Chapter 1I was halfway up the stone steps to Draven's lodge.
Ready to force him into the Mating Ceremony once and for all.
That's when a woman appeared out of nowhere and blocked my path.
She looked like death warmed over—hollow cheeks, gray-streaked hair, and deep scars carved into her wrists like she'd been chained in silver for years.
"Don't go in there," she said, her voice shaking. "Veyra, whatever you do tonight, don't make a scene."
I froze.
The face staring back at me—
It was MINE.
Twenty years older. Completely wrecked.
But mine.
---
She grabbed my hand, tears already streaming down her face.
"The second you walk in there and start a fight with Liora, she's going to run straight to Sorrowspan Bridge and fake a jump. She'll leave a letter blaming you for it, saying you drove her to suicide."
"After that, you're done. They'll lock you up in silver for decades. You won't find out until you're dying that she never jumped—it was all staged so she could run off with her bastard kid."
"A year later, she comes back like nothing happened, and she and Draven live happily ever after while you rot in chains."
I should've turned around right then.
But I didn't.
I kept walking up those steps.
The ghost—my future self—started panicking, practically begging now.
"Don't do it! Don't give her a reason!"
When I knocked and the door swung open, Liora was already curled up in Draven's arms, sobbing about some nightmare she supposedly had.
Draven barely looked at me.
"What are you doing here?"
I ignored the ghost screaming beside me and held up my phone with the Pack's blood debt ledger pulled up on the screen.
"I'm here to collect my ten Frostfire Shards."
Draven went completely still, his arms locked around Liora as he stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
I tapped the screen. "You paying now, or should I take this to the Frostborn Council?"
His jaw tightened. "Veyra, what the hell is this?"
Liora stiffened beside him.
She clearly wasn't expecting me to show up demanding payment instead of throwing a fit.
I smiled, just a little.
"You said it yourself, didn't you? Every time you bail on the Binding, you owe me one Shard. This is the tenth time. That's ten Shards. An Alpha like you wouldn't go back on a blood debt, would he?"
Draven's eyes narrowed. "You came all the way out here just for Shards?"
"Why else?" I shot back. "You think I wanted to watch you two snuggle?"
Liora's face went white, tears pooling in her eyes.
"Veyra, you've got it all wrong. I just had a really bad nightmare, so Draven came to help me calm down."
I'd been hearing that same excuse for three straight years.
Nightmares. Panic attacks. Random wolf sightings.
Didn't matter how ridiculous it sounded—Draven would drop everything for Liora.
Tonight was no different.
We were supposed to meet at the sacred grove at moonrise for the mating ceremony.
I got there early and waited. Watched the moon climb higher and higher while I stood there like an idiot.
Five hours. He never showed.
All I got was a text.
[Liora had a nightmare and she's not stable. Staying with her tonight. We'll do the Binding another time.]
If this had been the old me, I would've lost it.
I would've stormed over here screaming, demanding to know why I was always the one getting ditched.
But after seeing what I'd become twenty years from now, something just... clicked.
What was the point of fighting for a man who'd always pick someone else over me?
It'd be a waste of my entire life.
Draven must've noticed I wasn't saying anything, because his expression got even colder.
He reached into his coat, pulled out a small velvet pouch, and threw it at my feet. Ten glowing blue Shards spilled across the floor. "There's your blood debt. Take it and get out."
The pouch hit my cheek before it fell, leaving a sharp sting behind.
But I didn't even flinch. Just bent down, scooped up the Shards, and turned to leave.
Before I could take two steps, Draven let out this short, bitter laugh.
"So the mask finally comes off, huh? All that talk about wanting the bond, not the power—turns out it was bullshit. You were after Frostveil's resources this whole time."
I didn't stop walking, even though my chest felt like something heavy was crushing it from the inside.
For years, I'd busted my ass trying to prove I wasn't some gold-digger. I refused everything from the Pack—food, protection, you name it. Worked three jobs in the human townships just to survive on my own. Tutored kids, waited tables, scrubbed floors at the healing hall after hours. There were weeks I couldn't even afford meat.
Draven knew all of that. And he still thought I was some scheming outsider trying to steal his birthright.
I didn't bother defending myself. Just tossed back a casual reply without looking at him.
"If that's what you think, then sure."
The night air hit me the second I stepped outside.
The ghost beside me finally seemed to snap out of it.
She looked at me, tears welling up in her faded eyes. "Have you... finally figured it out?"
I stopped walking. Stared at this ruined version of myself—the version I was supposed to become—and felt my own tears start to fall.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I've figured it out. This time, I'm getting us out."
Chapter 2
The second I got back to my cabin, I pulled out my old travel pack and started filling it.
I was heading to the Riftlands—over a thousand miles south, past Pack territory, into the neutral zone where humans and wolves lived side by side without all the hierarchy bullshit.
I'd leave in five days.
After I finished packing, I took a long shower, crawled into bed, and turned off the lights.
For the first time in five years, I didn't lie awake all night thinking about Draven Ironthorn.
But the next morning, before I was even fully awake, my front door slammed open so hard it nearly flew off the hinges.
I threw on a sweater and stumbled into the main room to find Draven standing there with Liora right behind him.
The second his eyes landed on me, his face went completely blank—like he was talking to hired help.
"Liora wants that moonroot stew you make. Go cook it."
I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but the ghost beside me flinched so hard she looked like she might shatter.
"Don't fight him," she whispered, shaking. "Just do what he says..."
I looked at her—at the scars, the fear still carved into her after twenty years—and something softened in me.
Then I looked back up at Draven. "No."
He didn't yell. Didn't even blink.
Just said two words. "Five Shards."
I froze.
And then it hit me.
Liora didn't actually want any damn stew.
Draven was still pissed about me taking the blood debt last night, and this was his petty way of rubbing it in—making me cook for his side piece while he threw money at me like I was some servant.
"Deal," I said flatly.
The second my phone buzzed with the transfer notification, I turned and walked straight into the kitchen.
Half an hour later, I came back out carrying a bowl of steaming moonroot stew.
Draven's face looked even worse than when he'd first barged in.
Before I could set the bowl down, his hand shot out.
He knocked it clean out of my grip.
The bowl shattered on the floor, and boiling liquid splashed all over my forearm.
My skin turned bright red instantly, and the pain made my fingers shake.
"Veyra, do you have any shame left?" he snarled.
I saw his expression flicker for half a second when he noticed the burn. He even stood up like he was going to do something.
But I cut him off before he could say a word. "Healing costs. Ten Shards."
The room went dead silent.
Whatever guilt had been in his eyes vanished like smoke.
He sat right back down on the couch, staring at me like I was something he'd scraped off his boot.
"You really are pathetic, aren't you? Selling your dignity for a handful of Shards."
I bit down on the pain and smiled. "Yeah, I am. So pay up, Ironthorn."
The second my phone buzzed again, I walked over to the sink and ran cold water over the burn.
The ghost floated beside me, crying so hard her whole body was shaking. "Veyra, you need to see a healer. Please, go to the healing hall right now..."
I didn't answer. Just grabbed my coat and walked out the door.
By the time the healer finished wrapping my arm, two hours had passed.
But the moment I stepped outside, I knew something was wrong.
People kept staring at me.
Some whispered in little groups. Others straight-up pulled out their phones to take pictures.
I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid.
Then my phone lit up with a notification.
[Northern Territories' Most Devoted Mate Exposed! Demands Ten Shards in Late-Night Standoff, Cooks for Alpha's Mistress for Pocket Change]
My hand shook as I opened the article.
There were two photos.
One from last night—me bent over, picking up the Shards Draven had thrown at my feet. The angle made it look like I was groveling.
The other from this morning—me walking out of the kitchen with the bowl of stew in my hands.
The comments were already brutal.
[I thought she wanted the bond, not the power?]
[Lmao guess the price just wasn't high enough before.]
[Cooking for the side chick? That's just sad.]
I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles went white.
There was only one person who could've taken those photos.
Draven.
Sure enough, my phone started ringing a second later.
I answered.
Before I could say anything, I heard his voice—low, mocking. "Did you see the post?"
I didn't respond.
His tone got colder. "What's wrong? Too embarrassed to talk now?"
"Not at all," I said, leaning back against the stone wall of the healing hall. I even laughed a little.
"Everything in that post is true. I took the Shards. I made the stew."
"What's the problem?"
Chapter 3
The second the words left my mouth, Draven's breathing turned harsh and ragged over the line. Without another word, he hung up.
A few seconds later, my phone lit up with a text.
[Come to the Pack gathering tonight. Five Shards.]
The ghost floated beside me, her face tight with panic. "Don't go. Veyra, it'll only bring you more pain."
I knew what this was.
Ever since Liora became Draven's "advisor" three years ago, there'd been no place for me at Pack events.
Him dragging me out tonight was just another way to humiliate me in front of everyone.
But I was leaving in five days. Five Shards would help me get settled in the Riftlands.
I tapped the screen and accepted the transfer.
[Fine.]
That evening, I showed up at the Frostveil lodge right on time.
The second I walked into the main hall, I spotted Draven—with Liora practically glued to his side.
He was wearing a dark gray cloak lined with silver trim.
Liora's dress was the exact same shade of gray, with matching silver embroidery along the hem.
They stood close, shoulders almost touching. To anyone watching, they looked like a perfectly matched pair.
Meanwhile, I was standing there in a plain white tunic, looking like I'd wandered into the wrong gathering.
The crowd's eyes shifted toward me, and the whispers started immediately.
"How does she still have the nerve to show her face here?"
"Talk about shameless. The Alpha's wearing matching colors with his advisor, and she still drags herself over here begging for scraps."
"Some people will do anything for a few Shards."
Laughter rippled through the hall.
The ghost beside me started crying silently. "Everyone knows he doesn't want you anymore. Why do you keep coming back just to take this kind of abuse...?"
I didn't answer. I just looked at Draven across the room, and my mind drifted back to a gathering years ago.
Someone, drunk off their ass, had made a crude joke about whether I was sleeping with Draven to stay in the Pack.
Before the guy could even finish his sentence, Draven grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the wall so hard it cracked.
After that night, everyone in the northern territories knew Draven Ironthorn was fiercely protective of me.
If anyone so much as looked at me wrong, he'd make them regret it.
But now? He stood a few yards away, listening to the insults with a blank expression. Didn't even blink.
The ghost's voice trembled. "Is it worth it?"
I pulled up the transfer notification on my phone and showed her. "Five Shards. Yeah, it's worth it. That's enough to rent a decent place by the river in the Riftlands. Maybe one with big windows so I can watch the water every morning..."
I must've gotten too lost in my own thoughts, because I didn't notice Draven staring at me from across the room—or the way his expression was getting darker by the second.
I was still mentally planning out my new life when Draven suddenly grabbed the ceremonial horn from the elder's hand and blew it to get everyone's attention.
"Since everyone's here tonight, I've got an announcement." His voice echoed through the hall. "In two weeks, Liora and I are holding a mating ceremony."
My stomach dropped.
Draven's gaze cut through the crowd and locked onto my face. There was something twisted in his eyes—like he was enjoying this.
"Veyra," he said slowly, deliberately. "I'll still complete the blood bond with you. But the ceremony? That's going to Liora. You don't mind, do you?"
That ceremony was something I'd been waiting for for five years.
I'd planned every single detail—the decorations, the offerings, the vows, even the damn flower arrangements. I'd spent a year making sure it was perfect.
And now he was just handing it over to someone else like it meant nothing.
A wave of bitterness shot up my throat, and I almost screamed at him right there.
But out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ghost clutching her own arms, her scarred face white with terror.
I took a deep breath and shoved the anger back down.
"I don't mind," I said, keeping my voice steady. "But considering I personally planned every single part of that ceremony, I think it's fair to charge a consulting fee. Don't you?"
The quiet snickers around the hall turned into full-blown laughter.
Draven's face went dark as a storm cloud. After a long, tense pause, he bit out a single word through clenched teeth. "Fine."
As the gathering started winding down, Liora suddenly walked toward me. I braced myself, thinking she was going to rub it in.
But she didn't say anything.
She just stared at me for a few seconds with bloodshot eyes, then turned and bolted out of the hall.
A bad feeling crept over me.
But I was so exhausted I just brushed it off and headed home.
I don't know how much time passed before my bedroom door slammed open.
Before I could react, rough hands yanked me out of bed.
