CLAWS OF FATE

"Sera! Come see the butterfly cocoons!" I drop my handful of wildflowers and race toward Mama's voice, my bare feet slapping against the stone path. The garden smells like jasmine and wet earth, and I'm already planning to ask Papa if we can stay out here until the stars come— A scream tears through the air, and I freeze, petals scattered around my feet. Another scream pierced through the air, followed by shouting - so much shouting it sounds like the whole pack house is on fire. "Mama?" My voice comes out small. But she doesn’t answer. She's not by the butterfly bush anymore. The cocoons hang empty and forgotten as more screams pour from the windows above us. I know I should stay put. I should wait for someone to tell me what's happening. Instead, I run as fast as my legs could carry me, towards the pack house. When I got there, what I saw sent chills down my spine. The pack house doors stand wide open, and warriors are streaming in and out like angry birds. Without hesitating, I slip between their legs, following the terrible sounds deeper into the building. The marble floors that usually shine like mirrors are muddy now, tinted with dirt and something darker. The great hall erupts with noise as I push through the crowd. Everyone's here—every pack member, every warrior, all pressing forward to see something I can't quite—gather. There… finally I saw what was causing the havoc. Papa kneels in the center of the room, his hands tied behind his back. Blood drips from his split lip, staining his torn shirt. His eyes find mine across the chaos, and the fear I see there stops my heart cold. "Papa!" I try to push forward, but someone's hands grab my shoulders, holding me back. "Murderer!" someone shouts. "Kill him!" "He took our future Alpha!" Alpha Darius stands over Papa like a mountain of rage, his eyes blazing gold. "Confess, Kieran. Confess what you did to my son!" "I didn't—" Papa's voice cracks. "Darius, please, you know me. I would never—" "Marcus is dead!" The Alpha's roar silences the room. "Found in the ravine with your scent all over him!" My stomach drops, my leg weakens. Marcus—Zephyr's older brother. The golden boy who always snuck me honey cakes from the kitchen. He is dead? Why were they saying papa killed him? He would never… "I found the body," Papa whispers, his shoulders shaking. "I tried to help him, but I was too late. Someone else—" "Lies!" Alpha Darius use his backhands to hit Papa so hard, blood sprays across the marble. "The evidence is clear as day!" I wrench free from whoever's holding me and stumble forward, my heart racing. "Stop hurting him!" I screamed. The crowd parts as I run to Papa, my small hands pressing against his bleeding face. He's warm and solid and alive, not the monster they're painting him as. "Sweet girl," he whispers against my hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." A strong arms yank me away. "Get the child back." I twist in the warrior's grip, searching the faces around us. Where's Zephyr? He should be here defending Papa—Papa taught him how to track, how to fight, how to be brave. Zephyr knows Papa isn't a killer. Then I see him. He stands behind his father like a shadow, his dark hair falling over his eyes. Ten years old, same as me, but looking ancient in his stillness. Our eyes meet across the chaos, and I wait for him to step forward. To say something. To tell them all they're wrong. But he doesn’t. Instead, he drops his gaze to the floor. "The pack demands justice!" someone screams. "Blood for blood!" "Death to the traitor!" "No!" I tear free again, throwing myself between Papa and the crowd. "He didn't do it! Papa wouldn't hurt anyone!" Alpha Darius's golden eyes fix on me, and I see no mercy there. "The bloodline is tainted. The guilt runs in his veins." "Then let his blood pay the price!" The chant rises like a tide: "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" "Darius." Papa's voice cuts through the noise, steady now. "If you must take my life, take it. But spare my family. They're innocent." "Are they?" The Alpha circles us like a predator. "How do I know the daughter won't grow up seeking revenge? How do I know the mate won't poison other minds against me?" "Because I give you my word." "Your word?" Alpha Darius laughs, the sound sharp as breaking glass. "Your word is worth nothing, murderer." He signals to the warriors. "Take him to the courtyard. The pack will have their justice." "No!" I cling to Papa's arm as they drag him away. "Papa, don't leave me!" His eyes are wet when he looks back. "Be strong, little star. For Mama. Promise me." The courtyard fills with voices baying for blood. I stand pressed against Mama, her hands shaking as she holds me tight. Papa kneels in the center again, his head held high even as the executioner's blade catches the moonlight. "Any last words?" Alpha Darius asks. Papa's eyes find mine one last time. "I love you, Seraphine. Remember that." The blade falls. His head roll off from his body. My scream shatters the night, but it can't bring him back. "Kieran's mate and child will be banished," Alpha Darius announces over my sobs. "Ten years of exile for their tainted blood. Let them wander until the shame washes clean." "Ten years?" Mama's voice breaks. "She's just a child." "She's the child of a murderer." The Alpha's tone holds no room for argument. "Be grateful I'm not ordering her death as well." Mama’s hands tightened around mine, and I could feel her quivering, even as she tries ri console me. She was crying, pleading and saying something. But my mind couldn’t process what she was saying - no - I couldn’t hear her words over the boiling in my head. I couldn’t hear any thing being said around me because all I could hear, all I could think of was my papa - as my eyes stayed glued to his head which was now pale, and his body laying in the pool of his own blood. They had killed him. He did nothing wrong, and they had murdered him right before my eyes. I could almost feel my heart breaking as each breath I took felt like tiny shards of needles being dragged through my lungs. Tears were streaming down my eyes as I still looked at him but nothing could bring him back. My papa was gone. Dead. Murdered - for something he didn’t do. They had taken papa from us now they want to take our home too. Mama’s pleas didn’t help apparently because In a few minutes, we're being escorted to gather our things. Whispers follow us through the halls—murderer's daughter, tainted blood, cursed child. Every face that once smiled at me now turns away. Zephyr stands at his bedroom window as we're loaded into the exile cart. I press my face to the glass, hoping—praying—he'll look at me. He'll remember our friendship, our promises, our secret place by the lake. Instead, He closes the curtains, as if he couldn’t bear to look at me. ****** The wilderness swallows us whole. Three days of walking, Mama growing weaker with each step. Three days of her crying Papa's name in her sleep. Three days of cold rain and colder stares from the guards escorting us to the border. On the fourth morning, Mama doesn't wake up. I shake her shoulder until my arms ache. "Mama? Mama, please." But grief has claimed her the way the blade claimed Papa. Her heart simply stopped beating for a world without him. The guards abandon me there, beside her still form. Ten years old and utterly alone. For two days I sit with her body, talking to the silence. Telling her about the butterflies she'll never see emerge from their cocoons. About the flowers we'll never plant together. On the third day, hunger drives me to move. I stumble through the forest on unsteady legs, following a stream that tastes like minerals and hope. The berries keep me alive, barely. My clothes hang loose as my body burns through what little fat a child can carry. I'm dying by degrees when they find me. Three figures emerge from the shadows like smoke given form. Rogues—I can smell it on them, that wild untethered scent that pack wolves fear. "Well, well." The woman's voice carries a trace of amusement. "What do we have here?" I should run. Every pack instinct screams at me to flee. But I can barely stand, let alone escape three full-grown wolves. "Just a lost pup," says one of the men. "Probably from Crescent Moon pack. Should we—?" "No." The third voice stops them cold. "Bring her." They lift me like I weigh nothing, carrying me deeper into rogue territory than any pack wolf has ever returned from. But I'm not pack anymore, am I? I'm nothing. The Rogue King waits in a clearing that feels older than memory. Tall as a tree and twice as dangerous, with scars mapping his face like constellations. When his silver eyes meet mine, I see something I haven't seen in days. Interest. "What's your name, little wolf?" "Seraphine." My voice sounds like autumn leaves. "They killed my papa." "Did they now?" He crouches to my level, studying my face with predator focus. "And what did dear papa do to earn such treatment?" "Nothing." The word comes out sharp as broken glass. "They said he murdered someone, but Papa would never—" "Ah." Understanding flickers in those silver depths. "You're Kieran's daughter. I heard about the trial. Such a waste of a good tracker." He knows Papa's name. Somehow that makes the tears come harder. "They took everything," I whisper. "Yes." His voice holds no sympathy, but no cruelty either. "They did. The question is—what will you do about it?" I look up at him through my tears, this legendary figure who makes pack Alphas wake screaming. "I don't know how to do anything. I'm just a kid." "Just a kid." He laughs, the sound carrying an edge of steel. "Just a kid with rage burning in her belly and nowhere left to fall. Do you know what I see when I look at you, Seraphine?" I shake my head. "Potential." He extends one scarred hand. "I can teach you to be more than pack. More than what they made you. But it won't be easy, and it won't be kind." His hand hovers between us like a bridge to another life. "What do you say, little wolf? Ready to learn how to bite back?" I nod and take his hand.