She Who Was Cast Aside

The thunder in my chest threatened to drown every other sound while I gulped for air, the acrid perfume of treachery still hanging over the clearing. I had never imagined the confrontation would spiral this far—certainly not this fast.

A feral snarl split the hush behind me; something heavy crashed into my ribs and hurled me to the ground. Dirt filled my mouth as I skidded across the packed earth. When I blinked grit from my eyes, I saw Minnie only for an instant—long enough to witness Will rush in and scoop her against his breast.

“K‑Will…” I rasped, but the syllables cracked apart.

The obsidian gaze that once warmed me now blazed like volcanic glass. “What were you thinking, Sharon? Minnie crossed our borders bearing a flag of truce, and you treated her like a mangy marauder.”

My limbs trembled as I clawed my way upright; the throbbing in my body could not rival the ache sawing through my heart. His condemnation sliced deeper than any talon.

“She provoked me,” I shot back, voice ragged. “She spat on my mother’s memory—claimed she was weak for dying in that raid, hinted I could have saved her.”

A shadow—remorse? dread?—flitted across Will’s features, but he buried it beneath a mask of authority almost immediately.

“Your mother’s passing was heartbreaking,” he said, tone granite‑hard, “yet that does not excuse the attack.”

I heard my own pulse pounding in my ears. “No excuse? You insisted the assault was unavoidable, that her death was an unintended casualty. Now I’m questioning everything.”

His jaw flexed until I thought his fangs might pierce his lip. “This discussion can wait.”

Minnie’s syrupy cadence slipped between us. Her eyes shimmered with self‑satisfaction, though a thin rivulet of crimson trickled along her hairline where my claws had grazed skin. “I wouldn’t blame Sharon for harboring resentment,” she cooed. “Dorian did sever their mate bond to claim me. Perhaps her claws merely voiced what her tongue couldn’t.”

The words stung; my shoulders twitched. Will’s arm contracted protectively around her. Speech abandoned me.

“Sharon.” His voice dropped to frost. “You will extend an apology to Minnie—here and now.”

Something inside me tore loose. Muscles quivered, itching for a full shift, yet I caged my wolf with sheer will. “I will not,” I hissed and pivoted away.

Over the crunch of gravel I still caught Minnie’s stage‑whisper: “If she despises me this much, darling, perhaps I should avoid visiting. I’d hate to damage… whatever bond you two still pretend exists.”

An involuntary snarl rumbled in my chest, but I swallowed it. I refused to fracture further in front of them.

---

Night draped the settlement by the time I limped into my private den. Shifting back to two legs, I wiped caked soil and dried blood from my fur‑etched skin. My hands shook as I seized the silver pendant engraved with our pack crest—once a badge of pride—and jerked it free. The chain snapped with a metallic sigh that felt like prophecy.

A sharp rap echoed. I ignored it; the door creaked open anyway. Rowan, one of our sentries, stepped inside, unease rippling across his features.

“Alpha Will asked me to bring this to you.” He proffered a rolled parchment.

I unsealed it; Will’s pen strokes slashed across the page:

I understand your anger. Nevertheless, Minnie is integral to a treaty with the Crescent Claw Pack. The fate of Midnight Moon may hinge on her welfare. I’ll compensate you—perhaps that gift you’ve coveted. Please don’t complicate matters further.

The scroll crumpled in my fist. A trinket for silence—was that all my loyalty warranted?

I stuffed a small satchel with bare necessities: twin daggers, a travel cloak, and a farewell letter I’d drafted weeks earlier yet never dared dispatch. I would vanish—tonight—leaving Will and his politics behind.

---

Moonbeams filtered through skeletal branches as I trod a secret route toward an abandoned watchpost marking our frontier. Every element of my disappearance was planned—right down to the illusion of a fatal end.

When I neared a rocky ridge, low voices drifted on the wind. I flattened behind a granite boulder and listened.

Will’s timbre carried first. “Summon our best medics. Cost is irrelevant—Minnie requires premier care.”

Roman, ever cautious, responded, “She suffered a shallow cut, Alpha.”

“Her condition is immaterial,” Will barked. “She embodies our pact with Crescent Claw.”

Heat flooded my veins. There it was. Diplomacy eclipsing devotion—again. I slipped away before their scents touched mine and headed for the crooked hut of the witch who owed me a life‑debt.

The bargain was straightforward: she would weave an enchantment to erase my trace, simulating death so convincingly that not even the most gifted tracker could challenge the lie. Hours blurred while chants spiraled through incense‑choked air. Candles guttered, sigils flared, and, at last, the spell sealed.

One task remained: Rowan would deliver my letter once news spread of my demise.

---

Dawn bruised the horizon rose‑gold when I stepped back into the forest. A shiver crawled over my spine—someone approached. Then a frantic cry echoed from distant clearing.

“Will! It’s Sharon—she’s gone! She’s dead!”