Chapter 7: After Party

Scarlett’s POV

​When I finally opened my eyes, the harsh sunlight of the yard was gone, replaced by the soft glow of a lamp. I wasn’t on the gravel anymore. I was in my small room, and someone was dabbing a cool cloth against my forehead.

​"Slowly, Scarlett. Don’t sit up too fast."

​I blinked, my vision clearing to reveal Lana. She looked at me with a mixture of pity and anger—anger directed at her brothers, not me.

​"Lana?" My voice came out as a broken whisper. "What happened?"

​"You fainted," she said softly, setting the cloth aside. "Liam brought you inside, though he’d never admit it was out of anything but spite. I’m so sorry, Scarlett. I’m sorry you’re going through this."

​I looked away, the sting of the lashes on my back punctuated by the sting of her kindness. "It’s okay. I’m used to it."

​"It’s not okay," she snapped, her frown deepening. She stood up and paced the small room. "Listen, tonight is the Great Hunt. There’s an after-party in the clearing by the lake once the wolves shift back. I want you to come with me."

​I shook my head immediately, wincing as the movement pulled at my wounds. "No. Lana, I can’t. I’m a servant. I’m a ’thief,’ remember? I don’t belong at a pack celebration."

only eighteen, but she had a regal authority that made her seem years older. She had been my closest friend once, though I remembered the early days when she had hated me—mostly because her

heading for the door. "I’m going to go get you a

dress. She did my hair in a way that hid the exhaustion in my

meat, and the heavy, earthy scent of shifted wolves returning to human form. Everyone was drinking, celebrating the kill. I felt like an alien in a silk skin. The air in the main tent

at me like I didn’t belong there. I was an outsider to them—once a rogue,

I whispered, feeling suffocated by

distracted by a warrior asking her to

into the shadows of the trees near the lake. The cool night air felt like a balm on my skin. I walked toward a secluded corner of the clearing, hoping for a moment

the silence was broken by a

Just a few yards away, hidden by the thick trunk of an ancient oak, was Leon. I knew it was him through the tattoo on his back. The triplets looked exactly the same—same height, same body structure, everything.

around his waist. The sound of skin hitting skin was sharp in

turned back to the party. But I was frozen, trapped

the side. He didn’t look surprised. His

away. Instead, he tightened his grip on the girl’s waist, his thrusts becoming harder, more shallow,

turn around, leaning her forward against the

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