Chapter 4 Ashes And Betrayal

RHEA

The darkness is suffocating until something pierces it. I hear a crack. A pop. The sharp scent of smoke thick and choking. Then pain. Agonising, searing pain in my wrists, in my lungs, in every inch of my skin.

I wake with a jolt, the gag still in my mouth, flames dancing just feet away. The heat is unbearable. My vision is practically useless, my eyes watering uncontrollably. I cough violently, a raw sound that tears up my throat.

Move, something inside me growls.

Survive.

I close my eyes and force the shift--only a fragment of it. My hands tremble, my bones creaking, claws pushing free from my fingers with a guttural cry of pain.

Rip the rope.

I scream against the gag as my claws slice through the bonds, skin tearing with the effort. My arms drop free, numb and shaking. I fall to the floor with a hard thud. It knocks the air out of me, but I don't stop.

The smoke is thicker here. My lungs beg for air. My legs barely move, but I crawl. Fingers scraping across the floorboards. The fire hisses and snarls behind me like it knows I'm trying to leave.

I reach the hallway, disoriented, and sobbing, but I can’t stop. I have to escape.

But a thought flickers, cruel and cold: Why? Why fight? Why crawl? There's nothing left. No home. No love. No mate.

I pause. My knees buckling. My head sways. Wouldn't it be easier to let it all end here? To close my eyes and let the fire erase me? But something else answers inside me.

I want vengeance against Kieran. I want to see him pay for what he did to me.

No. He doesn't get to win.

With a scream that's swallowed by the flames, I drag myself forward. My eyes sting, but I see a break in the wall. There's a charred, crumbling hole from the fire.

I crawl toward it. Flames nip at my heels. Heat melts into my skin. My flesh screams. I can smell burning.

It's me, I'm burning.

I throw myself through the hole.

Pain explodes in white-hot sparks as I crash into the cold outside. I roll down a slope, my limbs barely responding, landing in a patch of dirt and ash. I cough, heaving, sobbing, but I'm breathing.

I'm alive.

My skin is blistered. My clothes charred. My strength is all used up. But I made it out.

I walk. Stumble. Crawl. I don't even know where I'm going. The trees sway around me. The cold air bites my scorched flesh. And then everything fades again into darkness.

---

It’s been two months.

Two long, hazy, pain-soaked months since the fire. Since the night I should have died.

I don't remember much of the first few weeks, just flickers. The brush of cool cloth against scorched skin. The scent of herbs and ointments. Soft hands and soft voices taking care of me. There' a constant ache that made sleep a stranger.

When I wake fully, I'm told I was found collapsed by the road, barely breathing. Half-burned and unrecognisable. My flesh torn and blistered.

They thought I was already dead.

But I was breathing.

The woman who saved me is called Mira. She's a strong wolf, older, with streaks of grey in her black curls and sharpness in her amber eyes. She has two quiet and watchful daughters who keep their distance. They treat me gently, like I might shatter at any moment.

I catch my reflection sometimes by accident, in a window, in the still water behind the cabin.

I'm not who I used to be.

The scars run jagged across my left cheek, down my throat, curling across my shoulder like vines. My skin, once smooth and whole, now looks like something patched together. Disfigured. Damaged.

Ugly.

Mira doesn't flinch when she looks at me. That's how I know she's strong. Or maybe just used to pain.

She tells me today is the day I'm strong enough to hear the truth.

So I sit outside the little wooden house, wrapped in a blanket even though it’s warm, staring at the forest trees while Mira joins me. There's something heavy in her eyes. Something she's carried alone until now.

"I knew your mother," she says softly, her voice catching in the hush of the woods. "She saved my mate during the rogue wars. We owe your family a great debt."

I nod faintly. I didn’t even know Mira existed, but somehow, the words make my throat tighten.

"I also know who you are, Luna Rhea."

My chest tightens at the title. It feels foreign now. Like it belongs to someone else.

"But no one else knows you're alive," Mira continues. "And that might be what keeps you alive."

She looks me dead in the eye.

"Kieran… announced you died in a tragic fire. Said he tried to save you, but the flames took you too fast."

I want to laugh. Or maybe scream.

Instead, I just stare.

"He claimed you died with honour. That the Moon Goddess took her beloved Luna home."

Luna.

The word rattles inside me.

"He didn’t mourn long," she adds, quieter now. "He's taken a new mate."

My heart goes still. I already know what she's going to say. And yet when she says it everything inside me shatters.

"It's Eva."

"No," I whisper. It doesn't feel real. "No, she wouldn't…"

"She has."

I double over, my breath stolen. My fingers clutch at my chest, like I can stop the pain from tearing me apart. But it’s no use. Eva.

My best friend. My only friend. My sister in everything but blood.The one person who knew how much I hurt. The one person I trusted. Tears clog my vision, spilling hot and silent down my ruined cheek. The scars don't even sting any more. This pain, this betrayal, makes everything else feel like a paper cut.

I can't speak. I can't think. I can't even fucking feel anymore. It's the kind of pain that silences the soul. Mira says something, but I don't hear it. I'm sinking.

Sinking into the memory of flames. And the sound of Kieran’s voice, cold and final. "I never wanted you."