Serena ran her hand through the fur of the large tabby cat resting in her lap. The scent of decaying leaves filled the air, signaling the change of seasons. Yellowed leaves fluttered down, detaching from the branches above.
The cat hissed suddenly and leapt from her lap, irritated by her overly firm touch. Serena sighed and stood, smoothing down her apron before stepping away from the chair.
She walked into the small house and pulled back the curtains. It had become a daily ritual for her, to watch the sunrise each morning. Each dawn served as a reminder that she had survived another day since her exile.
Serena reached for the broom leaning against the wall, her hand hovering just above the worn handle. She stared at it for a moment before letting her arm drop. The house could stay as it was. Today, the thought of cleaning felt as heavy as the accusations that still haunted her. Today marked two years since Alpha Henry had exiled her from the pack.
Serena wished, more than anything, that they had executed her instead. It was only because her father had saved the Alpha during a skirmish that she faced exile rather than the expected execution. That Oath that seemingly birthed her prolonged torture.
She had to continue living with the painful knowledge that everyone she loved now saw her as a monster. Seeds of doubt had been sown deep into their hearts.
Her hand moved to the pendant around her neck, gently clasping it. Her hand moved to the pendant around her neck, her thumb tracing the worn edges. Inside was a photo of her late husband, Beta Cullen Brigman. Cullen would have known what to do. He had always been a brilliant strategist and a great speaker.
Serena squeezed the fabric of her apron, her teeth clenched tightly. She willed herself not to cry. Yet, despite the time that had passed, the tears still came, silently tracing paths down her cheeks.
The image of her brother's eyes, filled with doubt and pity, flashed through her mind. She was grateful her parents had passed away long before this disgrace, sparing them from witnessing her fall from grace. Worst of all, her wolf, Feyra, had gone silent, leaving her utterly alone.
How the mighty had fallen. Once the wife of the Beta and the Senior Healer of the pack, Serena was now nothing more than a disgraced criminal, a woman with a soiled name. The evidence had seemed damning, yet no true intent was ever found, it was all a carefully fabricated lie.
Her thoughts drifted back to the accusations that had sealed her fate: the poisoning of Cullen, leading to his untimely death, and the grave illness that had struck his cousin Lucas during her trial.
Even now, Serena doubted she could have convinced herself of her innocence had she been sitting in the council's place. The vial had been found in her drawer, hidden carefully.
It was Venemora, a deadly poison that required activation with specific herbs known only to skilled healers. It could be concealed only in food, making her the perfect scapegoat.
She shook her head, forcing the memories away. No more.
Cullen's laughter echoed in her mind, clear and vibrant. She could still feel his arm around her waist, spinning her around in celebration of his victories at work. She could still remember the way he peppered her with kisses whenever she was upset with him.
"Curse the moon," she muttered under her breath, wiping away the tears that had stained the wooden table.
—
Serena strained her ears, her breath halting as she tried to confirm if the distant howling was real. She clutched her basket tightly. Who would be this close to the riverside?
Life as a rogue was a daily gamble, but Serena had managed to cheat death countless times. She was confident in her skills, yet today, fear gripped her chest.
She glanced over her shoulder, the trees shifting uneasily in the wind. She was two hours from home, a normal walking distance, but far enough to feel vulnerable.
She had ventured this far only because she was craving moonshade pies. The bushes of berries she needed were the closest ones in the area, and despite the risk, she couldn't resist her sweet tooth.
Serena hoped the sounds were just phantom noises caused by nipperkin, small, mischievous spirits that were usually harmless. But she could never be too sure, especially with the great storm fast approaching Lupine Hollow and the surrounding areas.
—
In about ten minutes, she reached the riverbank, her boots crunching softly against the dead leaves. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth and fast-moving water. Her father had always told her that as long as she stayed near a river, she could survive anything. His words echoed faintly in her mind, though they did little to steady her nerves.
Before she could form another thought, something slammed her into the ground. The impact drove the air from her lungs, and pain lanced through her shoulder as she hit the earth.
The wolf remained silent, but Serena knew the feeling of facing a cornered animal. She thrashed desperately, trying to free herself. Without her wolf's connection, she was as vulnerable as a lamb.
She brought her knee up sharply, a desperate move that made the wolf above her wince and loosen its grip. Scrambling to her feet, she prepared to run, but the scene before her stopped her cold.
Behind the black wolf lay two people, a male and a female, who appeared even younger than Serena. Both bleeding heavily, their blood seeping into the restless water.
"Please," she begged, pointing toward them. "By Lunara, I swear they will die. Let me help."
The wolf snarled in response, edging closer to the injured pair. It stumbled before collapsing, its form twisting and shuddering as fur gave way to flesh. Though wounded, he was not as severely injured as the younger ones.
Serena rushed to his side, quickly removing her apron and draping it over his naked body. She rummaged through her black satchel, pulling out yarrowberries. Crushing them in her hand, she spat into the mixture and applied the makeshift paste to his wound.
The man cursed under his breath as the cool mixture made contact with his injury. "Please, we seek refuge," he murmured.