Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
I couldn’t sleep. Not with everything spiraling so fast around me. The bed Trent offered—his bed—was big and soft and smelled like him: pinewood, a touch of musk, something uniquely Alpha. But no matter how many times I buried my face in the pillow, hoping to drown in the scent and forget my racing mind, the memories kept flooding in.
The look on Liam’s face when I rejected him. The warmth in Trent’s voice when he called me his.
I got up quietly. The moonlight spilled across the hardwood floor like silver paint, and I tiptoed toward the door, careful not to wake anyone. I needed air. Or peace. Or maybe just something to keep me from losing myself to the noise in my head.
The hallways were quieter at night. A few warriors padded past me, nodding respectfully. Some glanced at me curiously—there was no hiding the whispers that had begun to spread like wildfire through the pack. The girl from the forest. The broken mate. The second chance.
I didn’t care.
Not tonight.
I moved down the staircase, turning right toward the pack library. It was one of the places I’d found solace in during the day. A quiet room filled with ancient tomes, a fireplace, and that intoxicating scent of old paper. I didn’t expect anyone to be there.
But as I neared the corridor, hushed voices caught my attention.
I paused.
“…doesn’t belong here. She’s weak.”
Myra.
“She’s not even a proper Luna. Have you seen her scars? I’d be ashamed to walk beside an Alpha looking like that.”
Kiara.
I pressed my back against the wall, heart racing.
Myra snorted. “Trent’s only doing this out of guilt. She was a prisoner. Of course, he’d take her in—he’s noble like that. But Luna? No. She doesn’t deserve that title.”
“I’ve spent years by his side,” Kiara whispered bitterly. “And now she just waltzes in and he’s parading her like she’s royalty. If she thinks she can take what should’ve been mine…”
“She won’t last long,” Myra said darkly. “She doesn’t even have her wolf yet. One wrong move, and she’ll break.”
Kiara's voice dropped into a venomous whisper. “She’ll never be Luna. Not while I’m breathing.”
My breath caught in my throat.
I stepped away silently, forcing myself not to make a sound. I didn’t know what shocked me more—the hatred or how easily they spoke of my downfall.
When I reached the upper floor again, I didn’t go back to Trent’s room. I stood at the balcony, gripping the railing until my knuckles turned white.
I didn’t cry.
Not this time.
I’d cried enough tears for a lifetime.
Instead, I inhaled the crisp night air and let the anger simmer beneath my skin.
I’d been through hell. I’d clawed my way back from chains and cages. And now I was here.
Let them talk. Let them plot.
If they thought I’d bow or run, they didn’t know me at all.
A sudden scent hit me—smoke.
I turned.
It was faint at first, but then stronger. Burning.
I hurried downstairs, footsteps light but fast. The scent led me toward the west wing.
And then I saw it. A thin trail of smoke curling beneath the kitchen door.
“Fire!” I screamed. “Fire!”
The manor exploded into action. Warriors shifted into wolves, others grabbed extinguishers. Amelia was already sprinting down the hall, shouting orders.
Trent burst into the hallway, eyes wild, shirtless, muscles tense.
“Eva!” he called.
“I’m okay!” I yelled back.
He reached me, hands gripping my arms, eyes scanning every inch of me like he expected me to vanish. “You sure?”
I nodded, chest heaving. “It’s in the kitchen.”
Kyle and others were already battling the flames, but something felt… off. The fire hadn’t started naturally. It wasn’t from the stove or an accident. It had been deliberate.
Someone had done this.
And that meant one thing.
This wasn’t just an act of hatred. It was a warning.
\---
Hours later, after the fire had been extinguished, the kitchen left in ruins and half the west wing covered in smoke, Trent sat beside me on the edge of his bed.
His jaw was tight. Fury simmered beneath his calm exterior. I knew him well enough to see it in the way his fingers tapped his knee.
“Do you think it was them?” I asked quietly.
“Myra and Kiara?”
He didn’t answer.
“Trent.”
He looked at me then, and the protective heat in his eyes nearly melted the last bit of fear inside me.
“I don’t want to believe it,” he said. “But I also know jealousy makes people reckless.”
“I overheard them earlier,” I whispered.
His brows furrowed.
“They don’t want me here. Kiara said I’ll never be Luna.”
Trent stood abruptly, pacing. “I’ll banish them both—”
“No.” I stood, too. “If you do, it’ll prove them right. That I’m weak. That I need you to fight my battles.”
His shoulders tensed. “You don’t. But I want to protect you.”
“I know.” I reached for his hand. “But let me stand on my own.”
He stared at me, then nodded slowly. “Alright. But you’re not alone. Not anymore.”
We stood in silence for a moment, and I found comfort in his nearness.
But even with Trent beside me, a knot of unease settled in my stomach.
Someone wanted me gone.
And they’d stop at nothing.
Not even fire.
\---
Later that night, I stood at the mirror brushing my hair, when a soft knock sounded at the door.
Amelia peeked in.
“You decent?”
I smiled faintly. “Mostly.”
She stepped in, holding a bundle of herbs and something steaming in a cup. “Sleep tea,” she said. “I figured you’d need it.”
I took it gratefully.
“You saved the manor tonight,” she said. “I heard you were the first to spot the fire.”
“Just dumb luck.”
“No,” she said, sitting beside me. “It’s instinct. Luna instinct.”
I looked away. “I’m not sure I deserve that title.”
She raised a brow. “Eva, you walked through fire. You’ve survived more than most wolves ever do. And tonight? You kept this pack from burning.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, but I didn’t wipe it away.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
As she left, I looked at the steaming tea, then at the moonlight streaming through the window.
I could still hear Kiara’s voice.
“She’ll never be Luna.”
And I knew something else now.
This wasn’t the end of their games.
It was only the beginning.
Cliffhanger: Outside the pack walls, a shadowy figure kneels