ena

's private room creaked open, pul

fore Silas, his head bowed so

coured the records. There is no O

ash of genuine confusion c

urled into a cru

wirling his whiskey. "A traitorous ro

a rogue, a wolf without a pack, brin

s the memories of how I bec

th Freya eight years ago, I had g

's death and Silas's exile, demanding

ine, his gaze sweeping over me not as one would a riv

g me his Silver Crest Pack was alrea

s staying by Silas's side, playing

snapping completely under th

s display table and lunged at him, plu

our kind, burning our flesh and

ped of my pack membership and throw

to the damp stone walls

troying my vocal cords. The corruption of pure silver is absolute; it creates wounds tha

ally left the region to build hi

ss, looking at my bruised, bleeding body as if my very p

ass and delivered the most v

e spat, "is now the precise m

, ignoring the burning silver ch

the truth about Julian, but on

nt, desperate tears w

this on yourself," before turning o

eon, I was officially a Rogue, a wanderin

ly blocked his scent from the world

live and safe was by paying the stree

rned on those readings, refusing to ask a si

mate and without my pack, my life

lian had found me shi

wing me a picture of Silas and Freya

ore offering me a place in his bed as his secret mistress. His eye

a in my ruined throat and spat d

e and orchestrated my ruin. But I never knew that my stubborn pride would lead me to