Chapter 245

Olivia

A deafening silence hung over the town square after Mingan’s declaration.

The remnants of the fire danced around in a fading choreography, casting a hazy orange glow against the expressions of the gathered crowd. It mixed with the rising sun, reminding me that I hadn’t slept a wink all night.

“What is this?” I stammered, my voice breaking. I stooped, my fingers gripping the charred straw. My mind raced, unable to grasp the implications of the blackened strands in my hand.

Mingan took a deep breath, exasperation lacing her words. “Your ignorance knows no bounds, Olivia. It’s a message. One that has caused our town much pain and loss already.”

My gaze locked with hers, the weight of her disapproval sinking into my bones. “What message? I don’t understand.”

“Last night,” she began, her voice steady but dripping with disdain, “Ryan’s followers constructed an effigy. Of you.”

The last of Mingan’s words echoed in the smoky atmosphere, leaving me bewildered and surrounded by the disapproving eyes of the townspeople. The burnt straw in my hand felt cold and gritty, its blackened fibers a testament to the betrayal I was suddenly confronting.

“What do you mean, an effigy?” My voice was shaky, barely audible over the distant roar of the flames.

Mingan’s eyes, always sharp and critical, seemed even more piercing in the fire’s amber glow.

“I mean exactly what I said, Olivia,” she spat. “A life-size representation of you, set alight in the town’s very heart.”

The weight of her revelation hit me like a tidal wave. The ambient noise—the crackling of burning wood, the distant shouts of townsfolk, the cacophony of despair—faded momentarily.

“Why? Why would they do this?” My voice cracked, and I could feel the eyes of the assembled crowd boring into me.

“Are you stupid, girl?” Elder Corbin, the lines on his face deepened by the play of light and shadow, took a menacing step forward. “It’s your doing, Olivia. All of this is your doing. And this is only the beginning.”

“Enough, Corbin,” Amara intervened, her voice dripping with condescension. “Let her hear it from the beginning so she may grasp the full extent of her stupidity.”

Mingan nodded gravely, motioning with her hand for the others to give us space. “Last night, under the cover of darkness, Ryan’s followers crept into the square. They erected an effigy, crafted painstakingly from straw to resemble you, Olivia. Then, they set it alight.”

A cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach. “But why? What message were they trying to send?”

Amara scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious? To sow discord. To paint you as the villain. They wanted the town to turn against you, to blame you for the fire, to make them see that you’re the reason our square is in ruins. And you are.”

Corbin chimed in, his voice cold and unforgiving, “Many have suffered burns because of this chaos. Homes have been destroyed. All because you chose to defy Ryan, to keep his son from him.”

“You make it sound as if I took pleasure in this decision,” I retorted, tears stinging my eyes. “All I ever wanted was to protect my son from harm.”

“And what?” Amara asked, shooting me an angry glare. “Did you think that when the Alpha of the Redclaws threatened war, it would only be a game of chess? No, you dear, stupid child. This is only the beginning of a long string of misery that will not end until you hand that infant over to his father.”

As the bitter exchange continued, the backdrop painted a tragic scene.

The town square, once a place of joyful gatherings and festivals, was now a scene of devastation. I still remembered the press event I attended there with Nathan all those months ago, during our fake relationship. It had been so beautiful then, with blooming hydrangeas lining the walkways and large wooden arches adorned with wisteria.

Now, it was a charred wasteland.

The flames, though gradually being subdued, still leapt angrily towards the sky amongst the buildings on the far end of the square. Their orange and red tendrils licked the dark canvas of the night, creating an ominous backdrop for the silhouettes of the frantic villagers who continued to douse the flames.

Nearby, a once grand building, known for its elaborate woodwork and craftsmanship, was now a smoldering shell, consumed by the fire’s fury. Townsfolk rushed in and out, salvaging whatever they could, their faces contorted with panic.

Amongst the crowd, I could see Nathan running back and forth. Despite his lack of sleep, he ran gracefully and quickly, a bucket full of water gripped easily in each hand. He shouted orders to others, rallying their help.

Unlike me, he was the perfect epitome of a leader.

It should be him, I thought to myself, curling my fingers into a fist around the burnt straw in my hand. He should be the Ancient Wolf. Not me.

“You see?” Mingan hissed, gesturing to the wreckage and breaking my train of thought. “This was brought upon us by you. Because you simply refuse to understand the weight of your selfishness. Had you done as Ryan asked, none of this would have happened. You have ruined a century of peace, do you understand that?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Was this really all because of me? Would the entire town soon be burnt like this, all because of my refusal to give Elliot to his father?

Was my idiotic faith that Ryan would do the right thing, when he never had any intentions of such a thing, going to be my pack’s downfall?

Suddenly, amidst the chaos, a distraught scream rose above all other sounds. The Elders and I whipped around in the direction of the sound to see a woman, her hair disheveled and face smudged with soot. She was frantically looking around, her hands clenched into fists.

“My son! My baby boy!” she cried, her voice tinged with pure terror. “He’s still inside! Someone help!”

The square, previously abuzz with activity, fell silent for a heartbeat. All eyes turned to the burning structure, where the last remnants of flames danced menacingly.

The woman’s heart-wrenching sobs echoed in the night, a painful reminder of the disaster’s human cost.

Without hesitation, Nathan emerged from the wreckage and stepped forward, his face covered in soot.

“Stay back,” he ordered, his voice firm, his eyes locked onto the blazing building. “I’ll save your son.”

“Nathan, no!” I tried to grab him, my fingers brushing against his arm. The thick smoke that permeated the air stung my eyes, making them water, but my gaze remained locked on him. “You can’t! It’s too dangerous!”

He looked back, his usually calm eyes now filled with a fiery determination. “I have to, Olivia. I can’t stand idly by. What if it was Elliot or Aurora?”

The exchange was brief, but the emotion was intense. I could see the weight of the decision in his posture, the resolution in the set of his jaw.

“Promise me,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “promise me you’ll come back.”

Without giving a reply, Nathan extricated himself from my grip and sprinted towards the building, his silhouette merging with the thick black smoke and fiery orange flames.

I watched, my heart in my throat, as he disappeared into the inferno, leaving behind a square filled with anxious eyes, a burning building, and the uncertain fate of those within.