The rain had turned to mist, curling through the trees like smoke as Amelia stood in the ruins of everything she thought she knew. The words still echoed, sharp as a blade.
You’re not his sister. You never were.
The truth was poison in her veins. Lucien hadn’t lied out of protection. He hadn’t even lied at all—because he didn’t know. No one had. Not until the old seer with her bloodless eyes whispered it from the shadows: You are not of this pack. Not by birth. You were brought here. Hidden. Branded with another’s blood.
Amelia staggered back from the crumbling steps of the seer’s den, breath hitching. Her heart pounded like a war drum as the memory returned—flashes of fire, screaming, a woman’s hand pushing her into a darkened cart, a whispered promise in a voice she couldn’t name.
“Y
