But then—
"What's going on here?"
The calm shattered. Ace's voice cut through like steel, sharp and demanding. He stood at the edge of the clearing, posture straight, eyes narrowed as they flicked between me and Lance. Unlike his brother, there was no warmth in his stare—only suspicion.
Lance didn't flinch. He straightened slowly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Relax, brother. Just having a chat."
Ace's jaw tightened. "Chats don't usually end with you sneaking off where no one can see." His gaze lingered on me a moment too long, unreadable. "Be careful who you get close to, Lance. Some risks aren't worth it."
The words stung, even if he hadn't said them directly to me.
Lance stepped slightly in front of me, his tone suddenly edged. "Or maybe some are."
The silence that followed felt heavier than any punishment Luna could dish out.
My brow furrowed. "What are you—"
"I spoke to Alpha Turner," he cut in, voice low, controlled. "About your punishment."
I froze, every instinct screaming that I'd misheard. "You… what?"
"Your confinement. It's been reduced." His lips twitched in a faint, almost imperceptible smile, but his eyes remained serious. You stay in your hut at the edge of the grounds. For now, that's enough."
A mix of relief and disbelief washed over me. "You… did this for me?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied me, gauging my reaction. "I don't do things 'for' anyone," he finally said, voice clipped. "But I… I don't see the point of punishing someone who doesn't deserve it."
The words sounded so simple, yet they carried weight—like a bridge in the darkness. I wanted to ask more, to thank him, to understand, but a glance toward the pack house reminded me of the ever-present eyes that could be watching.
"So… that's it?" I asked cautiously.
"For now," Ace replied. His voice softened, just a fraction, a crack in the armor he always wore. "Be careful, Lyca. Do exactly as you're told in public, and keep yourself safe. That's the only warning you'll get from me."
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I will. Thank you… for trusting me."
Ace's gaze lingered, unreadable, before he stepped back into the shadows. "Go. Your hut won't protect you if you linger out here too long."
I exhaled slowly as he disappeared, heart racing—not from fear this time, but from the strange warmth his words left behind.
For the first time in a long while, I felt… seen.
Lyca! Lyca!! Is that you?" Avana's voice rang out the second I pushed open the door to our little apartment.
"Yes, it's me!" I called back, my voice raw with exhaustion.
My muscles still throbbed from hours of enduring the humiliation of standing in front of the pack. Ace might have reduced my punishment, but the weight of all those eyes on me hadn't faded.
I waited for Avana's reply. Nothing. Just silence, only my breathing filling the air. Typical—she always called, then vanished, leaving me to answer the empty space.
With a weary sigh, I dropped onto the worn-out couch, sinking into its sagging cushions.
My body felt heavy, each bone aching from fatigue. Since the rogue attack, the pack had been tense—patrols doubled, strict curfews, fear thick in the air.
And me? I was still the outsider, the one people whispered about, the one they blamed without reason.
Nadia's constant stares whenever Lance so much as looked my way. Cavo's mother, whispering "death" under her breath when I passed. I didn't ask to be this. I didn't ask for golden eyes or the Lycan blood everyone feared. But here I was—bearing it anyway.
"You look awful. And you smell like it too."
I turned my head slowly toward the voice. Avana leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, her blue eyes sparkling despite the sharp words.
I let out a tired laugh. "Thanks, Ava. Always so encouraging."
She raised an eyebrow, then marched over and tugged me up by the wrist. "No excuses. Shower. Now."
"Ava—"
The bathroom door clicked shut behind me.
I shook my head with a faint smile, peeling off my soiled clothes. The smell hit me hard and I scrunched my nose.
"She's right… I really do smell."
Warm steam filled the room as water spilled from the showerhead. At least luna hadn't taken this small comfort from me. Cinnamon-scented soap lathered across my skin, washing away dirt, sweat, and a little of the day's shame.
I borrowed some of Avana's shampoo, working it through my tangled hair, closing my eyes as the suds ran down.
For a moment, my mind drifted back—Alpha Turner finding me as a starving pup on the border, a piece of paper clutched in my tiny hand with only one word: Lyca. He had thought I was a wolf until I opened my eyes. Golden. Not wolf. Not quite human. Something else.
Every time I asked more, Luna Maya ended the conversation with icy glares and sharp words. Her hatred for me was bone-deep, and I never knew why.
"Lyca! Hurry up! Pack meeting in an hour!" Avana's voice carried through the door.
I rinsed quickly, wrapping myself in a towel. Dressing fast, I pulled on a white crop top, ripped black jeans, socks, sneakers, and tied my damp hair in a messy bun.
Most of the clothes I owned came from Avana's kindness; I had stopped pretending otherwise.
Stepping into the living room, I found her perched on the couch, phone in hand, her bright hair catching the light.
"Ava—" I started, but the door burst open.
"Hello, ladies!" Cavo strolled in with his usual grin, slamming the door behind him.
"Cavo! You're alive!" Avana squealed, jumping up to hug him.
I smirked, leaning back against the couch. "What happened? Did your mother finally loosen the chains?"
He shot me a glare. "Very funny. I missed you too."
That only made Avana giggle, and I couldn't help but smile. Almost everyone knew how protective his mother was—it was both tragic and oddly amusing. Even his bad-boy looks couldn't scare her into giving him freedom.
"Anyway," I said, biting into one of Avana's apples, "what's this meeting about? You always know."
Cavo's smirk widened. "Word is Beta Venkur wants to send Nadia to another pack to be matched."
My head tilted. "Matched? Why so fast? What if her mate is here?"
"Not everyone can wait forever," Cavo shrugged. "She's twenty-four already. That's practically ancient in pack terms."
Avana gasped. "Ancient?"
He chuckled. "She's four years older than us. Do the math."
"Ohh," we both said together. Then I muttered, "She wouldn't find a mate anyway. Not with her personality."
Cavo and Avana exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.
"What?" I asked, feigning innocence.
"Her personality? That's how you describe it?" Avana teased, shaking her head.
I laughed too, but I meant it.
Before long, Cavo's expression grew serious. "We should move. We're cutting it close. And you know what happens if we're late."
None of us needed another warning. In an instant, we were out the door.