ISLA'S POV
I don't remember crawling to my room.
My body moves on instinct alone, dragging itself through the corridors of the packhouse that suddenly feels like a prison. Every step is agony. Every breath sends lightning through my ribs where the guards' boots connected. My white dress is ruined—stained with blood and dirt and the shattered remains of my life.
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely turn the doorknob to my room.
The moment I step inside, I collapse against the door, sliding down until I'm sitting on the cold floor. The mate bond pain is different now. It's not the sharp, tearing sensation anymore. It's a hollow ache that stretches through my entire body, like someone scooped out my insides and left me empty.
I'm pregnant.
The baby. The secret. The one thing that was supposed to save me.
My hands move to my stomach, trembling. "Please," I whisper, not even sure who I'm begging anymore. "Please be okay. Please, baby, hold on."
I need to think. I need to figure out what to do next. Damien rejected me, yes, but I'm still carrying his child. That means something. That has to mean something. Maybe if I go to him, if I tell him about the baby, he'll—
The door explodes inward.
I barely have time to scramble backward before guards flood into my room. Beta Caine leads them, his expression grim and purposeful. Behind him comes Vivienne, smiling like she's just won a game she was playing all along.
"What—" I start, but Caine steps forward with something glinting in his hands.
The Moonstone Relic.
My blood turns to ice.
"Isla Thorne," Caine's voice is formal now, official in a way that makes my stomach drop even further, "you're under arrest for the theft of the Moonstone Relic, a sacred artifact of Silvercrest Pack."
"What? No—I didn't—" I scramble to my feet, backing away from him. "I've never even seen that before!"
But Caine isn't listening. He holds up the relic, and I see it clearly for the first time—a small stone carved with moonlight symbols, ancient and precious. "This was found hidden in your closet, wrapped in cloth bearing your scent."
My closet.
I never put anything there. I never even touched that relic. I've been the pack's healer for three years, and I've heard stories about the Moonstone—how it's kept in the Alpha's vault, how it's irreplaceable, how—
Oh God.
This is a setup.
This is deliberate.
My eyes snap to Vivienne, and she's not even trying to hide it anymore. The smile on her face is pure satisfaction. She orchestrated this. She stole it and planted it here, and now I'm being framed for something I didn't do.
"Someone put that there," I say, my voice shaking with something beyond fear now. Anger. Hot, desperate anger. "I don't know anything about that relic. You have to believe me—"
"The evidence speaks for itself," Caine says, and I hear the pity in his voice. That's worse than cruelty. Pity means he's already decided I'm guilty.
"Please, just let me explain—"
"You'll explain to Alpha Marcus," he says, and he nods to the other guards.
They grab my arms before I can protest. I try to fight, try to pull away, but my body is broken and they're strong. They drag me out of my room, back down the corridors, toward the pack square where my humiliation is about to get worse.
So much worse.
The square is still crowded. Word must have spread about my arrest because nearly everyone is here, waiting. Watching. Judging. I catch sight of pack members I've healed, people I've helped, and none of them meet my eyes.
Alpha Marcus sits on his throne at the center of the square, and beside him stands Damien. My former mate doesn't look at me.
"Isla Thorne," Marcus's voice booms across the square, "you stand accused of stealing the Moonstone Relic. How do you answer?"
"I'm innocent," I cry out, my voice breaking. "I didn't steal anything. Someone is lying. Someone put that in my room—"
"We have witnesses," Vivienne steps forward, and her performance is perfect. She looks devastated. "I saw Isla sneaking toward the Alpha's vault last week. At the time, I thought she was going to see Damien, but now I realize... she was stealing for some reason. I should have said something sooner."
It's a lie. A complete, total lie.
"That's not true!" I scream. "You're lying! You all know she's lying!"
But no one speaks up. No one defends me. Not even Damien, though I search his face desperately, begging him with my eyes to remember that he knows me. He knows I'm not a thief.
"The evidence is clear," Marcus says, and his voice is final. Damning. "You are hereby exiled from Silvercrest Pack, effective immediately. As punishment for stealing a sacred relic, you are sentenced to exile in the Rogue Lands. You will be given no supplies, no protection, and no second chance."
The words hit me like another beating.
The Rogue Lands. The place where pack rogues go to die. Where rogues hunt anything that moves. Where I have no one.
"Please," I beg, my legs nearly giving out. I look at Damien, desperate now. Truly desperate. "Please, you have to tell them. You know I didn't do this. You know me."
Damien finally looks at me, and his eyes are so cold I barely recognize them.
"I thought I knew you," he says quietly. "Clearly, I was wrong."
The rejection in those words is worse than the mate bond breaking. Worse than the beating. It's the final confirmation that everything between us was a lie. That I was never anyone worth fighting for.
Vivienne leans close to me, her voice dripping with false sympathy as the guards begin to pull me away. "Enjoy the Rogue Lands, sister," she whispers, and she squeezes my shoulder like we're still family.
Like we're still close.
The guards are dragging me toward the border exit, and I'm screaming Damien's name again, begging again, but nobody's listening. Nobody cares. I'm being exiled for a crime I didn't commit, carrying a baby no one knows about, with nothing but the ruined white dress on my back.
As we reach the outer gates, as the guards prepare to push me over the border into the wild territory beyond, I feel something strange.
A heat. Deep inside my stomach. A feverish, almost magical sensation that makes my entire body burn.
The baby.
Something's wrong. Something's very, very wrong.
My hand flies to my stomach as the first real contraction hits, and I realize with absolute horror:
I'm not just being exiled.
I'm going to lose the baby in the Rogue Lands.
And there's nothing I can do to stop it.