POV: Beta Luther Cain
I ducked behind a tree as the guard passed by. Three wolves, young and eager, their noses sniffing the air for any sign of danger. For any sign of me.
Once, they would have bowed their heads when I walked by. Once, they scared me.
Now I was nothing but a liar. Exiled. Hunted.
The wolves moved on, and I let out the breath I'd been keeping. Three weeks since Amara had removed me from the Blood Moon Pack. Three weeks of hiding in the woods that used to be my home, sleeping in caves and eating whatever small animals I could catch.
How quickly they'd forgotten everything I'd done for the pack. Fifteen years as Beta, keeping them safe, making them strong. And one mistake—just one—had cost me everything.
No. Not a mistake. Kamla's death had been necessary. She was weak, too soft to lead. The pack needed strength. My strength.
I'd almost succeeded too. If only Amara hadn't fled. If only Elias hadn't found the truth.
