Chapter 1

Before I met Cain, my life had never been easy.

My mother was the kind of woman who fell for a pretty face. She saw Roland and lost her head.

She fell hard and fast, and didn't check his background before she slept with him.

That's how I came into the world.

After I was born, my mother found out that Roland was from one of the most powerful Packs in the region.

The kind of family where a wave of the Alpha's hand could set someone up for life.

The bad news was that Roland had entered the Forsythe Pack through marriage. He'd bonded with Vivienne Forsythe to climb his way into a powerful bloodline.

In other words, he was a Beta who had used his Mate to gain status in a Pack that wasn't his by birth.

My mother was his secret.

When Vivienne found out, she came for my mother directly.

The Roland who acted so proud in front of my mother became completely spineless the moment his official Mate appeared.

He cut off all contact with my mother on the spot.

He refused to acknowledge me too.

My mother raised me alone. It was brutal. She pulled rickshaws, sold goods at a street stall, got chased by Pack enforcers for miles, and lost a shoe running.

Eventually she couldn't take it anymore.

She said she was going to secure my future.

I don't know how she did it, but she got hold of a DNA test proving I was Roland's daughter.

Then she showed up at his door and made a scene, demanding he take me in and raise me.

The Forsythe Pack was afraid of the scandal spreading. They agreed.

That's when my mother and I were separated.

The day I was sent to live with the Forsythes, my mother smiled through her tears. "Ember, you'll never go hungry again."

But my mother was too naïve.

Roland saw me as a stain. Vivienne hated me.

The staff knew which way the wind blew, so they never gave me an ounce of warmth.

And my half-sisters — they came up with new ways to torment me every single day.

My mother would never know any of this.

That day at the Forsythe Pack's gate was the last time I ever saw her.

She had cancer. Stage four. She couldn't afford the treatment.

After she handed me over to Roland, she walked to the river and jumped.

I grew up in the Forsythe Pack as an adopted daughter, careful with every step, every word.

The year I turned fifteen, I met a boy at the Forsythe estate.

He'd cut himself on a rosebush. His arm was bleeding.

But he seemed completely unaware of it. He was sitting in the garden with headphones on, listening to music.

I thought for a moment, then went to find antiseptic. I cleaned the wound and put a bandage over it.

I found out later that his name was Cain Thorne.

His grandfather had brought him to visit the Forsythes.

For some reason, Gerald Thorne took a liking to me. He wanted me to become his grandson's Mate.

The Thorne Pack was old and powerful. Roland agreed immediately.

When my sisters heard the news, they laughed and sneered.

"You think you've found yourself a golden ticket? If this were actually a good match, it wouldn't have fallen to you."

"That Cain Thorne — he's had social disorders and emotional dysregulation since he was a child. He's not normal."

But because of the Arranged Mate Bond, Vivienne finally started treating me with a shred of decency.

Life in the Forsythe Pack got a little easier. At least they stopped tormenting me.

I kept thinking about that boy in the garden — quiet, lean, listening to music like nothing else in the world existed.

He didn't know it, but he'd helped me more than he could imagine.

I was genuinely grateful to him.

I started reading everything I could about his condition. I learned how to live with someone like him.

Then, at twenty, with both families' arrangements in place, I was bonded to Cain Thorne.

I had no idea Cain would fight the bonding this hard.

From the moment I moved in, he never once looked at me with anything but hostility.

He wouldn't let me touch him. A shared bed was completely off the table.

On the night of the Marking Ceremony, he had a full breakdown in the room we were supposed to share.

"Get away from me."

"Stay out of my room."

"Out. Get out of here."

I stood there with my head down, humiliation rising in my chest.

That same night, Gerald came to find me.

He explained that Cain had always been this way — withdrawn, unable to tolerate close contact with people. The woman who had cared for Cain for years had just passed away, and Cain's condition had been getting worse.

He asked me to be patient. To give Cain time.

I agreed.

From that point on, taking care of Cain became my responsibility.

I split my time between finishing my studies and managing his life at Thorne Manor.

I reminded him to take his medication. I brought him to his medical appointments on schedule. I planned his meals and laid out his clothes.

Cain wasn't completely closed off, though. Slowly, he started responding to me.

He stopped telling me to get out.

Once, when he found me asleep on the couch, he awkwardly draped a blanket over me.

Another time, when I was in pain from cramps, he made me a cup of hot tea with honey.

But he never came to my bed. Not once.