CHAPTER 54: CHAPTER 54: WHERE FORGIVENESS HURTS

Two simple words. But gods, they landed like thunder. Not because they were unexpected. because they came from him.

Selene’s breath hitched. Her shoulders trembled.

It wasn’t the dagger or the blood or even the weight of the truth that finally broke her—it was those words. That apology from the lips of the man who had caused her the most pain. The one who had used her, marked her, and degraded her without pause.

And now he said sorry?

Something in her chest cracked wide open.

Her legs gave out beneath her.

She collapsed to her knees beside him, one trembling hand bracing against the blood-soaked ground as her other hand clutched her chest—like she was trying to hold herself together, like the apology had reached into her very ribs and shattered something that was already too close to breaking.

"I didn’t want this," she whispered, her voice hoarse, eyes blurred with unshed tears. "I didn’t want any of this."

Could a simple sorry really heal what had already been broken beyond repair? Could two trembling words erase the nights she spent curled on cold stone floors, praying for a death that never came?

Could they take her back—back to the girl she was before the chains, before the shame of being stripped, exposed, and surrounded by men who saw her body as nothing more than a battlefield to conquer?

Could they undo the voices that laughed while she cried? The stench of blood, the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in terror while no one came to save her?

Could they wipe away the brand burned into her flesh—that cursed mark that screamed to the world she has no identity of her own? Could they make her forget the way it had seared through skin and bone until she stopped being Selene and became just a thing?

Was it even possible to forgive men who only saw the scars after they were done carving them into her?

Lucian swallowed hard, his face contorted in pain, but still he didn’t move. Still, he let the blade rest in him like a reminder of what he had done. What they all had done.

"I know," he rasped.

But suddenly the silence between them was pierced by howls.

Soon, the stench hit them, pungent, filthy, and thick with blood and death and decay.

Rogues.

Aeron’s head snapped up instantly, his wolf roaring to the surface so hard his hands trembled.

The sounds came one after another like a broken dam. And in the next heartbeat, they were surrounded by dozens of rogue werewolves.

From between the trees, from the darkness of the forest, from the very fog that clung to the forest’s breath—rogue wolves emerged like ghosts, their eyes glowing feral, their fangs bared, their bodies low and tense and ready to tear flesh from bone.

They realized too late that they had wandered too close to the border of the Silver Dawn pack. But even within the boundary lines, this place was anything but safe. Rogue attacks were constant here—ruthless, unpredictable, and always hungry for blood.

And as if fate was not cruel enough already, their luck could not have been worse than it was today. In that exact moment, when everything was already on edge, they found themselves encircled. Not by a few rogues. But by hundreds.

A sudden tension gripped all of them as the howls echoed. The sound of death. Selene’s breath caught in her throat as she stared ahead, stunned by the sheer number of rogues inching toward them.

Her mind had already gone blank. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. It was almost laughable—how every time she tried to escape, chaos followed. As though the universe itself were mocking her.

She glanced around, her heart pounding, but there was no comfort to be found. Not in herself, not in the odds. Could she even survive this? Let alone escape? She had no wolf. No power. No defense. Just a weak, broken human body with nothing to offer but her own blood.

A dangling piece of meat in the eyes of rogues.

She knew too well what rogues were like—how they attacked relentlessly, abducting she-wolves or venting their madness on anyone who dared live a better life than them. And right now, she was the weakest link. The perfect target. The one no one would miss.

And it seemed the four of them realized it too.

Because the next moment, she was surrounded.

Kael shifted first, bones snapping, his black wolf erupting forward in a blur of pure muscle and rage. Luca followed with a growl, his eyes gleaming crimson, his beast practically frothing to strike.

Aeron didn’t speak—he didn’t need to. He simply let the shift consume him, let the alpha in him rise like a storm, a silent vow that nothing would touch what was his.

Even Lucian, who still bore the pain of her silver dagger, stood tall with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. His face twisted in a grimace, but his resolve was iron.

"Selene!" he barked, stepping directly in front of her. "Move. Now. Get behind me."

But she didn’t.

She stared at him, expression blank, like she didn’t understand what he was trying to do—why he would still protect her, even now.

And perhaps he saw that confusion in her eyes. Because in the next breath, without hesitation, he reached into his own chest and pulled out the blood-soaked dagger she had stabbed him with just moments ago.

He didn’t flinch.

He simply took her hand and placed the hilt into her trembling fingers.

"Protect yourself with it," he said quietly.

Her mind reeled. Why...? How could he possibly return the very weapon she had used to hurt him?

But he only offered a soft, broken smile.

"If stabbing me can bring you even a little relief... then I’ll take a hundred more."

And before she could respond, Lucian shifted into a towering wolf, blood still dripping from his wound, and placed himself between her and the approaching storm, shielding her with the last ounce of his strength.