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Chapter 1 — The Accusation
Madeline's POV
My sister Jessica White almost died, and to everyone, I was the one who did it.
The evidence was all there—my fingerprints were found on the wolfsbane-coated dagger, and we were the only two people in the room at the time. But there was one detail they all seemed to overlook—Jessica's prints were on the dagger too.
"She stabbed herself," I insisted.
"Smack!" A sharp, stinging slap landed across my cheek.
My eldest brother, Oscar Jenkins, glared at me, his face twisted with rage. "Still lying through your teeth! That blade was laced with wolfsbane extract! Jessica would never do something like that to herself—she doesn't even have a wolf spirit! She could have died!"
Then my second brother, Liam Jenkins' voice cut in, heavy with disappointment. "Madeline, when did you become so cruel? She's your own sister. I'm disgusted by what you've become."
And then, the final blow came from the one who was supposed to be my fate mate. His tone was cold, detached, as though he were discussing a stranger. "She's clearly lost her mind. We should send her to Arkham."
Arkham...
The full name was Arkham Psychiatric Center, a place reserved for the most dangerous and mentally unstable werewolves in the country. It was the Moonsilver Pack's worst nightmare—a facility everyone whispered about but no one ever wanted to see.
People died there daily, and the stories... they were gruesome. Some were found with half their faces torn off; others were discovered with their insides ripped out.
Every rebellious pup in the pack grew up hearing the same warning, "Be good, or you'll end up in Arkham!" Over the years, the name had become more terrifying than vampires or any mutated creature lurking in the shadows.
And now... they wanted to send me there.
My cheek still burning, I lifted my head and looked toward my mother, Ruth Gibson. She had been silent through it all.
"Mom," I pleaded, my voice trembling, "do you really think I belong there too?"
"I..." She hesitated, avoiding my eyes.
She knew the truth.
She had witnessed Jessica drive the dagger into her own chest. She knew I was being framed.
But when I looked at her, desperate for just one person to stand by me, all she could offer was "It's late. Let's all get some rest. We can take her there in the morning."
That was her final act of mercy as my mother—allowing me one last night at home.
I made up my mind then—I would run away that very night. I'd rather die out there than be locked away in that hellhole.
The front door was bolted shut, so I climbed out through my bedroom window. Before I left, I grabbed some cash, and the only other thing I took was a pure white wool scarf.
It was a gift Mom had given me—originally meant for Jessica on her seventeenth birthday, but she hadn't wanted it. So it became mine. And as pathetic as it might seem, I still loved it. Even now.
The house was eerily quiet, hollow and still, as if everyone had already vanished. Oscar and Liam were most likely at the hospital, keeping watch over Jessica. Mom was probably there too.
As I ran through the dark, I wiped my face with my sleeve—it came back damp.
The irony was almost laughable. For the first fifteen years of my life, I had been the Jenkins family's princess. Oscar doted on me, Liam shielded me from everything—they would've given me the world if I'd asked. I never knew what hardship felt like.
But three years ago, Mom returned after being missing for fifteen years. And she brought Jessica with her.
Everything changed after that.
One by one, everyone who had once loved me became utterly captivated by my half-sister. Even my fate mate.
And me? I slowly faded into the background in my own home. Before long, I became the "jealous sister", the "twisted, dark-hearted freak" in their eyes.
But that day... it was Jessica who stabbed herself and made it look like I did it!
Maybe Oscar and Liam hadn't seen it—but Mom did. She saw everything. And still, she chose to hide the truth for Jessica's sake.
My vision blurred again. I wiped my face roughly, my sleeve growing even wetter.
Then, out of nowhere, I froze.
There, leaning against the rough bark of an old tree, was Vincent.
My fate mate. The boy I'd grown up with, the one who'd once sworn to the Moon Goddess that he would protect me forever.
A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers. He heard my footsteps and looked up.
In the silence of the empty street, his voice fell like a headsman's axe. "Madeline, you can't run from what you've done. You have to face the consequences."
Chapter 2 — Delivered to Damnation
Madeline's POV
It came as no surprise when I was caught.
Vincent's father was the Alpha of the Moonsilver Pack, and Vincent himself carried an alpha-level wolf-spirit. He'd been training as an Alpha-in-waiting since last year. Against someone like that, I never stood a chance—not since I lost my own wolf-spirit. Fighting back was impossible; outrunning him, even more so.
When Oscar and Liam found out I'd tried to run, they rushed over, their anger palpable.
They decided then and there to take me to Arkham in the dead of night. They said the people there would "straighten me out".
Arkham lay deep in the Misty Forest, west of Moonsilver territory—a perpetually snowbound place, remote and barren. Just getting there took half a day by car.
Knowing any hope of escape was gone, I turned to Oscar before we left and asked, "Isn't Mom coming to see me off?"
He frowned. "She's at the hospital with Jessy. She can't make it."
"Oh." I nodded, feeling the last flicker of hope inside me gutter and die.
Of course she wasn't coming. She wasn't going to stop them from sending me away.
Maybe, in her heart, Jessica was her only real daughter.
Eighteen years ago, Mom and Dad fought constantly. Then, the day after I was born, Mom packed a suitcase and left.
I never really knew my mother. I was raised on milk from an omega nursemaid.
Dad was rarely home, either. He was always out there, searching for her. He searched for ten whole years, until he finally died—consumed by grief.
After that, Oscar and Liam stepped up. They held my sobbing little self at Dad's grave and swore they would cherish me forever, that they'd always hold me dear.
And at first, they did. Every pup in the Moonsilver Pack used to say they'd never seen a luckier little she-wolf than me.
Then, when I was fifteen, I found a lost woman—bruised and battered—wandering near our territory. She had a girl with her, a year younger than me.
I brought them home. But the moment Oscar and Liam saw her, they broke down crying.
They called her Mom.
Mom?
The mother I'd wished for, dreamed of, for fifteen years?
When she touched my head, tears in her eyes, and called me Maddie, I cried, too.
I could smell her scent. She was my mother.
And that girl... was my sister.
But... who was her father?
The moment I asked, Mom's face changed. So did the girl's.
Oscar and Liam grew stern and told me to go to my room. They took Mom and my sister into the study.
They talked for what felt like forever. So long that the pasta I'd carefully made for everyone went cold. So long my stomach ached with hunger.
But I didn't eat first. I wanted to wait for Mom.
My gods—I finally had a mom. I shared my joy with my wolf-spirit, Nita.
I'd awakened her on my fifteenth birthday. She was an alpha-level spirit, too.
It was almost 4 a.m. when they finally came out. Their eyes were red and puffy. They'd been crying for hours.
I asked what was wrong, but no one would tell me. They just said Mom and my sister had been through a lot, that I needed to be understanding and let them have their way.
They didn't eat the pasta I made, either. They all went out to a restaurant together. Without me. They said I needed to sleep, that staying up so late was bad for my health.
Looking back now, I guess that was the moment it all started—the moment I became an outsider in my own family.
"What's wrong?" Liam asked from the passenger seat, noticing my shift in mood.
I shook my head, not trusting my voice. I closed my eyes so he wouldn't see them turning red.
He didn't ask again.
The rest of the drive passed in silence. The moon set; the sun rose.
By seven in the morning, the car stopped outside the main gates of Arkham.
Surrounded by mountains on three sides and shrouded in perpetual snow, the place hit my lungs with a frigid blast the moment I stepped out.
I thought I'd given up. I thought I'd accepted my fate. But standing before those cold, black iron gates—like the gaping maw of some giant beast—a deep, primal fear seized me.
I grabbed Oscar's arm. "Oscar, please don't put me in there! I'm not crazy! I don't want to go in!"
He pushed my hand away. "Madeline, if you weren't crazy, why would you hurt Jessy?"
I turned to Liam, desperate. "Liam, please! You promised! You swore you'd always cherish me! How can you do this? What would Dad think!"
Pain flashed across his face, but he hardened his heart and shoved me back. "We're doing this for your own good! If Dad were still here, he wouldn't want to see the monster you've become!"
No, he wouldn't!
Dad would never have done this to me!
I pinned my last, desperate hope on my fate mate. "Vincent! I didn't hurt Jessica! You're my mate! You can feel it—you know I'm not lying, don't you?"
All I got was Vincent's cold, hard stare. His words were like ice. "By the Moon Goddess, I, Vincent, reject Madeline as my mate!"
An agonizing pain tore through me, starting deep in my soul, as though I were being ripped in two.
And just like that, I was delivered to Arkham.
Chapter 3 — A Glimpse of the Abyss
Madeline's POV
Pain. Suffocation.
It felt like a boulder was crushing every bone in my body.
I kept my eyes shut tight, lying motionless on the cold floor. Dozens of other patients were piled on top of me, stacked like some grotesque pyramid. And I was at the very bottom—the foundation of their madness.
I clenched my jaw and endured. This was just another day in Arkham. My third year. Day 1,099.
This had happened more times than I could count. Survival here meant endurance. They would eventually leave once they grew bored.
"Up! Everyone, get up!"
An orderly wielding a prod came running, scattering the mob with practiced efficiency.
Then he looked down at me and delivered a rough kick to my head with his heavy boot.
"Inmate 1030. You have a visitor. Get up and get cleaned up."
A visitor...
After three years? Did he mean the same people who had dumped me here and forgotten I existed?
They weren't my family anymore. Not really.
I remained on the floor, unmoving. The orderly grew impatient, yanking me up by my hair. "You deaf? I said get up!"
He dragged me roughly toward the showers.
"Clothes off!"
I'd heard that command countless times over the years. At first, shame had made me hesitate—but that only earned me beatings. Eventually, I became the fastest wolf in Arkham at stripping.
This time was no different. The moment I was done, I immediately stood in the corner and shut my eyes.
Almost simultaneously, the high-pressure hose hit me, water spraying wildly. It was like I wasn't a person—just livestock in a pen.
"Turn around!
"Arms up! Damn it, such a hassle."
Twenty minutes later, I was taken to the visiting room.
"Mr. Jenkins, Inmate 1030 is here for you."
I looked at the man sitting on the sofa.
He had his hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees. The slight furrow in his brow showed his irritation, the heavy mood surrounding him like a cloud.
It was Liam, alright.
Seeing his face after three years sent a sharp pang through my chest. I lowered my head slightly.
The hurt was real. The resentment, too.
Liam didn't love me anymore. He was the one who had personally delivered me to Arkham.
"Get your things. You're coming home with me," he said, his tone flat.
Taking me home?
I looked up, startled, only to be met by his stern expression. "But on one condition. You are not to cause any more trouble for Jessy back home." He paused, then added, "It was Jessy who missed you and begged me to bring you home. You should be thanking her."
My face fell instantly. Did they really still believe I was the one tormenting Jessica, and not the other way around?
When Mom first returned with Jessica, I had been jealous of the way my brothers and mother doted on her. But they told me Jessica used to be a beta-level werewolf—that she'd lost her wolf-spirit saving Mom.
After hearing that, I stopped being jealous. I even felt sorry for her. I tried to be kind. Even when Jessica played her little tricks and set me up time and again, I just swallowed it. I let it slide.
I didn't want to upset my brothers. I didn't want to make things hard for Mom.
I'd finally gotten a mother. I wanted to keep our family whole and happy.
But I never imagined—and still couldn't understand—why Jessica hated me so much. Enough to hurt herself just to get me thrown into Arkham...
Seeing my sullen expression, Liam's face darkened.
"Your silence means you'd rather stay in Arkham and live the easy life?"
The easy life? I was stunned.
Did he have any idea this place was full of lunatics—people beyond the reach of law or reason?
They could rip my clothes off whenever they wanted. They could jab my face with spoon handles. Their favorite game was "the pyramid"—piling on top of me until I was crushed at the bottom, my ribs and hips screaming, struggling to breathe, sinking into darkness!
These lunatics could kill me and nobody would bat an eye!
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