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TILDA

I t took me all of three weeks from being a respected member of this community to being their prisoner.

I’m kept under lock and key for forty-eight straight hours, not even allowed to leave to use the bathroom. I don’t get to see Enid, or anyone else I know. Patrick comes in once more to interrogate me about the den, and I refuse to answer any of his questions even when he threatens to torture me.

Then he says he’s contacting the Heavenly Host…trying to trade me for supplies.

What a fucking fool.

Another day passes, then another. The only way I know is by watching the red glow of the sun grow outside the tiny garden-level window in my cell, then disappear again.

I’m kept going by the knowledge that Reyes is alive. Things are tense for a bit on that first night, stabs of pain shooting from my chest to my shoulder—but they remind me that he’s still here. I would know if he was dead; I’m certain of that. I feel him gaining strength on day two, finally resting on day three, and then I feel him wake up.

Incense washes over me on that fourth morning, and I reach over in my cot like I’ll feel him there. He isn’t, obviously, but it tells me what I need to know.

He’ll come for me soon.

And I have to get out before he tries…or it’s going to be a bloodbath. More of our pack could die.

Getting out and meeting them halfway is the best course of action.

So, by day five, I’ve formulated a plan.

It does include potentially killing Patrick, but at this point I’m not averse to the idea. In fact, I’m ready to burn Homestead to the ground and drag Enid out with me…which may also factor into my plan. Maybe I’m going a little stir crazy, but my plan gets more and more elaborate, ending in a fiery display of rage.

I realize why when the moon rises that night.

It’s almost full…and I need my mate.

This is…less than ideal. I’m a grown woman who’s spent my entire life in full control of myself, and all of a sudden, there’s a monster in my chest that’s willing to do anything to get back to her mate. My wolf doesn’t care if there’s a town full of people here; they can all go to hell as far as she’s concerned.

The lines between us are getting blurry.

I think I like her rage.

Especially because I’m not just a member of the pack—I’m the Prime’s mate, and I won’t be separated from Reyes. I can feel his anger, simmering in the back of my mind like an open flame. It keeps me awake at night, my heart pounding in sync with his fury. Every moment in this damn cell sharpens my instincts, heightens the itch to fight, to escape. I’ve spent five nights here, pacing like a caged animal, waiting for someone to come through that door—someone I can end if it means getting back to him.

But of course, on the morning of the sixth day—the last day before the full moon—they send the one person I could never lay a finger on.

My sister.

I know it’s her before I even see her face. Her scent—lavender soap and that faint trace of mint tea she’s always loved—fills the room, stirring a mix of emotions I can’t untangle. Relief, fury, heartbreak. When the heavy metal door creaks open, Enid steps inside, clutching a satchel to her chest like it’s a shield. She’s still too thin, her frame too small for her age, and her eyes—so much like mine—widen the moment she sees me.

I’m sitting on the cot with my back against the wall, my legs stretched out in front of me, my hair tied in a messy knot on top of my head. The air is stifling, hot enough that sweat clings to my skin, making it feel like every breath is a chore. My whole body burns with restless energy, every muscle coiled tight, ready to spring.

But when I see her, that tension morphs into something else entirely.

“Oh,” I breathe, my voice sharp and bitter in the small space. “It’s you.”

Enid hesitates at the threshold, glancing over her shoulder before stepping fully inside. The door clangs shut behind her, the sound like a death knell in the silence. She presses herself against the far wall, clutching the strap of her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

She’s afraid of me.

My chest tightens, the realization hitting harder than I’d expected. My own sister—my blood—doesn’t trust me anymore. The people of Homestead have done this. They’ve poisoned her against me.

“What do you want, Enid?” I ask, my voice low but laced with venom. “Come to check if I’ve grown fangs yet? Or maybe to see if the lycan bite has made me sprout a tail?”

“Tilda,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t?—”

“Don’t what?” I snap, sitting up straighter. “Don’t call it like I see it? Don’t point out that my own sister can’t even look me in the eye?”

She swallows hard, twisting her hands in front of her like she’s trying to wring water from them. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Then why did you grab me?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intend. “You didn’t have to do that. And why did you let them take my prisoner? I’m not your enemy, Enid.”

Her eyes dart to the floor, guilt written all over her face. “I know,” she says softly, barely audible. “It’s just that I’m…” She pauses, like she’s searching for the right words. “I’m scared of what they’ve done to you.”

I let out a low groan, shaking my head in frustration. “What did Patrick tell you?”

Her lip trembles, and for a moment, I think she might refuse to answer. But then she glances back up at me, her eyes glistening. “He said you won’t tell him anything about the pack, or the den. That old cavern where they’re holed up—you act like it’s your home.”

“It is,” I say, the words coming out before I can stop them. “It’s hard to explain, but it is. It’s more of a home than this town has ever been.”

Enid flinches, her breath hitching. “But what about me?” she asks, her voice breaking. “All these years, it’s just been the two of us, Tilda. Then you run off, you get hurt, and you don’t come back. You left me.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. I see the tears welling in her eyes, and it feels like all I can do now is make her cry. My throat tightens, and I bite my lip, trying to hold myself together. When I look at her, I force myself to see her as I used to—a scared kid, my kid, the sister I promised to protect. Not someone who doesn’t trust me anymore. Not someone who’s looking at me like I’m the enemy.

I soften my voice, taking a step closer but careful not to crowd her. “Enid…I didn’t leave you. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. But I’ll tell you everything, okay? You deserve to know.”

She sniffles, brushing a hand across her cheek to catch the first tear before it falls. “Everything?”

“Everything,” I promise. “But you have to promise me something first.”

She hesitates, her brows knitting together. “What?”

“You have to keep an open mind,” I say firmly, locking eyes with her. “And you have to at least try to believe me. No matter how crazy it sounds.”

Enid nods slowly, her fingers still tangled together in front of her. “Okay,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I promise.”

The weight of her answer settles over both of us, heavy and uncertain. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. This isn’t going to be easy, but it’s the only chance I have to get her to see the truth—and to get her on my side.

“This is going to sound crazy, I know,” I say. “Before I start, I need you to understand that I thought it was crazy myself. It all started when David shot me.”

“He still says he didn’t do that.”

“Do you really believe he wouldn’t be capable of it?” I scowl. “I thought the kid had a good heart, but why would I lie about that?”

Enid squirms under my stare. She’s never been comfortable when I challenge her; but she’s also rarely fought me on anything. “Okay,” she says. “Say I believe that. Keep going.”

“Reyes—Father Garza. He was the one who found me, and I was almost gone. The bullet hit me right here in the stomach.” I gesture at the spot. “And in order to save my life, he had to bite me.”

Enid starts to roll her eyes, but my glare stops her. “I’m sorry, you’re losing me,” she says. “We all know their bite has a weird effect, just like the old movies.”

“Stop, Enid,” I say. “He didn’t want to do it, and he treated me with the utmost respect. In fact, the wolves treated me with more dignity than I’ve gotten here. They gave me free roam of the den right away, gave me a friend to lean on, to guide me around, named…” I hesitate to give out her name, but I do it because I hope that, one day, they’ll meet. “…named Peaches. And they told me that all they wanted was a garden plot. In exchange, they offered to get you medicine.”

Enid licks her lips, her brow furrowing.

“You’re running out of insulin soon, aren’t you?” I ask.

She shrugs. “We bought some off some travelers,” she says. “But I had to pay a pretty penny for it.”

“What did you trade?”

“My horse.” She starts to tear up again, but quickly flicks the salty trail from her cheek. “That’s beside the point.”

“Not really,” I say. “Reyes wouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

Her jaw tenses, a muscle twitching in her neck. Then she bites her lip and nods. “Keep going.”

“Well,” I continue, “I started their garden, and I got to know him, and the bite had an effect, but honestly…I fell in love with him, Enid. Not him as some monster that worked his magic on me, but him as a person. He’s kind, and smart, and…and funny, believe it or not. Optimistic, and such a romantic that he makes my knees weak.”

I look up at her, trying to show her just how much conviction I have to get back to him.

“We saw something in each other that was worth fighting for,” I say, my voice low but steady. “That’s why we took the risk to come here. It was his idea—because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. Bet he regrets that now.”

Her brow furrows, her lips parting as if to argue, but she hesitates. Instead, she says softly, “You talk about him like he’s alive.”

“That’s because he is,” I reply firmly. “I know he is. I can feel him, Enid. It’s not some vague hope or wishful thinking—it’s real. I can feel his heartbeat. His pain. And that’s why I have to get out of here and get back to him.”

Enid exhales sharply, running a hand through her tangled hair. “You sound crazy, Tilda,” she mutters. “You’re talking like some kind of lovesick rebel.”

“Maybe I am crazy,” I snap, my voice rising, “but not because of Reyes. It’s because you—” I stop, forcing myself to take a breath before my anger spirals out of control. “It’s because you let me get locked up in here for six straight days, Enid. Six days of sitting in this cell while Patrick does whatever the hell he wants.”

My glare burns into her as I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my chin defiantly. Enid flinches, hunching her shoulders like a scolded child. She chews on her lower lip, worrying at it until I see the faintest smear of blood. The sight makes my stomach twist, but I don’t let up. She needs to hear this.

“You could have done something,” I say, my voice softer now but no less cutting. “You could’ve told Patrick to stop. You could’ve stood up for me, fought for me like I’ve fought for you your entire life. But instead, you let them keep me here. Why?”

Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and she shakes her head as if to ward them off. “I didn’t know what to do,” she whispers. “Patrick’s in charge, Tilda. I’m just…I’m just trying to survive, same as you.”

“Surviving isn’t enough,” I say, the bitterness in my voice undeniable. “Not when it means letting the people you care about suffer.”

She wipes at her eyes, her lip trembling. “You don’t understand. I tried, okay? I tried to talk to Patrick, to get him to listen. But he wouldn’t. He says you’re dangerous now, that you’ve been turned into one of them.”

“‘One of them,’” I echo bitterly. “He doesn’t know the first thing about me, and neither do you if you believe him.”

“I don’t believe him,” she says quickly, her voice breaking. “But…I don’t know who you are anymore, Tilda. You left, and now you’re back, and everything’s different. I’m scared.”

Her confession hangs in the air between us, heavy and raw. For a moment, my anger ebbs, replaced by a wave of guilt and sadness. I hate that I’ve made her feel this way—that I’ve left her adrift in a world that’s already so hard to navigate. But I can’t let her fear control the narrative anymore.

“I’m still your sister,” I say, my voice softening. “I always will be. But if you want to know who I am now, you have to trust me. Trust that I’m telling you the truth about Reyes, about the pack, about everything.”

Enid hesitates, her eyes searching mine like she’s trying to decide if she can believe me. “And if I do?” she asks quietly. “What happens then?”

“Then we figure this out together,” I say. “But first, you have to let me out of here.”

She looks away, biting her lip again, but this time she doesn’t argue. Maybe she’s starting to see the cracks in Patrick’s control—or maybe she’s just realizing how much she’s missed having her sister by her side. Either way, it feels like progress, and I cling to it like a lifeline.

“All you have to do is open the door,” I say. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Her answer is unexpected, and it hits me harder than I’d like.

“But you’ll leave me,” she whispers.

Enid stands before me, shoulders tense, her frame silhouetted against the fading light. She’s twenty now—an adult—but she still carries the fragility of someone who’s been protected their whole life. I’ve done everything I could to shield her, to prepare her for a world that doesn’t care if you’re ready or not. And now, here we are.

I push myself off the cot, walking toward her slowly, and reach for her hands. They’re cold, trembling slightly as I take them in mine. We’re the same height, but she feels so much smaller. Reedy. Breakable. She hasn’t had the chance to grow into the kind of strength she’ll need, but I have to believe she will.

She has to.

“Then come with me,” I tell her softly, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “Meet me by the fence. We’ll go together. The pack would welcome you.”

Her lips tremble as she swallows hard, her resolve wavering. “Tilda, I can’t go there,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m too…I don’t trust them. I’m sorry, I know you want me to—but I just can’t.”

I feel myself choking up too, and I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Then you need to let me leave,” I say. “If you don’t…we’ll be separated anyway. You can see that, right?”

She’s crying now, not bothering to restrain herself. “Tilda…”

“Enid,” I say steadily. “I was fourteen when you were born. And then our parents were gone, and I was basically your mom. I’ve given my whole life to you, little sister. Can you give me this?”

She swallows hard, strengthening her resolve. I don’t know if that resolution is to double down and force me to stay, or to set me free. Enid grasps my hands tightly, then gazes up at me.

“You really love him?” she asks.

“With everything I am,” I whisper.

“Okay,” she says. She takes one hand from me and swipes at her eyes, sniffling loudly. “Okay. I’m going to…I just have to take care of the guard.”

Before she can pull away, I fling my arms around her neck and pull her into a tight hug. My little sister—my strong and brave little sister—sobs against my shoulder, and we just stand there for an infinite minute as we enjoy this moment together.

I believe it won’t be the last.

We pull away slowly, Enid sniffling loudly. At least she’ll be able to make it seem like we were fighting. “We should give it until nightfall, and then I’ll open the door for ya,” she says. “I’m going to clear a path toward the gate. You think you can slip out?”

“There’s a gap in the fence just south of the main gate,” I say. “Might want to get that patched up, actually. Wouldn’t want any wolves creeping in.”

She scowls, but I just laugh.

“I’m kidding, Enid,” I say. “No one is going to hurt y’all. And you know that if you want to join us, there’s a place for you.”

I put my hand on her shoulder, and she covers my hand with hers.

“I know,” she says. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

“See you in an hour,” I say. “I love you, Enid.”

She smiles, fighting back tears. “Love you too, Tillie.”

And then she leaves me alone, hanging on to the hope that she’ll stick to her word.