Darrian's POV
The trees faded into mist again, and I followed the echo of her scream into the next layer of the veil.
The Veil of Pain.
I knew it before the shadows whispered it. Before the air turned sharp and cold, like breathing in shards of glass. This place didn't just want me to see pain—it wanted me to feel it.
Not mine.
Hers.
The first memory struck like a blade through my chest.
Heather—barely thirteen—curled in the corner of a cold, damp room. Her arm twisted unnaturally. Blood on her temple. Her breaths shallow.
Marcus stood above her, bloodied knuckles flexing, eyes filled with nothing but dominance and disdain.
"Get up," he growled.
She tried.
Tried so hard.
But her legs gave out and she crumpled, whispering, "I'm sorry."
That single word shattered something inside me.
She had apologized to the monster who had done this to her.
I lunged at Marcus with a snarl, my wolf barely restrained—but again, I passed through them like fog. I couldn't touch him. Couldn't tear his throat out like I wanted to.
Heather's sobs filled the air, piercing and raw.
I couldn't bear it.
I tried to turn away.
But the veil wouldn't let me.
"Feel it," it whispered. "All of it."
Another memory surged forward.
Heather, tied to a post in the training yard. Rain lashed down, soaking her thin shirt as the other wolves circled, watching.
Marcus stood to the side, arms crossed.
"She defied an order," he said coldly. "Remind her of her place."
They hit her. Over and over.
Even the younger wolves. Some hesitated. Others didn't.
She didn't cry out.
She stood there, shaking, enduring it all without a sound.
But her eyes…
Her eyes looked far away, like she was already gone.
I fell to my knees, clutching my chest as pain radiated from the bond.
Even now—even dead—the mate bond still echoed her suffering.
And the veil made sure I felt it like it was happening now.
I tried to breathe.
I couldn't.
Another memory.
Heather's first heat.
Alone. Locked in a cold basement, her wolf caged by silver, her body shaking with pain. No one came. No one helped.
Her screams echoed down the stone walls.
And I just stood there, helpless. A ghost. A coward.
Tears stung my eyes, rage clawing up my throat.
"Enough!" I roared. "She's suffered enough!"
But the veil wasn't done.
"You must see the worst," the voice came again. "The moment she gave up on the world."
The mist thickened. The shadows coiled.
And then—
Heather at seventeen.
Crawling out of the woods, bloodied and broken, after her latest escape attempt. She didn't even make it a mile before Marcus's enforcers caught her. She was dragged back, unconscious.
Marcus stood over her, shaking his head like she had disappointed him.
"You'll never escape me," he said, pressing a boot to her back. "No one will ever want you, Heather. Not broken. Not weak. Not after what I've done to you."
The scene froze.
And I heard her wolf cry.
A silent, soul-deep sob that reverberated through the veil.
That was the moment.
The moment her wolf went still.
And Heather stopped trying.
I staggered forward, reaching for her face, trying to wipe the blood from her cheek even if my hand passed through.
"I wanted you," I whispered. "I want you still. Even broken. Even scarred. I want all of you."
The veil pulsed.
A heartbeat.
A crack in the darkness.
The memory shattered like glass—and I collapsed to the ground, drenched in sweat, gasping for air.
Silence.
Then the whisper returned.
"You have seen her pain. You have felt it. Do you still claim her?"
I stood slowly, chest heaving. My fists clenched at my sides.
"I do."
"Even now, knowing her soul is fractured, her body failing?"
"I will still bring her back."
"Even if it kills you?"
I didn't blink.
"Yes."
A door formed ahead, carved from bone and flame.
The voice faded into the wind.
And the veil parted.
I walked through, my heart still burning with every scream I had heard—but stronger than the pain was my purpose.
I would not fail her again.
The veil thinned, no longer shadow and pain—but fog kissed with golden light. My boots crunched on soft, dewy grass as the forest opened into a clearing too serene to belong to the world I'd just passed through.
Silence.
Then… the scent of lilac.
Familiar.
Soft.
A breeze stirred the tall grass.
And there she stood.
A woman cloaked in white, long brown curls cascading over her shoulders, her posture regal, but her eyes—those piercing violet eyes, so much like Heather's—filled with sorrow and strength.
"Heather's mother," I breathed.
She turned fully to face me, hands clasped in front of her. "Darrian."
Her voice was calm. Gentle. But it carried an ancient weight.
"I didn't expect—" I faltered, swallowing the ache still caught in my throat.
"To meet the mother of the woman you failed?" she asked, not unkindly.
I winced.
She stepped closer, the grass parting around her like it bowed in her presence. "You carry shame. As you should. But you also carry hope. I see it."
"I'm here to bring her back," I said, my voice steadier this time.
"Are you?" She tilted her head. "Or are you here to escape the guilt that haunts you? You rejected her soul. Denied her strength. You called her weak in your thoughts even when your bond screamed the truth."
I flinched.
"I didn't know," I murmured.
"You didn't see her. You refused to."
"She was broken," I said. "I thought she couldn't lead beside me. Couldn't rule."
"She was never broken." Her voice sharpened. "She was healing."
I closed my eyes, pain pressing against my ribs like iron bands. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry won't bring her back."
"But I will," I said. "I'll go through every veil. Every torment. I've seen her pain, felt it crush me, and I'd do it again. She is my mate."
The woman studied me quietly for a long moment. Then she knelt beside a small pond in the clearing and touched its surface. Ripples spread, revealing Heather's still body, pale and unmoving on the altar of flowers.
"She walks the final threshold," she said. "The place between spirit and oblivion. You do not have much time."
"Then guide me."
Heather's mother rose, placing a hand on my chest.
"You must enter the final veil," she said. "The Veil of Truth. There, you will not see her memories. You will see your own. The worst of them. Your failures. Your rage. Your fear. And at the center… the truth you've hidden from yourself."
My breath caught. "And if I pass?"
"You will find her."
"And if I fail?"
"She will fade, and your soul will remain shattered… until your death."
I nodded. "Then show me the way."
She smiled, and it wasn't sad this time. It was proud. "Then may the goddess walk with you, Alpha."
The clearing shimmered.
And the final veil opened before me.