The shift back happens without my conscious effort, fueled by my desperation.

I slam myself against the barrier again. And again. And again.

My knuckles split open, blood smearing across the invisible wall that won’t—won’t—let me pass. I can feel the magic humming beneath my hands, mocking me with every futile blow.

“Please…” I sob, hitting it harder. “Please, please!”

It should have worked. The bond is broken. I felt it snap, felt Theron’s agony as the soul-tie severed.

The debt should be paid. The brands on my wrists burned during the rejection, flared with silver light like they were acknowledging the ritual.

I did everything right. I followed the old laws. I freed myself.

So why am I still trapped?

“It should have worked,” I whispered to no one. To the moon. To the empty forest that offers no answers. “It should have…”

But it didn’t.

I curl into myself, arms wrapped around my knees, and something inside me just… stops. The fight drains out like water through cupped hands. What’s the point?

I rejected the bond. I shifted for the first time. I did the impossible. And I’m still here.

Still bound. Still trapped in this pack that hates me, serving wolves who see me as less than nothing.

What’s left? What do I even do now?

The sound of footsteps doesn’t make me move. Doesn’t even make me look up.

“Get up.” Malik’s voice. Flat. Professional.

Like he’s discussing training schedules instead of finding me naked and bleeding at the border.

“No.”

There’s a pause. Then fabric settles over my shoulders—his cloak, heavy and warm and smelling of leather and pine. “You’re injured. The pack is in chaos. You need to—”

“I need to disappear.” My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. “But I can’t do that either, can I? Can’t leave. Can’t die… my wolf won’t let me. Can’t even hide properly because someone always finds me.”

I finally looked up at him, into his cold and steady eyes.

“So tell me, Malik. Why should I get up? Why should I go back and heal and keep breathing when everything in my life is designed to hurt me?”

Something flickers across his face. Surprise, maybe. Or something softer that I can’t name.

He’s silent for a long moment, just staring at me with those obsidian eyes. Then, slowly, he lowers himself to his knees in front of me. The movement is careful, deliberate. Like he’s approaching something wild that might bolt.

“Because giving up now would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” he says bluntly.

I almost laughed. “That’s your motivational speech?”

“I’m not here to coddle you.” His voice is hard, but his eyes—his eyes are something else. “You want to know why you should get up? Fine. Look at yourself. Really look.”

“I don’t—”

“You were there as nobody,” he cuts me off. “Omega blood. Traitor’s daughter. Couldn’t shift. Couldn’t defend yourself. Got discarded by your mate in front of the entire pack.”

Each word is a hammer blow, straight to my spine. Straight to my dignity.

“And if you stay here, broken and bleeding at the border? If you give up now? Then that’s all you’ll ever be. Nobody. Nothing. A cautionary tale mothers tell their pups.”

“I’m already that…” I whisper.

“No.” The word cracks like a whip. “You were that. Past tense. Do you know what you did tonight?”

He leans closer, and there’s something almost fierce in his expression.

“You walked into a Luna ceremony wearing the black dress. You officially rejected an Alpha in front of his entire pack. You shifted for the first time into something that scared every wolf watching. You proved them all wrong.”

“You already proved you’re not helpless,” he continues. “Not the weakest girl who couldn’t shift, who let herself be walked over. So don’t you dare stop now just because it’s hard. Just because you’re scared.”

‘Endure it.’

My wolf. My wolf, speaking clearly for the first time in my life. Not just the feelings inside my head or chest. Not the shimmering presence in the back of my mind. Clear words formed into sentences.

‘I know you can. I know what you’re capable of. Don’t go down without a fight!’

‘We’re not done yet,’ she says, and there’s steel in her voice. ‘Get up. Now.’

I never knew either.

Malik guides me through the estate, avoiding the main halls, taking servant passages until we reach my tiny chamber. He shuts the door behind us, and only then does he move to the water barrel, tearing a strip from his shirt to wet it.

“Sit.” It’s not a request.

I sink onto the mattress, and he kneels beside me, cleaning the blood from my hands with efficient, practiced movements. When he reaches for the bandages I didn’t know he had, I finally speak.

“This doesn’t change much, does it? My shift, I mean.”

He pauses, then continues wrapping my palm. “You proved yourself. That matters.”

“But now they’re scared of me.” I watch his hands work. “While I’m beaten down and vulnerable. Which is…”

“A bad combination,” he finishes, his voice grim. “They’ll get more cruel before they get better. Fear makes wolves vicious.”

“Wonderful.”

He finishes the bandaging and sits back on his heels, studying me. “Keep your head down. Avoid confrontation. Learn to fight properly—I’ll teach you if you want. And don’t shift unless you absolutely have to. Not until you’re stronger.”

“Why are you helping me?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

Something unreadable crosses his face. “Because someone should.”

Before I can think better of it, before fear or pride can stop me, I lean forward and press my lips to his cheek. Just a brief touch. A whisper of gratitude.

“Thank you…” I breathe against his skin.

Malik goes completely still. His face is unreadable—carved from stone, giving nothing away. For three heartbeats, neither of us moves.

Then he stands abruptly and storms toward the door, not looking back. His hand is on the handle when he speaks, his voice rough.

“Lock your door tonight. And every night after.”

Then he’s gone, and I’m alone with my wounds and my wolf and the lingering warmth of his cloak still wrapped around my shoulders.