Chapter 23 Silenced
Wynter's POV
"Then we deal with it." He stopped, turning to face me. "Wynter, whatever happens up there, remember—you're not the same person Anne attacked months ago. You're stronger now."
"Is that good?" The question slipped out. "Becoming harder?"
Chase was quiet for a moment. Then: "It's necessary. But don't let it make you cruel. There's a difference between being strong and being Anne."
He's right, my wolf said. We're not like her. We protect, we don't destroy.
But we will destroy her, I thought back. If we have to.
Yes, my wolf agreed. But only because we must.
We reached the base of the tower. The door hung slightly ajar, creaking in the wind.
"Last chance to back out," Chase said.
"Not a chance."
We climbed the spiral stairs—thirty-two steps to the first landing, thirty-two more to the second.
At the top, the observatory opened before us. Moonlight streamed through broken windows, creating pools of silver light.
And in the center, huddled against the cold, was Vivian Pierce.
She looked up as we entered, terror in her eyes. She tried to speak, her mouth opening, lips forming words—but no sound came out.
Nothing. Not even a whisper.
Her hand flew to her throat, panic flooding her face as she tried again. Her lips moved frantically, desperately, but the only thing that emerged was a choked, strangled gasp that wasn't quite sound.
"Vivian?" Chase stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of me—a protective gesture that made Jax's shoulders tense from where he'd been waiting in the shadows. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head violently, tears already streaming down her cheeks as she fumbled in her coat pocket. Her hands were shaking so badly she dropped the first paper, had to bend down and retrieve it with trembling fingers before finally managing to thrust it at Chase.
He took it, and even from where I stood, I could see the words written in blood-red ink:
Those who speak out of turn lose their tongues.
A chill ran down my spine. But before I could process what that meant, Vivian was already pulling out another paper—this one covered in hasty, desperate handwriting that looked like it had been scrawled in the dark.
Chase read it aloud, his voice growing colder with each word: "Found this note on my bed this morning. Thought it was just a threat. Went to classes anyway—felt like someone was watching me all day. Couldn't find a moment alone to run. Had dinner in the dining hall. Drank water. Throat started burning. Got back to my room and tried to call for help. Nothing came out. Can't scream. Can't speak. Waited until everyone was asleep to sneak out. Please help me."
"She can't speak," I said, understanding clicking into place with sickening clarity as I stepped out from behind Chase deliberately. "Anne knew Vivian was going to come to us. She didn't just threaten her—she made sure even if Vivian tried to testify, she wouldn't be able to."
"Clever," Jax said quietly, something dangerous in his tone as he emerged from the shadows. "And thorough. This isn't just about silencing a witness—it's a message. To everyone who might think about crossing Anne."
Vivian's silent sobs grew more violent, her whole body shaking as she gestured frantically at her throat, at the papers, at us—desperate, pleading gestures that spoke louder than any words could have.
I watched her collapse against the doorframe, and despite everything she'd done to me, I felt a stab of pity. Because this was the same tactic Anne had used on me. Destroy what makes someone powerful. Take away their voice, their Mark, their ability to fight back.
Make them helpless.
My wolf snarled. No more. We protect the weak now. Even when they don't deserve it.
"Vivian." I knelt in front of her, aware of both Chase and Jax hovering behind me. "Look at me."
She raised her tear-stained face, eyes red and swollen with terror and guilt and desperate hope.
"I know you helped them hurt me," I said quietly but firmly. "I know you held me down while Marcus destroyed my Mark. And I will never forgive you for that."
She flinched, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as she tried to form words—I'm sorry, I'm sorry—but only her lips moved, no sound accompanying the apology.
"But," I continued, my voice softening slightly, "I also know what it's like to be Anne's victim. To be terrified of her. So I'm going to help you—not because you deserve it, but because nobody deserves this."
I stood, looking at Chase. "Take her to Dr. Reeves. Get her healed. And when she can speak again—" I turned back to Vivian, making sure she understood, "—you're going to tell the Council everything. Every detail. Every order Anne gave. Understood?"
Vivian nodded frantically, hope and terror mixing in her expression as she clutched at my hand, squeezing it in silent gratitude.
"Jax, Wynter—escort her to the medical wing," Chase said, his tone brooking no argument.
Jax's eyes narrowed. "And where will you be?"
"Making a call," Chase replied coolly. "Unless you'd like to question my every move?"
"I'm not questioning," Jax cut in, his voice steady but tense. "I'm making sure Wynter stays safe. Because the last time she trusted someone from a powerful family to 'handle things,' she ended up with a destroyed Mark and no one to defend her."
The accusation hung in the air like a physical blow. Chase's face went white, then red, his wolf surging so close to the surface I could see gold bleeding into his eyes.
"That's not fair," I said quietly. "Chase didn't know what Anne was planning. None of us did."
"Didn't he?" Jax's gaze stayed locked on Chase. "Everyone knew Anne was obsessed with him. Everyone knew she hated any girl who got close."
"Enough." My voice came out sharp enough to make both males flinch. "This isn't helping. Vivian needs medical attention. Chase needs to make his call. And I need both of you to stop treating me like I'm some helpless damsel who can't make her own decisions."
Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable.
"I know you're trying to protect me," I continued. "Both of you are. But right now, I need you to work together. Can you do that? For me?"
Jax exhaled slowly and nodded. "For you. Always."
Chase's expression was harder to read, a mix of frustration and guilt and something that might have been jealousy. "I'll meet you at the medical wing in twenty minutes. And Wynter—" he caught my arm as I helped Vivian to her feet, his touch sending the familiar electric jolt of the Mate Bond through my skin, "—stay with Jax. Don't go anywhere alone."
"I won't," I promised, trying not to notice the way Jax stiffened at Chase's proprietary tone.
As we helped Vivian toward the stairs, I caught Chase's arm one more time. "Who are you calling?"
His expression was cold, determined, and underneath it all, terrified in a way that made my chest ache. "My father. It's time to end this."