A THRONE OF ASH AND VOWS

The point of view of ANASTASIA is  For hours, the rain had been unrelenting, covering the ground and turning the sanctified Volkov Pack territory into a muddy quagmire. Lightning tore across the night sky, lighting hundreds of faces as they watched me kneel in shame. Under cloaks and coats, they gathered closely, mumbling among themselves with eyes full of either pity or contempt. I shuddered, but not because of the cold. That came from the intolerable weight of what was unfolding. I would vanish tonight from everything. Mikhailov's once-proud name was now a curse. Deprived of her birthright, the daughter of a fallen Alpha found herself abandoned, yet not even the wolves desired me. "Anastasy Mikhailov." The Elder's voice reverberated across the clearing, his tone austere, as though he were merely rendering opinions on a criminal rather than assigning a pack member banishment. My nails went into the damp ground. I urged myself not to shake. "You have been found unworthy of your place among us," he went on, "weak". Unfit. This is a disgrace to your lineage. We hereby expel you from the Volkov pack. You no longer belong here. Among us, no more are you. The audience whispered and gasped. A few voices objected, but the weight of the Elder's decree soon muffled them. Every beat in my heart sent waves of ice coursing through my veins. I had known the hour was on approach. My father's collapse had already decided my fate. Still, nothing could have prepared me for this moment. Then the man who had promised to defend me and to treasure me stepped forward, Dmitri Volkov. Once full of warmth when he stared at me, his storm-grey eyes now lacked anything except icy apathy. His Alpha insignia shone against his chest as his black cloak billowed gently in the breeze. a Leader. A warrior. I look forward to being your future partner. I have found my implementer. "I, Dmitry Volkov, Alpha of the Volkov Pack, reject you as a mate." His words pierced me more accurately than any blade. They tore me apart from the core. An invisible power tore at my soul, shattering our link. I gasped. suffering. The pain was unbroken and relentless. My eyesight became white, and my body shook fiercely. I could sense our relationship weakening, dragging bits of my spirit with it. The crowd's gasps vanished into a faint buzz. All of it faded into the background: the rain, the thunder, the rustling of the wind. My only sensation was suffering. The pain felt like claws tearing me apart from within my chest. To say anything at all, I gripped my throat and battled to breathe and talk. But the words would never come. Howling inside me, my wolf begged to hang onto what remained of the link. She was clawing. It was sliding, though, quicker than I could stop it. "Dmitry …" Raw and shattered, my voice was almost a whisper. Why? I did not ask it aloud. Already before me was the response. Beside him slept another woman, dressed in silk and furs. She was a truly magnificent woman. She is strong, royal, and unbroken by the tempest raging all around her. Sofiya Petrov He's chosen Luna. I understood. Deep down, I somehow already knew. The way she had been hovering about him for months. The council had approved of her behaviour. The way Dmitry had begun to distance himself from me, becoming colder and more remote. Still, understanding did not make the betrayal any more palatable. Her lips curved into a smile. Her fingers located Dmitry's hand and entwined with his seal what had already been determined long before tonight. Dmitry said at last, "You're making this task harder than it needs to be, Anastasia." His voice lacked feeling, as though he were not severing my soul in half. I pushed down the lump in my throat by swallowing hard. "Why?" At last, I was able to rasp. He exhaled and shook his head slightly. "Because this is for the good of the pack." The pack's good. The exact words my father had thought before they turned on him. I shook my head and laughed breathlessly. And just what am I, Dmitry? A threat? His quiet was just sufficient. I shouted as a sharp, searing agony abruptly erupted across my collarbone. The Elder moved forward, his palm shining with old magic. The Mark of Exile. Burning into my flesh, the burning heat carved itself deeply into my skin. a long-lasting reminder This is a warning to anyone who might dare to assist me. Not wanted. Undiscovered. inadequate. Though the suffering was intolerable, I tightened my teeth to keep myself straight. I wouldn't drop before them. I would not satisfy them in that sense. The Elder demanded, "Take her to the border." Hands gripped my arms, pulling me forward. I hardly sensed my legs; I barely registered the cold. The rain fell more fiercely, the evening swallowing me entirely. At the edge of the pack, the guards shoved me ahead. I staggered, just catching myself before I dropped to earth. Behind me, Dmitry's voice echoed out. Go. Do not come back. I turned slightly, just enough to meet his last look. And what I saw extinguished the last flutter of hope inside me. There was no uncertainty. Not regretful. Just finality. He had decided what to do. I thus produced mine. Turning, I headed away, each step weighing more than the next. Though my spirit cracked and my body hurt, I resisted breaking. Not yet. Not now. The forest opened out before me, unbounded and hostile. I did not have a house. Not allies. I was by myself. The last thread of my relationship to the pack snapped as soon as I crossed the line, a stinging agony. Then, blackness. My eyes swirling, I dropped to my knees. I could hardly keep my eyes open. Then, then This is not your terminal. Your start is here. Like something waiting for this time, the voice slithered deep and old in my head. My heart surged. That man was who? This was what? I attempted to raise my head, battling the tiredness slinking over me. But the night drew me down before I could.