Chapter 5

• Celeste's POV
• I sat on the gravel for a long time before the dizziness faded.
• No tears, no anger, no shame. Only the hollow ringing in my skull.
• When I finally forced myself upright, my fingers searched my pockets. All I found was a crumpled twenty, two fives, and a pair of half-moon coins worth nearly nothing. Thirty-one credits. That was it.
• Elias had told me to call a car, yet he hadn’t left me a single coin. Of course he hadn’t. He had forgotten—or simply didn’t care—that the day the Frost Family shipped me off to Angel Reform Academy, they stripped me of everything. No jewelry. No wallet. Not even a hair tie. Distractions, they’d said. You’ll learn faster without them.
• The scraps of money I held weren’t even mine. They had been left in the lining of this hoodie—the hoodie’s previous owner. I clenched the coins until the edges cut into my palm, the pain stinging my nose, threatening to drag tears out of me.
• But I didn’t cry.
• I pulled the hood over my head, tightened the sleeves around me, and shoved the coins back into my pocket. Then I walked. One step, then another, down the cold mountain road. The night wind clawed through me, lifting my scent to the sky like a flag of weakness. My shadow stretched long, a small, fragile thing swallowed by the darkness.
• By the time I reached the Frost estate in Moonviel City, night had sunk its claws into the world.
• The windows glowed with warm light, laughter spilling faintly into the cold. I crept closer, my bare feet leaving smudges of blood on the stone path, and pressed myself against the wall near the open hall doors.
• Inside, voices clashed.
• Callen’s tone was sharp, impatient. “We told you to pick her up. Why are you only just returning? And why didn’t you answer our calls?”
• Elias’s careless laugh followed. “I said I had a race tonight. If Serena hadn’t begged, I wouldn’t have bothered fetching her at all.”
• The words sliced me open. I clung to the wall, my nails digging into the stone.
• Then came Serena’s trembling whisper, soaked with false guilt. “Brother Callen… this is all my fault. If I hadn’t spoken up, she wouldn’t have been brought back. Maybe she’s angry at me. Maybe she hates me. If only I’d told the truth back then—that Celeste hadn’t poison me. It wasn’t her fault. I should have confessed.”
• I couldn’t see her face, but I didn’t need to. I knew those tears. I’d grown up in their shadow.
• Elias snapped, protective as always. “Serena, don’t blame yourself. She’s the problem, not you. She always has been. If she’s too proud to come home, let her rot in the streets. Wolves like her never survive alone.”
• My body trembled with fury. My lips parted, desperate to scream—
• —but a sudden voice cut through the hall.
• “Miss Celeste has returned!”
• I jerked back. A servant had spotted me—an Omega maid, her wide eyes fixed on my bloodied feet. She hurried forward, her voice carrying across the living room.
• Every head turned.
• And in that instant, I stood frozen in the doorway, my hands locked together so tightly my nails dug crescents into my palms.
• Their gazes burned into me—Alpha Rowan, Luna Eveline, Callen, Elias, and Serena.
• They didn’t see the bright, untouchable Celeste Frost they remembered.
• They saw a bent figure, head lowered, shoulders trembling beneath a borrowed hoodie.
• The sight of them—my father, my brothers, my mother—ripped the wound open. My voice broke before I could stop it.
• “Why?” I choked out, stumbling forward. My bare feet scraped the polished floor, leaving faint smudges of blood. “Why did you send Lyra to torment me? Why couldn’t you just let me go? I would have left. I would have disappeared. Why—why did you have to destroy me?”
• Rowan’s gaze was stone, his voice cold, dismissive. “It was for your own good, Celeste. You had to be reformed. You had to learn humility, so that you could live in harmony with Serena in the future. A wolf who cannot bend will break.”
• His words splintered something inside me. My throat tore with a scream.
• My eyes found Callen.
• And rage consumed me.
• “You!” I hurled myself at him, clawing, striking with every ounce of fury left in me. I wanted to tear his face open, to feel his blood under my nails. “You betrayed me! You handed me over to your business partners in that hell! You sold me!”
• Callen barely moved. With a calm sneer, he pressed one palm against my shoulder and shoved.
• I collapsed to the floor, trembling. Tears burned down my cheeks.
• “Why, Callen? Why would you do this to me?!”
• He adjusted his glasses, voice smooth, self-righteous. “I don’t know what delusion you’ve spun in your head. I never sold you to anyone. Yes, I might have mentioned, during a meeting, that my troublesome little sister was at the Academy. Perhaps someone thought they’d do me a favor by checking in on you. That’s hardly betrayal.”
• “Checking in?” My laugh was jagged, bitter. “Is that what you call it? Is that what Kane’s screams were to you? Your kind of care?”
• For a flicker of a second, his eyes narrowed. Then his composure snapped.
• “Seems the Academy didn’t teach you enough,” he hissed, his voice low with anger. “Don’t forget—your freedom is conditional. All it takes is one signature from Father, and you’ll be dragged right back to where you came from.”
• His words slammed into me like silver chains. My body recoiled on instinct, a shudder ripping through me. I saw the cages. I smelled the blood. The whip cracking against my back. The dark, endless screams. PTSD coiled around me like a serpent, choking the air from my lungs.
• But I clenched my teeth until they nearly cracked.
• No. I couldn’t go back. I had to see my grandfather. I had to live. Kane’s life had been traded for mine. I still had justice to claim. I still had chains to break. I couldn’t return to that hell.
• And I carried more than my own freedom. In the shadows of Angel Reform Academy, the few who still had the courage to hope had pressed their last wishes into my hands. Messages for families who would never know the truth. Dreams they could no longer chase. Pleas for revenge, for remembrance, for release.
• Their voices burned inside me like brands. I wasn’t just walking for myself—I was walking for them. Every step forward was a vow: I would not let their suffering be buried in silence.
• So I swallowed the scream clawing up my throat, bowed my head lower, and forced the words out like ash.
• “My voice was quiet. Empty. ‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’”
• Eight words. And silence fell like a storm.
• They didn’t know how to respond.
• Luna Eveline was the first to move. She crossed the room, her hands warm as she clasped mine. “Celeste… you’ve lost so much weight. Did the Academy not treat you well?”
• My body went rigid.
• For two years, I had dreamt of those words. Of someone asking. Of someone caring. For two years, I had woken every night hoping—and every dawn crushed that hope to ash. They had thrown me into that pit and forgotten I existed.
• And now, standing in front of them again, her soft concern stabbed deeper than any blade.
• No. The Angel Reform Academy had never treated us well. Wolves weren’t nurtured there—they were broken. Starved. Shamed until they crawled on their bellies like beasts.
• But before I could speak, another hand wrapped around mine.