above the altar, and the flames grew higher.

My thoughts began slipping away.

At the same time, my father was gripping his staff tightly and Caleb was staring upward, unmoving.

The trial had begun.

The sky shifted.

The first fragment pulled from my memories ignited above the altar.

Everyone lifted their heads to watch.

I looked up, too.

The memory formed into a scene.

A small stone room appeared. I recognized it immediately. It was the storage room I had been given after returning home.

A crack ran through the wall, leaking water every time it rained.

"This was your third day back." My father's voice rang out. "Do you remember what happened that night?"

I kneeled against the stone floor, my throat tight. "I remember."

"Good," he said. "Because Lucia cried all night."

The image moved.

The door opened, and Lucia stepped inside.

"Lyla," she said softly. "Are you asleep?"

The version of me in the memory sat up from the stone bed.

I looked thinner then. My gaze was wary, like a frightened animal.

"Do you need something?"

"I brought you something."

She pulled out a small cloth pouch and held it toward me. "Chamomile powder. Mix it with hot water. It'll help you sleep. You just got back. I figured you might be having trouble resting."

I didn't take it.

"I'm good."

Her hand lingered in the air.

"Lyla... do you hate me?"

I stayed silent.

"I know my presence makes things hard for you," she said, her voice catching. "Sometimes I feel like… I took your place."

Chapter 5

In the memory, my expression was complicated, caught between doubt and hesitation.

"I don't hate you," I had said. "I'm just not used to any of this."

"Then please take this, okay?"

She offered the pouch again, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

I hesitated for a long time before finally reaching out.

The moment my fingers touched the pouch, Lucia suddenly let go.

It dropped to the floor. Gray powder scattered across the stone.

Something else fell out with it.

A silver stone the size of a robin's egg rolled across the floor, glowing softly under the moonlight.

A gasp rippled through the crowd watching the memory.

"That's a moonstone!" someone shouted. "Ms. Lucia's mother's keepsake!"

In the memory, Lucia's expression changed instantly.

"My moonstone..." Her voice trembled. "Why is it... Lyla, when did you take it?"

I froze. "I didn't."

"But it fell out of your bag." She stepped back, eyes filling with hurt.

I bent down to pick it up. "You handed me the pouch. How would I know—"

"Don't touch it!" she screamed.

The door opened at that exact moment.

My father stood in the doorway with Caleb behind him.

"What's going on?" my father asked, frowning.

Lucia turned and rushed into his arms, tears spilling instantly.

"Dad, my moonstone disappeared. I searched all day, and then... it showed up with Lyla..."

Her shoulders shook as she cried, voice breaking.

"I just wanted to bring her something to help her sleep. I don't understand how this happened..."

My father looked at me.

The stone was still in my hand.

"Lyla, explain yourself."

"The pouch came from her," I said calmly. "She let go while I was taking it. The stone fell out. I don't know why it was inside."

Caleb spoke, "Why would Lucia frame you using something her mother left her?"

"I don't know," I said. "But it came from the pouch she handed me."

My father stared at me for a long time.

Then he said, "Give the stone back to Lucia."

I handed it over.

Lucia clutched the stone tightly, tears still falling. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Lyla, this is the only thing my mother left me. If you wanted it, you could've just asked..."

"What are you even crying for?" My voice began to shake, anger slipping through. "Why put on this act? Why?"

She cried harder, clinging to my father as if she'd been wronged beyond repair.

"Dad..."

She didn't need to say anything else. A few tears were enough to tilt everything in her favor.

My father closed his eyes and took a slow breath.

He said to me after opening them again, "Apologize."

I went still. "What?"

"Apologize to Lucia. Then return to your room. You're grounded for three days."

"I didn't do anything wrong!" I raised my voice. "She set me up!"

The memory froze there.

The projection in the sky slowly faded away.

My father lowered his gaze from the fading image and looked at me.

"This is the innocence you claim?"

"That was a setup," I said, my voice dry.

Russ spoke again. "Why would Lucia risk her mother's keepsake just to frame someone who poses no threat to her?"

"Because she was afraid of the prophecy—"

"Enough with the prophecy!" my father snapped. "Do you have anything else to say?"

I clenched my jaw.

Caleb spoke next, "If you were innocent, why didn't you fight harder back then?"

I froze.

Why?

Because in that moment, watching my father hold a crying Lucia, I understood something clearly.

Nothing I said would matter.

The answer had been obvious.

"Can't answer?" my father said, disappointment heavy in his voice. "Because you knew you were wrong even then?"

"No."

I lifted my head and met his eyes.

"Because I already knew you wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said."

His expression stiffened for a brief second.

"Alpha," Russ said, "this memory doesn't reveal who her accomplices are."

"I know," my father replied. "Continue."

The instant he finished speaking, the collar around my neck tightened violently.

Pain struck like lightning, tearing through my consciousness.

The sky flared again.

Before the image even fully formed, I heard my own trembling voice echoing out.

"I really didn't touch that dress..."

Chapter 6

Before the image fully formed, Caleb's voice cut through the air, cold enough to freeze blood.

"It was my coming-of-age ceremony."

He stood at the edge of the altar, looking down at me.

Silver flames crawled across my skin, tearing through my wolf spirit. Pain ripped through me again and again, but I bit down hard on my lip, refusing to scream.

"At my ceremony," Caleb said again, "you ruined Lucia's dress."

The memory sharpened into focus.

Caleb's coming-of-age.

He had just turned 18 and had officially become a warrior. My father was presenting him with his ceremonial sword.

Lucia wore a pale silver gown trimmed with shimmering shell pieces that caught the light like moon glow. My father had hired the best tailor in town to make it. It took three months of work.

And there I was in the corner, wearing an old gray dress.

It had been given to me by a fallen warrior's widow who felt sorry for me.

"Look at her," someone whispered. "Like a stray that wandered inside."

"Ms. Lucia is even bringing her juice."

"What a waste of her kindness."

In the memory, Lucia walked through the crowd carrying two glasses of berry juice.

"Here you go."

She offered one to me.

I didn't take it.

"I'm not thirsty. Thanks."

"Today's important for Caleb," she said gently. "We should at least celebrate him."

After a moment, I accepted the glass.

"Thank you."

Lucia smiled and raised her own drink. "To our future warrior."

She tilted her head back and took a sip.

I lifted mine as well, but I barely let it touch my lips.

Then suddenly, Lucia stumbled.

The glass slipped from her hand. Red berry juice splashed across her chest.

Her silver dress instantly stained dark red.

"Ah!" Lucia cried out.

The next second, she staggered backward into a long table, knocking over a candle stand.

Flames spread across the tablecloth. Chaos erupted instantly.

In the middle of it all, my glass was still in my hand, untouched.

But no one noticed.

Every eye was focused on Lucia.

"My dress!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Dad gave me this dress..."

My father hurried over.

"What happened?"

"Dad!"

Lucia threw herself into his arms, then looked at me through tear-filled eyes.

"Lyla, why did you push me?"

I froze. "I didn't!"

Lucia sniffed weakly. "If you hated seeing me wear this dress, if you hated Dad giving me something so nice, I would've taken it off and given it to you. Why push me?"

"I didn't push you."

The entire pack turned to look at me. I felt lost under their stares.

My father looked at me, his expression darkening.

"Lyla."

"I really didn't." I gripped the glass so tightly that my knuckles turned white. "Ask the pack members nearby. They must've—"

"I saw it."

Caleb's voice cut through everything.

He stepped forward from the crowd, his face tight with anger. His proudest day had just been ruined.

Caleb stared straight at me. "I saw you push Lucia."

The words hit like a physical blow.

"What?"

"I was standing on the other side of the pillar," Caleb said, pointing toward the hall. "I had a clear view."

"You're lying." My voice shook. "You weren't there. You were accepting congratulations from the elders. I saw you!"

"So now you're saying Caleb framed you, too?" My father's voice rose sharply.

"He's lying!" I practically shouted. "Why would I push her? I didn't even want to stand near her!"

Lucia sobbed softly. "Lyla, if you wanted something, I would've given it to you. I would give you everything. But you shouldn't have ruined Caleb's ceremony..."

She looked as if she could barely stand. My father held her tightly in his arms.

Chapter 7

"Apologize to Lucia and leave," Caleb said, his voice tight with anger. "Now."

I looked into his eyes and suddenly felt as if I didn't know him at all.

My father spoke next, "Lyla, this is your last chance. Apologize."

I looked at him. Then at Caleb. Then at all the faces around me filled with disgust, disappointment, and open contempt.

"Fine," I said.

I set my glass down on the table and turned toward Lucia.

I took a deep breath and bowed my head.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have ruined your dress."

Lucia buried her face against my father's chest and cried even harder.

Caleb shot me an impatient look. "Get out. You're not welcome here."

For a moment, I found myself envying Lucia, protected inside the circle formed by Caleb and my father.

Then I turned and walked out of the hall.

The memory slowly faded.

Back in the square, the third elder, Theo Marshall, spoke up. "She apologized."

"Because she knew she'd been caught," Russ replied immediately.

"But the juice in her glass didn't spill," someone said quietly.

Everyone turned toward the speaker, a young warrior standing near the edge of the crowd.

He immediately lowered his gaze.

But it was too late. The words were already out.

Caleb snapped toward him. "What did you say?"

"I-I just meant..." the young warrior stammered. "Her glass was still full. If she pushed someone, the drink should've spilled."

"Maybe she kept her balance," Russ said quickly.

"But Ms. Lucia crashed into the table," the young warrior continued, gathering courage. "With that much force, the glass shouldn't have stayed steady."

My father turned to Caleb, whose face had gone pale.

"Caleb," my father asked, "did you really see it happen?"

Caleb's lips parted.

His gaze shifted to me. I was shaking under the flames, my body trembling from the pain, but I forced myself to lift my head and meet his eyes.

"I..." Caleb hesitated for the first time. "I was accepting congratulations. When I turned, I caught it out of the corner of my eye."

"Out of the corner of your eye?" my father pressed. "Not clearly?"

"It was crowded. I was far away," Caleb admitted, his voice lowering.

"And you're sure it was me?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

"Caleb," my father said, his tone heavy, "answer her."

Caleb closed his eyes.

"I believed it was you," he said at last. "You were the only one standing in front of her."

"So you didn't actually see it," I said. "You just assumed."

"Lucia had no reason to destroy the most important dress she owned!" Caleb snapped, frustration breaking through.

"Other than you, I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her!"

"You see?" I said slowly. "The moment she cries, you believe her. All of you do."

"But why would she frame you?"

"Because she's afraid of the prophecy!" I shouted. "She's afraid my bloodline will awaken. Before I could even find my footing, she needed everyone to hate me. She needed to bury me completely!"

"Enough with these baseless claims!" my father cut in sharply.

"Then what about these memories?" I struggled against the chains, metal clattering loudly.

"First, the moonstone. Then the dress. Every time, she was the one who approached me first. Dad, did you never question it?"

My father's expression stiffened.

"But none of this proves you didn't betray the pack," he said hoarsely. "Continue the trial."

"Alpha..."

"Continue!" he roared.

The collar tightened again.

Pain swallowed me whole once more.

Chapter 8

This time, the pain was different.

It didn't just burn my skin anymore. It drilled deeper, burrowing into my bones.

Cold sweat poured down my face as my body shook uncontrollably.

The sky lit up again.

"This was two months ago," Russ said, disgust heavy in his voice. "The time Lucia almost died."

Before the image fully formed, Lucia's crying echoed through the square.

"Dad... I feel awful..."

The memory sharpened.

It was the pack's medical lodge.

Lucia lay on a stone bed, her skin tinged purple, lips dark and trembling.

The healer kneeled beside her. "Wolfsbane poison. If the dose had been any stronger, we wouldn't have saved her."

My father stood nearby, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

"Who did this?"

Caleb stepped forward, holding a bowl. "Lucia said Lyla brought this to her."

My voice came from outside the frame. "I didn't!"

The memory shifted.

I saw myself standing at the entrance, two warriors gripping my shoulders.

"I never brought Lucia anything!" My past self struggled against them.

Lucia spoke weakly from the bed, "Lyla, do you hate me that much?"

Caleb lifted the bowl toward me. "A servant witnessed you carrying this into Lucia's room."

"Which servant?" I demanded.

A thin young maid was pushed forward.

She kept her head lowered, trembling. "I... I saw Ms. Lyla carry a bowl into Ms. Lucia's room."

"When?" I asked.

"In the afternoon."

"Where did I get the bowl?"

"Fr-from your own room..."

"My room?" My voice rose. "My room is on the far west side of the pack grounds. Lucia's is on the far east side. You're saying I carried poison across the territory, and nobody else saw me?"

The maid froze, unable to answer.

"M-maybe someone saw but didn't say anything..."

"Then bring everyone who walked that path!" I turned toward my father. "Question them one by one!"

My father studied me for a long moment.

Then he said, "Investigate."

Half an hour later, five warriors returned.

"Three pack members passed through that area this afternoon," the lead warrior reported. "A she-wolf fetching water and two patrol guards. None of them saw Ms. Lyla."

My father looked at the maid.

Her face went pale. "M-maybe I remembered the time wrong..."

Lucia suddenly broke into violent coughing.

"Dad," she whispered weakly, reaching out, "I feel terrible..."

My father immediately returned to her side and grabbed her hand.

"Healer!"

"The poison hasn't fully cleared. She needs to keep purging," the healer said.

"Use the strongest medicine we have," my father ordered.

"Okay."

He turned back toward me.

"Lyla," he said, "this only proves you might not have walked that particular path."

I spoke slowly, every word deliberate, "Someone paid that servant to lie."

"Who would do that?" Caleb asked.

"Wolfsbane only grows in the Northlands. The pack doesn't even have it. If I poisoned her, when would I have gone to gather it? I haven't left the territory since returning."

My father turned to the healer. "Do we have wolfsbane anywhere in the pack?"

"No," the healer replied, shaking his head. "It can't grow here. It's native only to the Northlands."

I continued, "And if I wanted her dead, why would I do it in broad daylight where someone could see me? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

Caleb frowned, uncertainty creeping into his expression.

My father turned back to the maid.

"What was Lyla wearing when you saw her?"

The maid froze.