C8

"You're going to break your hand hitting the oak tree like that, Silverfang."

Lambert's voice comes cold and flat from the edge of the tree line.

I don't pause my sequence. I drive a hard back-fist into the splintered wood, my wolf roaring in my veins, feeding strength into my young body. Lambert stands in the shadows for ten full minutes, his sharp blue eyes tracking every lethal pivot, every military strike pattern of the Poseidon vanguard. He does not ask another question. He turns on his heel and disappears silently into the dark forest.

I keep striking until my knuckles bleed.

For the next two weeks, I live in total secret discipline. I train my body until my muscles scream, and I work with the ancient pulse inside my womb, teaching the pup's energy to form an invisible barrier around my mind, building an absolute immunity to silver poison. During the day, I play the complete fool. When Elizabeth sends instructors to evaluate my Luna posture, I spill tea on my silk skirts. When Micheal tries to converse with me in the dining hall, I stare blankly at my lap, stuttering nonsense until he rolls his eyes in utter disgust.

"She's completely useless," Micheal mutters loudly to his Beta at the center table, loud enough for half the academy to hear. "She's weak, boring, and has no backbone. I can barely stand looking at her."

The pack whispers behind their hands, mocking my loss of grace. I keep my head down, hiding the dark, wicked smile pulling at my lips. Let him think I am broken. Let him drop his guard completely.

The hammer falls on Friday morning.

Elizabeth enters the academy reception hall dressed in rich crimson velvet, surrounded by four royal guards. She slams a thick parchment scroll onto the wooden table in front of me, the red wax seal of the Bloodmoon Council glowing in the morning light.

"Sign it, Ada," Elizabeth commands, her voice dripping with absolute authority. "Micheal's father signed his portion an hour ago. You will become Micheal's official mate and future Luna in three months. Refusal means immediate execution for treason against royal pack law."

Micheal stands behind her, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at me with pure annoyance. He doesn't want me, but Elizabeth wants my noble bloodline to secure the pack's political claim before the council.

"I won't fight you, Elizabeth," I say softly, keeping my voice meek and trembling.

I reach out, pick up the feather quill, and press my signature firmly into the bottom line of the forced engagement contract.

Micheal sneers, stepping forward while pulling a heavy, carved diamond ring from his leather pouch. "Kneel then, placeholder. Let everyone see you accept your master."

I drop to my knees on the cold stone floor, extending my right hand toward him. Micheal smirks, sliding the heavy engagement ring onto my finger, preening for the guards standing around the hall.

The second the band settles against my skin, my fingers lock into a brutal fist.

I flex my wolf's raw, unsealed power into my hand. The heavy platinum band buckles under the terrifying force. With a loud, metallic crack, the rare diamond shatters into powder, and the thick metal ring collapses, crushed flat into a piece of worthless trash inside my grip.

Micheal jumps back, his face going completely pale as the shattered dust spills out between my fingers onto his boots. Elizabeth gasps, her hand flying to her throat as the guards draw their silver daggers.

I rise from the floor slowly, standing tall, staring straight into Micheal's terrified, wide eyes.

"I'll marry you, Micheal," I say, my voice ringing across the silent hall like a death sentence. "On the exact condition that you win the Blood Trials in front of the united pack elders."

Micheal's jaw drops. The Blood Trials are a brutal, lethal combat tournament reserved for high-ranking Alphas, where weapons are bare and killing is legal. I know for a fact he cannot win. I know he is a coward who relies on dark magic black stones to cheat his way through combat. He doesn't know I know.

"Are you insane?" Micheal stammers out, his voice cracking with sudden panic. "You think I can't win?"

"Prove it then, my sweet Alpha," I whisper, my bloodied knuckles dripping slightly onto the contract.

That night, I sit alone in the dark training courtyard behind the dorms. I take a small silver blade and slice a thin, shallow line across my left palm. Warm blood wells up, dripping onto the cold earth.

I press my hand against my stomach, feeling the ancient, powerful pulse of the pup answering my call.

"We play along until the right moment," I whisper softly into the dark night air, my wolf snarling in vicious agreement. "Then we burn everything they built to the ground."

I look up at the edge of the courtyard wall. A small, dark smile touches my lips—not a kind smile, but a promise of blood and ashes.

Sitting silently in the deep shadows of the stone archway is a tall woman wrapped in a black cloak. Her face is covered in faint, glowing silver scars, identical to the marks I carried in my past life. It is the exact same woman who sat at the bottom of the silver pool.

She stares at me through the dark. She nods once in cold approval, then vanishes into the night like smoke.

I wipe the blood from my palm onto my trousers, my heart beating steady and cold inside my chest.

At noon the next day, a royal courier on a white warhorse rides through the academy gates, blowing a loud brass horn that brings hundreds of students pouring out into the main courtyard. The courier unrolls a gold-embossed scroll, his voice booming across the stone arches.

"By order of the High Council!" the courier shouts. "The Bloodmoon engagement banquet will take place in three days! The special guest of honor will be the young Military Alpha Jackson Poseidon, making his first public appearance following his victory in the border war!"