Chapter 29 AN EXCITING IDEA
Rever’s POV
Sharon walked into Rever's study with a heavy heart, filled with anger. Rever looked up from the map that was all over his desk. He looked tired on his face.
She yelled at Rever, "You can't keep ignoring me!" and slammed her palm against the wood. "Pier must know something about me, right?" "About my wolf."
Rever's jaw got tight. "Sharon now is not the time..."
"Exactly the right time!" she yelled, her voice shaking with anger. “Every time Pier shows up, he’s one step ahead, and I’m stuck playing catch-up. Rever, I need to know. What is he talking about? What does he know that I don’t?”
Rever leaned back, his eyes dark and unreadable. For a moment, quiet stretched between them, heavy and smothering. Finally, he breathed, rubbing his temples as though trying to ease an unseen ache.
“Pier has... theories,” he admitted slowly. “About your wolf. About what makes you different.”
Sharon’s heart skipped a beat. “Theories?” she echoed. “What kind of theories?”
RRiverpaused, his gaze moving to the window as though expecting Pier to burst in at any moment. “Your wolf isn’t like the others,” he said finally. “It’s stronger. Older. There are... hints in the old books about dogs like yours, but nothing solid. Pier thinks you’re special and that you’re the key to something bigger.”
Sharon stared at him, her mind running. “Something bigger? What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know,” River admitted, his voice filled with anger. “But whatever it is, it’s why he’s so obsessed with you.”
Before Sharon could answer, a loud knock echoed through the packhouse. Rever’s head snapped up, his entire body tensing. Sharon followed him as he walked to the door, her heart racing in anticipation.
One of the soldiers stood at the entrance, his face pale. “Alpha, Pier’s messenger is here. He’s asking to speak with you.”
Rever’s eyes flicked to Sharon, his face grim. “Stay here.”
“Like hell, I will,” Sharon shot back, following him out the door.
The messenger stood in the middle of the courtyard, his stance stiff and his face empty of feeling. He was guarded by two of Pier’s men, their presence a silent danger.
“What does Pier want now?” Rever ordered, his voice cold and forceful.
The messenger’s eyes moved to Sharon, his lips twisting into a faint smile. “He has a proposition,” he said easily. “One that concerns her.”
Sharon stepped forward despite Rever’s warning glare. “What kind of proposition?” she asked, her voice steady.
The messenger’s smile widened. “Pier is willing to spare this pack,” he said. “But only if you come to him willingly.”
The courtyard fell quiet, the weight of his words falling over everyone like a storm cloud.
Nott,” Rever growled, his hands tightening at his sides. “Tell Pier he can take his proposition and shove it.”
The messenger’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’ll relay your response,” he said, bowing mockingly. “But I should warn you: if Sharon doesn’t come to him, Pier will destroy this pack. Piece by piece.”
Rever took a dangerous step forward, but Sharon put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Wait,” she said softly. Turning to the messenger, she asked, “Why does he want me?”
The messenger’s smile faltered slightly. “That is a question only Pier can answer.”
Sharon’s mind raced. The vague warnings, the bloodied token, the obsession Pier seemed to have with her—it all pointed to something she couldn’t ignore. But before she could say more, the messenger and his guards turned and fled into the forest, leaving behind an oppressive quiet.
Back inside the packhouse, the anxiety was obvious. Rever paced the room like a caged animal, his anger radiating off him in waves.
“You’re not going to him,” he said strongly, his words leaving no room for debate.
“I didn’t say I was,” Sharon answered, her tone equally determined. “But we can’t just ignore this, Rever. If Pier is ready to destroy the pack to get to me, then we need to figure out why.”
“I already told you,” Rever said, stopping to face her. “He thinks you’re special. That you’re the key to something bigger. That’s all we know.”
“And that’s not enough,” Sharon shot back. “I can’t keep fighting blind. If there’s a chance to get answers, I have to take it.”
“No,” River said, his voice sharp. “You’re not risking yourself for this. For him.”
Sharon stepped closer, her eyes burning. “And what if it’s not just about me? What if Pier’s plan puts everyone at risk? The pack, the area, everything. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”
Rever’s face relaxed, but his determination didn’t weaken. “We’ll find another way,” he said quietly. “But I won’t let you walk into his trap.”
Sharon didn’t respond. Instead, she turned and walked away, her mind spinning with options.
That night, Sharon lay awake in her room, looking at the ceiling. Pier’s words repeated in her mind, teasing her with their uncertainty. The bleeding sign sat on the table, a sad reminder of the risks.
She thought about Rever, about his fierce determination to protect her. She thought about the pack, about the lives that would be lost if Pier made good on his threats. And she thought about the questions that had haunted her since the moment Pier’s men had come.
What did he know about her wolf? About her past? About the power, she didn’t fully understand.
Finally, unable to take the uncertainty any longer, she made her decision. Quietly, she slipped out of bed and dressed in dark clothes. She grabbed the ticket, slipped it into her pocket, and crept out of her room.
The packhouse was silent, the only sound the soft creak of the floorboards beneath her feet. She dodged the main hall, sticking to the darkness as she made her way to the door. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a warning of the risk she was taking.
As she stepped outside, the cool night air enveloped her. She stopped for a moment, looking back at the packhouse. Guilt tugged at her, but she pushed it away. This was something she had to do—for herself, for the pack, for the truth.
She turned and went into the trees, the darkness taking her whole.
The next morning, Rever stood in Sharon’s empty room, his face a mask of anger and misery. The note she’d left on the bed was crumpled in his hand, and the words burned into his mind:
I’ll find the truth. Don’t follow me.