I stood at my office window, staring out at the academy grounds where students moved around the campus.
The cup of chamomile tea in my hands had gone cold an hour ago, but I continued to nurse it, finding comfort in the familiar ritual even as my mind churned with thoughts I couldn’t silence.
Isolde’s voice kept ringing in my ears, her words from our last private conversation echoing over and over in my mind.
"One of your children goes to Ravenshore."
That single sentence had shattered whatever peace I’d managed to build over the years.
The casual way she’d delivered the information, like she was commenting on the weather, had made it even more devastating. She knew.
After all, she’d been one of the people who facilitated giving them away. She’d said having a child at 18 would only ruin my chances to have a better life, and because of how much love and security Isolde had given me at that time, a mere 15-year-old, I’d fallen for it.
Meeting Isolde had been my biggest regret, but giving away my children—that was the mistake that haunted my every waking moment. I’d been young, desperate, trapped in circumstances that offered no good choices.
I wanted to become more. I wanted the shiny things life could offer, and Isolde had convinced me that having children would take those opportunities away. I had to choose between becoming a mother and my life.
So, I’d chosen becoming fulfilled over motherhood, and I’d been paying for that choice ever since.
For years, I’d tried to find them, to trace the carefully obscured adoption records and falsified documents. But Isolde’s reach was extensive; her resources seemed to be unlimited. Every lead I’d followed had led to dead ends, every contact I’d cultivated had suddenly become unreachable. She’d made sure there were no clues whatsoever, no trail I could follow back to my lost children.
But the other day, she’d brazenly told me that one of my children attended Ravenshore. The cruelty of it was breathtaking—dangling that information in front of me while making it clear that she held all the cards.
The thought had been tormenting me since Isolde’s revelation. The bond I felt with Charis wasn’t mere academic interest or professional concern. From the moment I’d discovered she was a girl hiding among the male students, a protective instinct had flared inside me that I’d never experienced with any other student. Of all the thousands of young people who had passed through these halls during my tenure, Charis was the only one I’d put my reputation on the line to help.
But it couldn’t be her. She had a mother, Luna Eva Greye, the wife of Alpha Silas. There was documented evidence of her birth, her parentage, and her early childhood. There was no way Charis could be one of the children I’d been forced to surrender.
And it didn’t help that I felt so misunderstood by her. I hated that she thought I was behind her misery. I hated that she thought I was the villain, and the very woman pretending to love her was the one who hated her most.
Isolde was after something.
She had problems with trusting anyone, and that alone had helped her keep the real purpose of her mission under wraps. There must be a way to find out about him, too. To slowly take away power from her and live an everyday life without her influence. The source of this content ɪs 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⁂𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⁂𝕟𝕖𝕥
A soft knock at my door interrupted my spiralling thoughts. My secretary peered in,
"Alpha Silas has arrived," she announced.
I set down my cold tea and straightened my blazer. "Let him in."
I returned to my seat behind my desk, arranging my features into the composed mask I’d perfected over decades of difficult conversations.
Isolde had insisted I make him come all the way to Ravenshore and inform him about Charis, and make sure they see each other when he finally comes.
When the door opened and Alpha Silas walked in, the sight that greeted me shocked me to my core.
The man who entered my office bore little resemblance to the influential pack leader I’d met at various political functions over the years. He looked like he might drop dead at any moment—his face gaunt and pale, his once-imposing frame diminished by what appeared to be months of illness or extreme stress.
Behind him followed his wife, Eva, and my blood ran cold at the sight of her. Unlike her husband, she looked exactly as she had five years ago when I’d last seen her—not a day older, not a line of worry or stress marking her face. Her dark hair was perfectly styled, her clothes immaculate, her posture poised and elegant like a typical Luna.
I’d always had reservations about Eva Greye. She was an introvert to her core, rarely speaking at social gatherings, seldom engaging in the political conversations that were the lifeblood of pack leadership.
In all the years I’d known her, I’d never heard her speak more than five sentences at any occasion. It worried me that someone like Eva could be so... controlled. So deliberately invisible.
Rumours had it that Silas constantly abused her, but she never showed it. In public, she was the perfect wife and Luna of Silas Greye.
Quiet people were often the most dangerous. They observed everything, revealed nothing, and struck when you least expected it.
Eva gave me a tentative smile and helped Alpha Silas into one of the visitor chairs.
"Why did you want to see me?" Silas asked. Despite how sick he looked, his voice was still strong, carrying the authority that had made him one of the most respected pack leaders in the region.
I cleared my throat, choosing my words carefully. This conversation could go in several directions, and I needed to be prepared for all of them.
"Your daughter Charis has been found," I said quietly, watching their faces for reactions. "In fact, she’s within the academic grounds at this moment. I was going to ask her to come see you, but if you’d prefer, I can arrange for you to meet privately—"
"C-Charis!" Luna Eva’s voice cut through my words. She rose from her seat so abruptly that she nearly knocked over the chair. "She’s alive?"
The shock in her voice seemed genuine, but there was something else there—something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Relief, yes, but also something that looked almost like... fear?
Alpha Silas reached out to steady his wife, his own face cycling through disbelief, hope, and a desperate kind of joy that was painful to witness.
"She’s here?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. "My daughter is really here?"
"She is," I confirmed, studying Eva’s reaction carefully. "She’s enrolled as a student under the name Charis Greye Knox, ward of Isolde Knox."
At the mention of Isolde’s name, Eva went utterly still. The colour drained from her face, and her hands began to tremble visibly.
"Knox," she whispered, and there was pure terror in her voice now. "No. No, that’s not possible."