Maria.

Days slipped past me like drifting smoke—unclear, fleeting, impossible to hold onto. One moment bled into another until I could no longer tell where one day ended and the next began.

Everything felt... distant, like I was moving through a haze I couldn’t escape. And then suddenly, everything shifted.

Aidan announced the continuation of the competition.

The news spread quickly across the pack, whispers turning into excitement, tension rising once again. For a brief moment, something inside me stirred—relief, maybe even a flicker of anticipation.

But it didn’t last.

Because beneath that fragile excitement was a heavier truth.

Adrien was still recovering.

The assassination attempt hadn’t been fully resolved, nothing had truly been settled.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides as the thought settled deeper into my chest.

What if something happens again?

What if this time... no one steps in?

The unease refused to leave me.

I sat there, lost in my thoughts, my mind running in circles, trying to make sense of everything that had happened and everything that still felt dangerously unfinished.

And then I heard it. A loud knock, it broke through the silence.

I flinched slightly, my head snapping toward the door as my heart skipped a beat.

"Rogue 456! Luna Vanessa asked that you report to her chamber!" The voice echoed clearly from the other side.

I blinked, momentarily stunned.

Vanessa?

My brows furrowed slightly as confusion settled in.

"Alright! I will be there," I replied, my voice steady despite the questions already rising in my mind.

Footsteps faded from outside my door.

Silence returned.

But it wasn’t the same silence as before.

This one felt... heavier.

Why was Vanessa requesting my presence?

I had never been assigned to her before.

Not once.

So why now?

A strange feeling twisted in my stomach.

What exactly does she have up her sleeve this time?

I exhaled slowly, pushing myself up from the bed. Every movement felt reluctant, like my body already knew this was something I didn’t want to walk into.

But I had no choice.

Vanessa was soon to be Luna.

Disobeying her wasn’t an option. I couldn’t risk drawing unnecessary attention to myself, not now, not with everything already spiraling out of control.

So I moved.

Step by step, I made my way through the halls, my thoughts growing louder with each passing second. The corridors felt longer than usual, the air thicker, almost suffocating.

By the time I reached her chamber, my chest felt tight, uncomfortably so, like something unseen had wrapped itself around my ribs and was slowly pulling tighter with every step I took.

I stopped in front of the door and just stood there staring at it. For a brief moment, everything went still—the hallway, the air, even my thoughts, as if something was warning me without words.

And then, I heard it.

A sound.

Soft at first, barely there. It was so faint I almost thought I imagined it but then it came again, clearer this time.

Moaning.

My entire body went completely still, every muscle locked. My breath caught halfway in my throat, refusing to move as the realization hit me—sudden, sharp, and disorienting.

The hell.

The thought echoed, heavy and disbelieving, as my hand hovered near the door, just inches away from touching it.

Hesitation crept in, unwelcome and unfamiliar.

For a second...just a second...I considered turning around, walking away and pretending I had never come here. Pretending I hadn’t heard anything. I hadn’t seen anything.

I hadn’t been pulled into whatever was happening behind that door.

But I knew better.

I couldn’t.

I would put the other rogue in danger. Not after her message has been delivered.

Slowly, I lowered my hand, my fingers curling into a tight fist at my side as I stood there, caught between curiosity and something deeper... something heavier....unease.

Whatever was happening inside that room...I had just walked straight into it and there was no turning back now.

Before I could give myself time to think, before hesitation could root itself any deeper, I lifted my hand and knocked.

The sound was firm and decisive.

My knuckles had barely left the surface of the door when her voice came from inside...low, breathless and hurried.

"Come in!"

Something about the tone made my chest tighten all over again, sharper this time, more insistent, like a warning I didn’t fully understand.

But I pushed the thought aside.

Ignored it.

I had come this far.

There was no reason to stop now.

I reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Slowly.

The hinges gave way with a quiet motion as the door swung inward, and the moment it did...My steps halted.

Completely.

Everything inside me stilled at once, like time itself had paused, leaving me standing there on the threshold, caught between what I expected...and whatever reality waited just beyond it.

Vanessa.

Davian.

On the bed.

Her body barely covered, his frame close to hers, their hands intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like there was nothing wrong with it. Like I wasn’t even there.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. A sharp, sudden pain tore through my chest, so unexpected that it made my fingers twitch at my sides. It wasn’t just discomfort, it was deeper, heavier... almost suffocating.

And then...the mark, the exact spot where I had been marked suddenly burned, itching so intensely it felt like it was alive beneath my skin. I instinctively resisted the urge to touch it, my nails digging into my palm instead.

Why?

Why was I reacting like this?

"Get Vanessa water, Maria." Davian’s voice cut through everything, cold, commanding and dismissive.

He didn’t even look at me, not once. He acted like he hadn’t just marked me a few days ago. And now he was treating me like I was nothing more than a servant standing at the door.

My throat tightened.

And seriously?

Out of everyone...Why did they have to call me?

Why didn’t they send someone else?

Or... was this intentional?

Did they want me to see this?

My eyes flickered back to them for just a second, just enough to make the ache in my chest deepen.

Why does it hurt?

Why does it feel like something inside me is being twisted apart?

I swallowed hard, forcing my expression to remain blank, even as my thoughts spiraled out of control.

I need to leave this pack.

That thought came suddenly, firmly, like the only clear thing in my head. Thank goodness...the competition has already resumed.

Maybe that would be my way out.

"Didn’t you hear me?" Davian’s voice rose this time, sharper, more impatient.

And only then did it hit me...I was still standing there.

Frozen.

Staring.

I quickly lowered my gaze, stepping back as if the very air around me had scorched my skin.

The room itself seemed to press in, heavy and suffocating, and I felt my own presence there like a mistake, like a misstep that could not be undone.

"I—I’m going," I muttered under my breath, the words barely escaping my lips, uncertain, fragile, almost swallowed by the tension still lingering in the doorway.

I wasn’t even sure if I had spoken clearly, but somehow the sound of my own voice startled me.

I turned immediately, twisting on my heel and moving toward the exit, my feet feeling unsteady yet driven.

The door slammed behind me with a little too much force, echoing sharply down the hall, as if marking the separation between what I had just witnessed and what I now needed to be.

Out in the hallway, the weight pressing against my chest eased slightly, replaced by a restless energy that made my steps quicken.

They grew faster and faster, almost frantic, as though running could erase the moments I had just experienced, as if speed could create distance between my mind and what my eyes had seen. I didn’t stop until I reached the kitchen, the familiar space offering a tenuous sense of grounding.

Grabbing a cup with hands that trembled slightly, I filled it with water, the cool liquid cascading into the glass and catching the light in soft, rippling reflections.

I stared down at the surface, my own reflection staring back at me, though it seemed strange, distorted, almost like someone else’s. Confused, unreadable.

What exactly is wrong with me?

I wondered silently, the question pressing hard in the hollow space behind my eyes.

Why does it feel like this?

Why is there a pull in my chest that shouldn’t exist?

My mind kept circling the same questions, trying to reason through a storm of sensation I could not name.

What exactly was I expecting?

What had I thought would happen if I stayed a moment longer?

And why does it hurt... so much, like I’ve lost something that was never even mine to begin with?

My fingers tightened slightly around the cup, the condensation dampening my grip as the questions lingered, echoing in the quiet kitchen.

Unanswered. Unsure. Heavy.

The silence around me felt almost deliberate, as if the world itself was waiting for me to find the words, the understanding, the reason—but none came.

I was left with nothing but the echo of the questions and the steady, insistent beat of my own heart.