Chapter 3
Sophia's POV
The silver wound on Ethan's chest was still bleeding when Cameron burst through the door at dawn, his face grim with urgency.
"Alpha, we've got trouble at the southern border. Rogue pack's testing our defenses again—looks like they're planning something big."
Ethan yanked the dagger from his chest, hissing as silver smoke curled from the wound. He didn't even glance at me as he grabbed his shirt from the chair.
"How many?" he asked, already moving toward his weapons.
"At least a dozen. They've got human hunters with them this time."
'Finally,' I thought, watching Ethan's jaw tighten. 'Something more important than babysitting me.'
He paused at the doorway, those silver eyes finding mine one last time. "Take the moonbane, Sophia. I'll have the healers check on you every hour."
Then he was gone, leaving me alone with the smell of his blood and that damn moonbane bottle staring at me from the nightstand.
The vial of moonbane glowed faintly in the morning light, and I picked it up, turning it over in my hands.
A memory slammed into me out of nowhere.
It was our two month of marriage. Ethan had returned from a border patrol, a deep gash across his shoulder still bleeding silver. The pack whispered that it was my fault—my Silver Moon bloodline made him lose control during the full moon, they said. Made him vulnerable.
The guilt had eaten me alive. I'd been desperate to prove I was worth keeping. I'd spent hours in the moonlight gathering the precious moongrass, grinding it with silver tree berries until my hands were raw.
"I made this for you," I'd said, hands shaking as I held out the vial.
Ethan had taken it, stared at it for a long moment, then walked to the edge of Moonlight Lake.
He'd poured the entire vial into the lake, watching the moonbane dissipate like smoke.
"If you think it's so precious," he'd said, grabbing my wrist with bruising force, "why don't you go down and drink your fill?"
He'd shoved me hard. The lake swallowed me whole, freezing water flooding my lungs while I fought to surface. When he finally dragged me out, my lips were blue and I was barely breathing.
As I turned to leave, something caught my eye on Ethan's desk—a carved wooden totem bearing the Black Pine pack's mark. It was small enough to fit in my palm, but I recognized it immediately. A passage token, used by pack leaders to move freely through allied territories.
'Perfect.'
I slipped the totem into my boot just as voices echoed in the corridor outside.
The southern watchtower was lightly guarded, and the totem worked exactly as I'd hoped. The guards waved me through, and an hour later I was tracking Ethan's scent through the woods.
I hadn't gotten far when I heard footsteps behind me—deliberate, careful. Cameron's men, no doubt, tasked with following me at a distance. They'd forgotten I knew these woods better than anyone.
When I spotted a young wolf-shifter crouched behind a fallen log, I moved fast.
"You," I hissed, pressing my silver dagger to his throat before he could cry out. "You're going to take me to your Alpha. Now."
The kid—maybe seventeen—nodded like his life depended on it.
The border outpost was a rough stone building carved into the side of a rocky hill. Through the main window, I could see Ethan standing over a large map, surrounded by a dozen warriors.
"The hunters are getting bolder," Ethan was saying, his voice carrying clearly through the thin walls. "They've got silver nets and crossbows built to take us down."
One of the warriors, a scarred man with graying temples, pointed to the eastern border. "What about the old treaties? The neutral zones?"
"Worthless," Ethan replied. "They've been compromised. We need to assume every human in a fifty-mile radius knows about us."
'Some of these men might have been there,' I thought, studying their faces through the window. 'On the night of red snow, when my family died screaming.'
My hand found the silver dagger at my waist, and I noticed it was trembling.
That's when Ethan's head snapped up, his nostrils flaring. Those silver eyes locked on mine through the window, his expression shifting from all-business to something that made my stomach flip.
Before I could move, he was outside, lifting me into his arms.
"How did you find me?" he asked, but his tone was gentle, almost pleased.
The other warriors had followed him out, watching our interaction with curious eyes. My face burned. I hated looking so damn helpless in his arms.
"Put me down," I said, but he was already walking away from the outpost.
"We need to talk," he said simply.
He carried me to an ancient stone pavilion overlooking Moonlight Lake, its surface mirror-smooth in the afternoon sun.
Ethan set me down gently on the stone bench, then knelt before me, taking my hands in his. The gesture was tender, intimate, and it made my skin crawl.
"Did you miss me?" he asked, bringing my knuckles to his lips.
The kiss was gentle, almost worshipful—nothing like the monster I knew he was.
"Ethan," I said, my voice deadly calm, "do you know how cold the water in Moonlight Lake gets?"
He blinked, confusion flickering across his features. Then he stood and walked to the lake's edge, crouching down to test the temperature with his fingertips.
"It is pretty col—"
I moved fast, using every ounce of strength I had left to slam into his back. He went down hard, hitting the water with a splash that sent ripples across the entire lake.
Before he could come up for air, I was on him, shoving him down with everything I had.
"Do you remember this feeling?" I snarled, holding him under. "Do you remember how it felt to push me into this same fucking water?"
The bastard wasn't even fighting back.
When he finally surfaced, gasping and choking, I was right there in his face.
"You forgot, didn't you?" I spat, water streaming from my hair. "You forgot that on the night of red snow, you weren't just out on patrol. You were busy slaughtering my family."
"Sophia—"
"My Silver Moon pack. Thirteen people, Ethan. Thirteen lives you took while I was here, playing house with my husband."
"That's not—"
"So tell me," I continued, my voice rising to a shout, "if you were going to kill them all anyway, why didn't you just finish the job? Why leave me alive to suffer?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed my waist and pulled me into the water with him. The cold hit like a slap, sending fire through the silver scars on my chest.
I gasped, the pain making me dizzy, and suddenly his arms were around me, pulling me against his chest.
"I'm getting you out of here," he said, his voice rough with emotion I couldn't identify.
Everything blurred together on the way back—cold, pain, his steady breathing beneath me. Ethan carried me on his back, his body warm and solid beneath my shivering form.
Why did being close to him feel... different now? Less terrifying?
"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why not let me die?"
His steps never faltered, but I felt his breathing change.
"Ethan Hawke," I said, putting all the venom I could muster into his name, "I hate you. When the blood moon ceremony comes, I'll kill you myself. I'll make you pay for what you did to my pack."
His grip tightened, pulling me closer, but he didn't say a word as we approached the outpost.