Another Letter
The sun had long dipped below the horizon when Cedric stormed into his home, the heavy slam of the door echoing through the hall. His wife, startled from her sewing, looked up with a forced smile.
“Cedric, you’re home early—”
“Enough,” he cut her off sharply, his voice cold and thunderous. He paced the room once before turning on her with eyes dark as storms. “Where is Samantha?”
Her lips parted, a lie already on the tip of her tongue. “She’s still with my cousin in Eastwood. You know, helping with—”
“Do not play that game with me, woman!” Cedric roared, slamming his fist against the table so hard that the plates rattled. His face was flushed, veins standing out on his neck. “I was there today. At your cousin’s house. Do you know what I found? Nothing! No Samantha. Not a single word of her!”
His wife’s face drained of all color, her hands trembling as she clutched her apron. “I… I can explain—”
“Explain?” His laugh was harsh and bitter. “You dare mock me with more lies? Tell me the truth, or by the Moon Goddess, I will drag your deceitful tongue before Alpha Damian himself!”
When she hesitated, fear flickering in her eyes, Cedric stepped closer, towering over her like a judge ready to deliver sentence. His voice dropped lower, deadly.
“If you do not speak now, you will no longer be my wife. I swear it.”
Tears welled in her eyes as her courage shattered. Her knees nearly buckled as she fell back into the chair. “S-Samantha… she… she is in Dam-Nighade Pack.”
Cedric froze. His entire body stiffened, his face twisted in disbelief. “What?”
“She… she went to serve as a maid in the Luna’s household. She wanted forgiveness for her past mistakes,” she stammered, wringing her hands.
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room. Then Cedric let out a sharp bark of laughter, more bitter than amused.
“Forgiveness?” His voice dripped with scorn. “Do you truly expect me to believe that? My daughter—our daughter—who has never lowered her head to anyone, now scrubbing floors for another woman? Foolish woman, you dare to insult me further with such a tale!”
His wife sobbed harder, clutching at his sleeve. “Please, Cedric! I swear it is the truth. She is there now, serving the Luna. But you mustn’t tell Alpha Damian! Please! If he learns of it, he will kill her. And she is our only child!”
Cedric’s jaw clenched, his chest heaving with fury and despair. He could not deny he knew Samantha too well—her pride, her hunger for power. If she was truly in the Luna’s quarters, then it was no act of humility. It was another scheme.
For a long while he said nothing, his eyes dark with thought. Then, finally, he stepped back, his voice rough.
“Very well. I will not go to the Alpha. Not yet. But hear me, woman—she will not stay there. That place will destroy her. You will fetch her back at once. Do you understand me?”
His wife lifted her tear-streaked face, nodding frantically. “Yes, Cedric. I’ll bring her home.”
But even as she spoke, Cedric turned away, his expression carved with iron resolve.
If Samantha truly thought she could outwit a Luna and steal what was not hers, then she was walking into fire. And if she burned, neither mother’s tears nor father’s threats would be enough to save her.
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Late that night, after Cedric had retired to bed with his anger still simmering, Samantha’s mother sat alone at the desk in their chamber. A single candle flickered, throwing shadows across the parchment before her trembling hand.
Her fingers hesitated over the quill. How could she put into words what Cedric had uncovered? If he discovered she had not acted quickly, Samantha’s life could very well be over—by Damian’s hand, or worse, by her father’s wrath.
Finally, she dipped the quill into the ink and began to write, her script hurried, her strokes uneven.
> My dearest Samantha,
I write to you with a heavy heart. Tonight your father returned from Eastwood and discovered the truth of your whereabouts. He knows you are not at my cousin’s home. He confronted me with fury and threatened to bring your secret before Alpha Damian himself.
I begged him not to, for I know such a revelation would cost you your life. I convinced him to wait, but he has sworn that if you do not return soon, he will take action with his own hands.
My child, if you cannot succeed in the plan we agreed upon, I urge you to return home at once. It is better to be here, alive and under our protection, than to risk everything in that pack where danger surrounds you. I fear the Rina will not remain blind to you much longer, and if Theo turns to speak to alpha Damian against you, all will be lost.
Do not let your pride or ambition be the end of you. Remember, you are our only child, and I cannot bear to lose you. Be wise, Samantha. Choose survival over ruin.
—Your mother.
When the ink dried, she folded the parchment with shaking hands, slipping it into a small envelope. She pressed her lips to it as if sealing a prayer, then handed it off the next morning to a trusted messenger traveling toward Dam-Nighade territory.
As the rider disappeared into the misty horizon, Samantha’s mother whispered softly to herself, “Please, my daughter… do not make me bury you.”