RENEGE

A Hesitant Heart

Scarlet’s POV

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft goldenglow across my room. Shadows stretched along the walls as I stood before the mirror, fastening the last button on my modest green dress with fingers that moved from habit rather than care. The reflection watching me was a stranger’s , eyes dulled of their old spark, cheeks hollowed by years of quiet grief, warmth long since stripped away. The girl I had once been, existed only in memory now.

I brushed on enough makeup to look like I was trying, then stepped into my heels. The knock at the door came just as I straightened up.

“Yes?”

“It’s me.”

Silas.

“Come in.”

He stepped inside wearing a fitted black suit that might have fooled a stranger. It didn’t fool me. I looked him over and said, with complete sincerity, “If you think that suit makes you less ugly, you’re mistaken.”

“Likewise, Scar.” His tone was dry. “You could bury your face in makeup and you’d still remind me of a potato.”

“Oh please.” I gave him the finger for good measure. “I know I’m beautiful.”

He laughed, the easy, familiar laugh that had held me together more times than I could count. Then his gaze drifted to the suitcase by my bed, and the laugh died.

“You’re really set on this, pumpkin?”

I turned to face him fully, letting the smirk fall away. “I was certain the moment I asked for your permission. Silas, I don’t belong here — you know that better than anyone. Living in this pack, in this human form, is suffocating. Every day is a reminder of what I cost them. I know you don’t hold me responsible, but I do. I always will.”

He opened his mouth, but I pressed on.

“If it doesn’t work out, I’ll come back. I promise. But I want to try — I want to know what it means to live somewhere without being a ghost. Among humans, at least I’ll blend in. I’ll be ordinary. Right now, ordinary sounds like freedom.”

His jaw tightened. The worry carved itself plainly across his face.

“I feel like I’ve failed you,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “As your brother. As your Alpha. If someone attacks you in your human form —”

“We’ve been over this,” I said gently. “Humans live by different rules. Their world doesn’t run on pack law or dominance hierarchies. That’s precisely why I’ll be safer there.” I held his gaze. “If I stay, he will find me. But out there, I disappear. Trust me, Silas — this is the right choice.”

His shoulders dropped slowly, the resistance draining out of him even as everything in his posture screamed it wasn’t ready to leave.

“I know you’re right,” he admitted. “That doesn’t make it easier. Come. The rituals are starting.”

********

Tonight was Sarah’s wedding.

My sister’s wedding. And the last thing I wanted was to cast a shadow across the one day she had every right to keep bright.

Eight years had passed since the night our mother died shielding me, and in all that time, Sarah had not forgiven me. The laughter between us had curdled into silence. The love had become cold, careful avoidance. I didn’t blame her. Grief, when it has nowhere else to go, becomes blame and I was the most convenient target. I had accepted that. The guilt was mine to carry regardless, stitched into me so deeply now that I barely noticed the weight.

What still caught me off guard was how much the distance hurt.

Life in the pack had always been a particular kind of difficult. To look at me, you wouldn’t guess — I could shift, I bore the bloodline, I carried myself like I belonged. But in my human form I was incomplete in ways that couldn’t be hidden. No mindlink. No heightened senses. No strength beyond what any ordinary person possesses. Everything that made me a wolf existed only when I shifted. In my human skin, I was exposed. Ordinary. Less.

I had spent years existing in the space between two worlds, belonging fully to neither.

Silas and I walked to the pack church in silence. The night air carried a chill I was grateful for as it kept me focused.

“I should have told you earlier,” Silas said at last. “The Alpha King is attending.”

I stopped walking.

“That’s unusual. He almost never leaves his territory, and when he does, there’s always a reason.”

“Exactly why it surprised me. Father invited him as a formality — he was certain the invitation would go unanswered. Instead, the King’s beta called yesterday to confirm.” Silas paused. “He accepted, Scar. Deliberately.”

King Dallesandro. Even the name carried gravity. Little was known about him beyond his title — his given name, if he used one at all, remained a closely guarded secret. He had ascended at sixteen after his parents died, and had held the packs together through a strength that inspired both awe and fear in equal measure. His rule had kept the continent from open war for over a decade.

Men like that did not attend pack weddings out of sentiment.

********

The church fell silent the moment Silas crossed the threshold. He inclined his head, the congregation settled, and I slipped in behind him — invisible, or nearly so.

I was not nearly so.

The whispers reached me before I’d made it three steps down the aisle.

She resembles the Luna. — So different from before. — I heard she never leaves the house. — I heard she’s leaving.

I kept my chin level and my gaze forward. They weren’t wrong.

Alphas filled the pews in numbers Father had clearly not expected — men and women from packs across the country and beyond. The church had been built for occasions like this, and it was barely enough. Sarah had always drawn people toward her without trying. Even now, before she appeared, her presence organized the room.

The officiant arrived. Jacob followed — composed, steady, the kind of man who didn’t need to fill silence with noise. His Alpha stood at his side. From what I knew of Jacob, he was kind. For Sarah’s sake, I hoped he stayed that way.

The wedding party entered, and I felt the familiar ache flicker awake in my chest when I recognized Lilia, Sarah’s closest friend, walking as maid of honor. I looked down before Silas could catch my eye.

Then the doors opened for Sarah, and the room shifted.

She walked on Father’s arm, radiant in a way that had nothing to do with the dress. Her gaze found Jacob’s immediately, and the bond between them — living, electric — was visible to anyone who knew what to look for. It was beautiful, in the way that things are beautiful when they belong to someone else.

She looked nothing like me. She had Father’s dark hair, his light brown eyes, his ease in a crowd. I wore Mother’s face, which meant I carried a ghost into every room I entered.

Father looked strong, but grief had aged him in ways wolf genes couldn’t fully reverse. For a year after Mother’s death, I had lain awake listening to the sounds of a man breaking — furniture, walls, himself. Losing a mate, they say, is like losing the half of you that remembers what it felt like to be whole. He had lost her because of me, and though he had never once said so aloud, he left every room I entered, as if my presence made the air unbreathable.

Silas had raised me. I had learned long ago not to mourn the father who was still alive.

The vows passed in a blur of candlelight and Latin phrases I had memorized as a child. The cheer that rose when Jacob kissed Sarah was genuine and warm, and I clapped with the rest of them because she deserved that, at least — a crowd full of people celebrating her joy.

“Come,” Silas said, rising. “We should greet them.”

“I’d rather not.”

He pulled me to my feet before I’d finished the sentence.

I lingered at the edge of the small circle as he embraced them both, then straightened, his voice dropping into something cooler.

“Jacob. If Sarah comes to any harm while she’s in your care, you will answer to me directly. Are we clear?”

“I’m not a child,” Sarah muttered beside him.

Jacob only looked at her the way people look at someone they’re still slightly awed by, then back at Silas. “She is my life now. I’ll protect her with everything I have. You have my word.”

Silas stepped aside and gestured for me to come forward. I did, because refusing would have made it worse for everyone.

“Congratulations,” I said quietly. “Both of you. I mean it.”

“Thank you, Scarlet,” Jacob said, with the kind of courtesy that costs nothing and gives everything.

Sarah turned her face away.

“Sarah.” Silas’s voice had a harder edge now. “Scarlet is leaving the pack. It may be a long time before you see her again.”

For just a moment — so brief I might have imagined it — something moved behind her eyes. Something that looked almost like grief. But she pressed it flat with practiced efficiency.

“What am I meant to do with that?” she said, and tugged Jacob away by the arm. He looked back at me with a quiet apology in his expression. I shook my head slightly. It wasn’t his fault.

“I’m sorry,” Silas said, the moment they were out of earshot.

“Don’t be.” I smoothed the front of my dress. “I expected nothing else. I’ve had years to prepare for exactly that.”

“You haven’t earned it,” he said, the words sharp with feeling. “Eight years, Scar. I thought she might manage a sentence.”

“Forgiveness takes its own time. When she’s ready, it’ll come. Until then, I’ll wait.” I glanced toward the doors. “I should go. I’ll miss my flight.”

“You won’t stay for the reception?”

“She’s had enough of me tonight.” I straightened. “And I can’t risk running into a mate before I leave. That would complicate things considerably.”

“Scar.” His voice softened. “A mate isn’t a catastrophe. I would give anything to find mine.”

“For you, maybe.” I met his eyes. “For me, it would only end badly. You know what I am.”

He looked like he wanted to argue. He didn’t get the chance.

William appeared at his elbow, expression tight.

“Silas.” His voice was low, controlled. “The Alpha King has arrived.”