Chapter 2 Ch.2

The night wind howled through the trees like a wounded beast, but Oliver didn't flinch. She stayed at the cliff's edge, her gaze locked on the dense forest below. She had memorized this view long ago. It used to bring her peace. Now, it just reminded her of how far she'd fallen.

She heard Elias shift beside her, his thick arms crossing over his chest. "You want to tell me what the hell just happened back there?"

She didn't respond right away. Her breath clouded in the cold night air.

"He looked me in the eye," she said eventually, her voice barely audible. "And he said he didn't know if he loved her."

"Then he's a fool," Elias muttered. "A damn, blind fool."

Her throat tightened. "I don't think it's blindness. I think it's weakness."

He gave a low grunt. "I'd rip his throat out for you if I thought you'd let me."

"I appreciate the offer," she said, trying to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But I'd rather do it myself."

There was silence between them for a long moment. The kind that didn't need filling. The kind that settled over grief like a shroud.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" she asked quietly.

Elias snorted. "You threatened to shove wolfsbane tea down my throat for questioning your herbal mixture."

She actually smiled this time. "You had a sprained paw and an attitude."

"I still do."

She turned her head slightly to glance at him. "Why are you still here, Elias? Everyone else-"

"I'm not everyone else," he said firmly. "I was loyal to you. Not just to Jason. You were the heart of this pack."

Her smile faded. "Not anymore."

"No," he agreed. "Now you're the ghost they're pretending not to see. And ghosts don't stay quiet forever."

Oliver didn't answer, but her fingers curled around the edge of her cloak.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," she said finally.

He tensed. "Where?"

"Somewhere they won't follow. Somewhere I can think. Breathe. Heal."

"And plot," he added with a knowing look.

"And plot."

He reached into his coat and pulled something out-an old leather-bound notebook.

"What's this?"

"Maps. Border patrol patterns. Schedules. Weak spots." His voice dropped. "You're not the only one who's been watching while they celebrated your downfall."

She took the book, eyes scanning it as she flipped through the pages. "You planned this?"

"I had hope you wouldn't need it. But I'm not naïve."

She looked up at him, her heart aching. "You shouldn't get involved."

"I already am."

"You'll lose everything."

He smiled grimly. "Everything I valued was ripped from this pack the day they made her Luna in all but name."

Oliver's grip on the notebook tightened.

"I need time," she said. "To learn. To train. To remember who I am without him."

Elias nodded. "I'll cover your tracks. Make it look like you left out of grief. I'll report back when I can."

She hesitated. "You're risking exile."

He shrugged. "I've always liked the mountains."

She pulled him into a tight embrace, her voice muffled against his chest. "Thank you."

"I believe in you," he said simply. "Even if no one else does."

She pulled back, her eyes damp but fierce. "They'll regret it."

"I'm counting on it."

That night, while the pack danced and drank under silver chandeliers, Oliver slipped through the back gates with only a satchel, her cloak, and Elias's notebook. No one saw her leave. No one noticed the cold trail she left behind.

She traveled through the Whispering Pines for hours, the scent of pine needles and damp moss surrounding her. Her wolf stirred restlessly inside her, emotions tangled and raw.

Not yet, she told it. Soon.

By sunrise, she reached the edge of rogue territory-an abandoned cabin nestled near a frozen creek. She crossed the threshold alone.

Dust clouded the air. Cobwebs clung to the corners. A broken window let in a sliver of golden morning light.

Home, for now.

She spent the first few days in silence, gathering herbs, boiling water, cleaning the space. Keeping her hands busy while her heart unraveled.

By the end of the week, she had burned her old ceremonial cloak and carved a new blade from silver ashwood.

The next week, she started running every morning. Training in the clearing behind the cabin. Her muscles ached. Her skin bruised. But the pain felt good. Real. Honest.

She hunted. Trapped. Learned.

And each night, she opened Elias's notebook and memorized another page.

One night, three weeks later, she stood in front of the cracked mirror, holding her own gaze.

"You are not his," she whispered. "You are not theirs. You are not broken."

The mirror reflected back a woman with wild eyes, calloused hands, and something dangerous coiled behind her ribs.

You are reborn.

Then, one night-too soon, too fast-there was a knock on her cabin door.

She froze.

No one knew she was here. Not Elias. Not any of the patrols.

The knock came again.

Then a voice.

"Well, well. You don't look dead."

Oliver's spine stiffened.

She opened the door slowly.

Standing in the snow was a tall figure dressed in a weatherworn coat, a blade strapped to his hip and a smug smirk on his scarred face.

Kade Thorn.

Her brother.

Long estranged. Thought to be rogue. Dangerous in ways most couldn't comprehend.

She narrowed her eyes. "How did you find me?"

"Call it sibling instinct," he drawled. "Or maybe I followed the trail of shame and fury you left behind."

She didn't smile. "Why are you here?"

"Because you're planning something reckless. And I like reckless."

Oliver studied him for a long moment. Then stepped back.

"Come in."

As he crossed the threshold, she knew something was shifting. She'd started alone-but she wouldn't stay that way.

The world thought they'd buried her. Replaced her.

But ghosts don't stay buried.

And vengeance never sleeps.

Oliver hadn't seen Kade in nearly seven years-not since the night he walked away from the Emberfang Pack, a bloodied blade in hand and fury in his eyes. Back then, she was barely seventeen, still caught between her quiet dreams of being a healer and her new bond with the brooding future Alpha. Back then, Kade had been her protector, her sword and shadow, the wild half of her soul she didn't understand but always trusted.

Now, he was older. Harder. The boy was gone.

She studied him in the dim firelight as he moved across the creaking floorboards of the cabin like he owned the place. The scars on his jaw were new. His eyes, once warm and stormy, were now cold and calculating.

"I was expecting a bigger welcome," Kade said, tossing his snow-dusted coat onto the table.

"I was expecting to live in peace, alone," she shot back.

He let out a low whistle. "Damn. You've grown claws."

"You didn't come to catch up. Why are you really here?"

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "You disappeared. Word travels, even through rogue territory. The pack says you ran away heartbroken."

"They would."

"They also say Jason found his true mate." Kade's voice tightened around the word true, like it tasted bitter. "A witch in silk dresses who purrs lies and pisses perfume."

Oliver almost smiled. "So you've heard of Astrid."

He narrowed his eyes. "He chose her over you?"

She met his gaze. "Yes."

Kade's jaw flexed. He didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared into the fire like it had insulted him personally.

Then he said, "Tell me everything."

And she did.

She told him about the Harvest Ceremony. About how Jason didn't look at her all night. About how he stood beside Astrid like she hadn't bled beside him in battle, hadn't nursed his mother through her final days. About the lies, the silence, the slow, humiliating unraveling of her place in the pack.

She told him how the once-loyal warriors had looked away as Astrid slipped into her role like a silk glove, while Oliver had been reduced to whispers and pitying glances. How Jason hadn't lifted a single finger when Astrid's accusations began-how he'd let Oliver take the fall for things she didn't do.

Poisoning rumors.

Disloyalty.

Treason.

"I saved that pack more times than I can count," she whispered. "And in the end, they made me feel like an intruder in my own skin."

Kade's voice was ice. "I should've killed him when I had the chance."

"Get in line."

He leaned forward. "So what's the plan?"

She hesitated. The fire crackled between them.

"I don't have a full one yet. Just pieces."

"You want war?"

She didn't answer.

Kade smiled faintly. "You don't have to say it. I know that look. It's the one Dad had before he burned Black Hollow to the ground."

"I'm not Dad."

"No," he agreed. "You're better."

She let out a breath. "I need time. I need strength. I need people who won't hesitate when I tell them what to do."

Kade tilted his head. "And what exactly will you tell them to do?"

She met his gaze without flinching. "I'll tell them we're taking back what was stolen. That we're burning down the rot. And that the next time someone calls me 'Luna,' they'll mean it."

Kade's grin was sharp and savage. "Now that's my sister."

She stood, crossing to the dusty shelves along the back wall. Her fingers traced old glass jars-dried herbs, medicinal roots, and poisons she no longer needed to pretend she didn't know how to use.

"I'll need alliances," she murmured. "There are packs who hate the Emberfangs. Packs Jason's father crushed under his rule. If I approach them right..."

"They'll follow," Kade finished. "Especially with me at your side."

She turned to face him. "You're really staying?"

"I didn't come to play house, Ollie. I came because blood calls to blood. And no one treats my sister like a discarded bone and lives to brag about it."

Her throat tightened.

He reached for her hand, rough fingers brushing hers. "We're going to make them wish they never crossed you. All of them. Astrid. Jason. Every coward who looked away when they should've stood up."

"I want them to beg," she whispered. "I want them to crawl."

"And they will."

A long silence fell between them, heavy with everything unsaid.

Then, softly, she asked, "Do you think I'm being cruel?"

Kade stared at her.

"No," he said. "I think you're finally being honest."

For the first time in weeks, something like clarity settled in Oliver's chest. Not peace-but purpose.

She was no longer waiting to be chosen.

She would choose herself.

She would rise.

That night, they dragged an old training dummy from the collapsed barn behind the cabin. Kade watched her strike it, again and again, until her fists bled and her shoulders ached.

He said nothing.

Just handed her a knife.

She didn't hesitate. She slashed through the air, the blade gleaming like moonlight in her hands.

"I want you to fight me," Kade said suddenly.

Oliver turned. "Now?"

"Now."

She blinked. "You're serious?"

"You think Jason will go easy on you when you return?" Kade growled. "You think Astrid will whisper spells and play fair?"

He stepped into the clearing. "I want to see what five years beside the Alpha taught you."

She bared her teeth. "Fine. Just don't cry when I break your nose."

They circled each other in the snow, brother and sister-both shaped by pain, both tempered in fire.

The first strike came fast. He lunged, and she ducked, spinning to deliver a blow to his ribs. He grunted, countering with a sweep to her legs.

She hit the ground hard-but rolled and kicked upward, landing on her feet.

Their breaths steamed in the air.

"Good," he said. "Again."

They trained for hours, bruising each other with every move, shedding years of silence and separation with every strike.

By the time dawn painted the sky in pinks and gold, Oliver was on her knees, panting, soaked in sweat and snow.

Kade stood over her, bruised and bloody.

"Tell me again what you want," he said.

She looked up, eyes burning with frost and fire.

"I want them to feel what I felt. To bleed like I bled. To watch everything they love turn to ash while I watch."

Kade's smile returned. "Then you're almost ready."