Chapter 1
Sophia's POV
The warmth against my back should have been comforting. Instead, it made my skin crawl.
I lay perfectly still, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, the arm draped possessively around my waist. Ethan's breath ghosted across my neck, and I had to bite down hard on my tongue to keep from screaming.
'I'm lying in the arms of the man who slaughtered my entire pack.'
The thought hit me like a physical blow.
Thirteen members of the Silver Moon pack. Thirteen people I'd called family, butchered in the snow while I was too weak, too fucking useless to save any of them.
My body started trembling despite my efforts to stay still.
I couldn't help it—the rage was always there, simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.
Ethan stirred behind me, his grip tightening slightly as he pulled me closer. His hand came up to gently turn my face toward his, and I found myself staring into those silver-grey eyes that haunted my dreams.
"Don't be nervous," he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion from last night's transformation. "The moon hasn't set yet. We can rest a little longer."
The tenderness in his voice made me want to vomit.
How could he touch me so gently when those same hands had torn apart everything I'd ever loved?
But I stayed quiet, forcing my breathing to remain steady while I studied his relaxed features.
Even in sleep, Ethan looked like the predator he was—all sharp angles and dangerous beauty.
Last night, during the full moon, he'd shifted to protect me from some threat in the forest. I'd watched him take a silver blade across his ribs, seen the way he'd positioned himself between me and danger.
It would have been almost touching if I didn't know the truth.
My fingers slowly crept toward the nightstand where the silver wolf-fang dagger lay waiting.
This was it. This was my chance.
I turned the blade toward his throat, my hand shaking with a mixture of fury and anticipation. Just one quick thrust and it would all be over. Justice for my pack. Justice for—
Ethan's eyes snapped open.
Those silver-grey depths locked onto the dagger hovering inches from his jugular. The metal seared my palm, and I gasped, forced to drop it as pain shot up my arm.
"Fuck," I hissed, cradling my burned hand.
Ethan sighed, the sound heavy with resignation rather than anger. "You refused to take the moonbane elixir again, didn't you, Sophia?"
Before I could answer, he moved with that inhuman speed.
One moment I was reaching for the fallen dagger, the next I was pinned beneath him, his hand wrapped gently but firmly around my throat.
"I wasn't—"
"Don't lie to me." His free hand traced the silver scars across my chest—the word "traitor" carved deep into my skin, a permanent reminder of my failure. "Your control is slipping. I can smell it on you."
"Get off me," I snarled, trying to buck him off.
Instead of pulling away, Ethan leaned down and captured my lips with his.
I tried to bite him, to fight, but then I tasted something bitter flooding my mouth. The moonbane elixir. He'd been holding it, waiting.
"Swallow," he commanded against my lips, his voice leaving no room for argument.
The liquid burned all the way down, and I felt that familiar dulling sensation as it worked through my system. My wolf retreated further, taking with it the sharp edge of my rage and leaving me feeling hollow and weak.
Ethan finally pulled back, studying my face with those infuriatingly gentle eyes. Then he was rolling away, reaching for his clothes as if I hadn't just tried to murder him in his sleep.
"Cameron will take you to Moonlight Lake today," he said conversationally, pulling on his jeans. "The water there will help with your wounds."
I stared at him, speechless. How could he just... move on? Pretend like nothing had happened?
"I don't want to go to the fucking lake," I spat, sitting up and pulling the sheet around myself. "I want you to stay away from me."
Ethan paused in buttoning his shirt, finally meeting my eyes.
For just a moment, something raw and painful flickered across his features before that controlled mask slipped back into place.
"I know," he said quietly. "But you're going anyway."
He headed toward the door, then stopped with his hand on the handle. "The scars will fade, Sophia. All of them. I promise you that."
Then he was gone, leaving me alone with the taste of moonbane bitter in my mouth and the echo of words that sounded almost like hope.
I touched the raised letters carved into my chest, feeling the familiar sting of silver poisoning. The word "traitor" seemed to pulse under my fingertips, a constant reminder of what I'd lost.
'Soon,' I promised myself. 'Soon I'll find a way to make you pay for what you did to them.'
But as I sat there in the morning light filtering through the windows of the cliff outpost, I couldn't shake the memory of how he'd looked at me—like I was something precious he was desperately trying not to break.
It made me hate him even more.