Nyla's POV*
Isolation.
That's what it felt like—being watched like a criminal in a place that had begun to feel like home. I sat in the small chamber assigned to me under supervision. My heart hurt more than my pride. Damon didn't fully turn his back, but his silence echoed louder than any accusation.
I replayed every moment in my mind. Someone *wanted* me out of the way. And there was only one person who always smiled too perfectly, knew too much, and never missed an opportunity to hover when things went wrong—Miracle.
I had to prove it. Not just for myself… but for us.
*Marcus's POV*
Something was off.
The journal still bothered me—the ink was fresh, the phrasing not quite consistent with how Nyla spoke. My gut screamed setup, but I needed proof.
I followed my instincts and trailed Miracle after sunset. She was too calm. Too untouched by all this.
She met someone in the woods. A cloaked figure. I stayed hidden, but caught just enough of their words.
"She suspects nothing," Miracle whispered. "The alpha's still torn. Just a few more pushes, and she'll be gone."
My blood ran cold.
*Damon's POV*
Marcus burst into my quarters just after midnight, face pale, voice sharp.
"She's being framed. I heard Miracle. She's working with someone—maybe even rogues."
My pulse thundered.
Nyla.
I nearly lost her.
Guilt crushed my chest as I stormed to her chamber, dismissed the guards, and found her staring at the moonlight.
"You were right," I said quietly. "I never should've doubted you."
Her eyes filled with tears—but not of relief. Of pain.
And I knew then: earning her trust back would be harder than uncovering the traitor.
But I would do it.
Even if I had to burn the world to the ground.
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