The gates of SilverClaw Pack loomed ahead, tall and cold as the whispers that would follow her steps. Ariana stood still just outside the border, her fingers tightening around the tattered strap of her bag. She felt like a child again trembling before the place that once called her kin.
She hadn't stepped foot here in five years.
Five years since her father's name was blackened. Five years since she was ripped from the halls where she once danced in moonlight. Five years since Michael stopped looking at her like she mattered.
Now, she was nothing.
The guards said nothing as they opened the gates. They didn't have to. Their silence said everything.
Ariana kept her head down as she walked past the outer buildings of the SilverClaw estate. Nothing had changed. Same white marble walls. Same towering pine trees. Same biting wind that swept through like it owned the place.
Only difference was her.
She used to belong here. Now she was just tolerated.
Her mother had arranged it. A quiet return. No ceremony. No public acknowledgment. Just a silent agreement that the "traitor's daughter" could walk the grounds again… as long as she didn't cause trouble.
Ariana had no plans to cause trouble. But trouble had a way of finding her.
"Look who decided to crawl back."
The voice sliced through her like a cold blade.
She looked up.
Camilla.
Beta's daughter. Ariana's childhood best friend turned viper. Her gaze raked over Ariana's mud-stained boots like she was filth. Two other girls stood at her sides, both from Beta families. All of them wore the polished silver-and-white insignias of SilverClaw bloodline.
Ariana swallowed. "I'm not here to stay long."
Camilla smirked. "You won't have to. I give it a week before someone reports you. You're not exactly… welcome anymore."
Ariana didn't flinch. She simply nodded and walked past, though her heart beat so hard she felt it in her ears.
She was escorted to her old quarters in the servant's wing. It wasn't where she used to sleep as a child of honor, this place was narrow and cold, the walls cracked with damp, the air heavy with dust.
No one had used this room in years.
Maybe that's why they gave it to her.
That night, Ariana sat cross-legged on the small bed, staring out the window toward the Alpha mansion. Light flickered behind the tall glass, probably the council in session. Or worse a celebration she hadn't been invited to.
She hadn't seen him yet.
Michael.
The name still sent a jolt down her spine.
He would've grown taller. Stronger. More ruthless. He was two years older than her, and even at fifteen he'd carried himself like a king. Broad shoulders, black curls that never stayed in place, a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue.
Back then, he used to sneak her pastries from the palace kitchen and cover for her when she missed etiquette class. He'd called her "Starling." Said her eyes looked like starlight just before dawn.
Now?
Now, she didn't know what he'd call her.
Probably "traitor's girl." Or worse nothing at all.
The next day, she was summoned to meet the council.
Not the full council, just two guards, a Beta named Roth, and… Michael's mother.
Lady Cerys.
She still looked regal, her salt-streaked hair twisted into a braided crown. Her sharp eyes scanned Ariana like she was studying a fly on her favorite gown.
"I see you've returned," Cerys said coolly. "Your mother's decision, I assume."
"Yes, my lady."
"She always had a soft spot for broken things."
Ariana said nothing.
Roth stepped forward. "You will be expected to stay within the east sector. Servant quarters, kitchens, and the training fields. You are not permitted in the palace unless summoned. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Any contact with the Alpha prince must be formal and necessary. You may not approach him unless addressed first."
Her stomach twisted.
They knew. They knew the bond lingered.
"Understood."
"Good." Cerys turned, her silver cloak swirling behind her. "The pack gave your mother enough grace by letting you through the gates. Don't make them regret it."
The days that followed were a haze,She was the ghost in the room. The shadow everyone avoided.
It was almost peaceful.
Until she saw him.
It was by accident.
And she was heading toward the kitchen when she turned a corner and slammed straight into a chest of solid muscle.
The scent hit her first.
Cedar and wild wind.
Then her eyes rose and met his.
Michael.
His expression didn't shift. His golden eyes stared through her like she wasn't real. The years had carved even more strength into his frame, taller now, broader, his face harder than she remembered.
He looked down at her like she was nothing.
"Watch where you're going," he said.
Her heart cracked not because of the words, but the tone.
Like she was a stranger.
"Sorry," she whispered, stepping back.
He didn't respond.
He simply walked past her, his long black coat brushing her arm like winter wind.
She told herself it didn't matter.
That he was no longer the boy who held her hand in secret. That he was no longer the one who promised he'd protect her forever, no matter what their parents said.
He had chosen loyalty to his name.
And she had no name anymore.
Still… why had his eyes lingered?
That night, Ariana sat by the cracked window again, staring at the full moon. Somewhere in the palace, music played faintly a celebration. Probably for his upcoming coronation.
Soon, Michael would be King of SilverClaw.
And she would still be the daughter of the fallen Alpha
Two wolves bound by fate and torn apart by blood.
But the moon didn't care for politics.
It only knew what was written in the stars.
And deep in her chest, her wolf stirred for the first time in years.
Yearning. Watching. Waiting.