Chapter 3
The moon hung like a silent witness as I guided my car through the winding roads leading to Silverfang territory. My headlights carved a narrow path through the darkness, much like the path I was now carving for my future—uncertain but necessary. Lyra stirred anxiously within me.
*Are you sure about this, Victoria?*
"We don't have a choice anymore," I whispered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "We can't keep living like this."
I'd waited until Marcus left for his nightly rendezvous with Sophia before slipping away. The irony wasn't lost on me—his betrayal had created the perfect opportunity for my escape.
As I approached the territorial border, two massive wolves emerged from the tree line, their eyes reflecting my headlights. I stopped the car and lowered my window, exposing my neck in a gesture of submission.
"I'm Dr. Victoria Hayes of the Moonveil Pack," I called out. "I have an appointment with Alpha Mitchell."
The wolves disappeared briefly, then returned in human form, now dressed in Silverfang guard uniforms.
"Follow us, Dr. Hayes," the taller one said, his tone respectful. "Alpha Mitchell is expecting you."
The Silverfang Pack House was nothing like ours—where Marcus preferred ostentatious displays of wealth, this building was elegant in its simplicity, prioritizing function over flash. I was led through corridors lined with strategic maps and pack history rather than the gaudy trophies Marcus collected.
Alpha James Mitchell waited in his office, standing as I entered rather than remaining seated to assert dominance as Marcus would have. He was taller than I expected, with intelligent eyes that seemed to assess me without judgment.
"Dr. Hayes," he said, extending his hand. "Your reputation precedes you."
"Thank you for seeing me, Alpha Mitchell," I replied, surprised by the firmness of his handshake. Marcus never touched me with such respect.
"Please, call me James," he said, gesturing to a chair. "I understand you're interested in our head healer position."
For the next hour, we discussed healing techniques, pack medicine, and my vision for a comprehensive healing program. Not once did he interrupt me or dismiss my ideas. Instead, he asked thoughtful questions and took notes.
"Your regenerative salve," he said, examining the sample I'd brought. "This is remarkable work. How long did it take you to perfect this?"
"Six months," I admitted. "Working nights mostly."
Something flickered in his eyes—recognition, perhaps, of the dedication such work required.
"Victoria," he said, setting down the salve, "I'll be direct. We need someone with your skills. I'm prepared to offer you full autonomy as head healer, with a dedicated budget and staff."
I blinked, unsure I'd heard correctly. "Full autonomy?"
"Your methods, your decisions," he confirmed. "I don't pretend to know more about healing than a healer."
The contrast to Marcus couldn't have been starker. For the first time in years, I felt seen—not as a convenient asset, but as a valued professional.
"I need time to consider," I said, though Lyra was already howling her approval inside me.
"Of course," James nodded. "This isn't a decision to make lightly."
As I drove back to Moonveil territory, my mind raced with possibilities. A new start. Respect. Purpose. Everything I'd been denied for eight long years.
It was nearly dawn when I reached the healing center, hoping to gather some personal research before Marcus awoke. I froze at the doorway, unable to process what I was seeing.
Sophia stood in the center of the room, draped in my mother's ceremonial healer's robe—a sacred garment passed down through generations of Hayes healers. The delicate silver embroidery caught the morning light as she twirled, admiring herself in the mirror.
"What are you doing?" My voice cut through the room like ice.
Sophia startled, then relaxed into a smirk when she saw me. "Oh, Victoria. Early morning, isn't it? I'm just practicing."
"Take it off," I demanded, stepping forward. "That robe belonged to my mother."
"Actually," Marcus's voice came from behind me, "all pack property belongs to the Alpha."
I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, watching us with cold amusement.
"That's not pack property," I said, my voice shaking. "It's my family inheritance."
"And now it's training materials for the future Luna of healing," Marcus replied dismissively. "Sophia needs to look the part when she takes over."
I stood there, watching as Sophia continued her mockery of sacred healing incantations, her fingers trailing carelessly over my mother's robe.
In that moment, something inside me hardened into resolve. James Mitchell's offer wasn't just an opportunity anymore.
It was salvation.
And Marcus had just sealed his fate without even knowing it.
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