Ashes of the Broken Moon

Chapter One: The Runt of Bloodfang

The moonlight barely touched Lyra’s skin as she trudged through the woods, her arms aching under the weight of firewood. The crisp night air stung her cheeks, but she welcomed the burn—it reminded her she was still alive, even if the rest of her felt hollow.

Her cloak, thin and threadbare, flapped behind her like a worn flag of surrender. The rest of the pack had long since retreated into the warmth of the main lodge. Only she remained outside, given the thankless job of feeding the hearths after everyone else had eaten and drunk their fill.

Lyra was the omega of the Bloodfang Pack. Not just any omega, but the lowest of the low. A runt. A mistake.

Even among omegas, she was different—too quiet, too small, too weak to shift completely during the full moon. Her wolf was there, a whisper in the back of her mind, but fractured. The elders called her broken. Some whispered she should have died at birth.

Sometimes, Lyra wondered the same.

She passed the training grounds, where warriors had once sparred with blood and pride. Now the space lay empty, soaked in fading moonlight, like a forgotten memory. Her fingers tightened around the bundle of sticks. She used to dream of training there—of becoming something more than a burden. But dreams were dangerous things in Bloodfang. They made you soft. They made you visible.

And visibility brought pain.

As she reached the lodge, the scent of roasted meat hit her. Her stomach growled violently, but she ignored it. She’d eat tomorrow—maybe. If there were scraps. If Celeste didn’t “accidentally” dump them into the fire first.

The door creaked as she entered, bringing with her a chill the fire couldn’t melt. Conversations hushed. Heads turned.

Celeste sat in her usual place, draped in furs beside Alpha Kade—her smile sharp, eyes glittering with cruel amusement.

“Well, look who finally made it,” Celeste said sweetly, brushing a hand over Kade’s shoulder. “We were starting to think you froze to death out there.”

Lyra dropped the firewood near the hearth and knelt to arrange it. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the poker, but she didn’t answer. Any response would feed the flames—just like Celeste wanted.

Kade said nothing.

He never did anymore.

Once—just once—he had looked at her like she mattered. The day the Moon Goddess marked them as fated mates, his lips had brushed hers, and she felt the warmth of destiny stir in her chest. But everything changed after that.

Celeste made sure of it.

“Careful, Lyra,” Celeste cooed behind her. “Don’t burn yourself. Or do. You might be more useful as ash.”

A few warriors chuckled. Lyra bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.

Still, Kade said nothing.

She stole a glance at him. He sat tall, broad-shouldered, his black hair tied back, golden eyes cold and unreadable. The very sight of him used to quicken her pulse. Now it only brought a crushing ache.

She didn’t know when he stopped seeing her—when the mate bond dulled and his gaze turned to stone. Maybe it had been a slow bleed, or maybe it all shattered the first time Celeste cornered her alone.

"You're not meant to be his mate," Celeste had whispered, fingers wrapped around Lyra’s throat. "You're just the Moon Goddess’s mistake. But don’t worry, I’ll fix it."

Since then, every bruise, every false accusation, every silent punishment carved that truth deeper into her bones.

And tonight, something in the air felt different. Wrong.

When she finished, she stood slowly, turning to leave.

“Wait.” Kade’s voice froze her mid-step.

Her heart pounded. He rarely spoke to her in public now. She turned, eyes wide, uncertain.

He looked at her—not through her, not past her—but directly at her. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t read. Not warmth. Not anger.

Something heavier.

“You’ll attend the High Council Gathering tomorrow,” he said flatly. “Celeste will present a report. You’re to stand by her side.”

Lyra blinked, stunned. “Me?”

“She requested you personally.”

The room murmured. Even Celeste blinked in mock surprise—then smiled.

Something inside Lyra twisted, a warning flaring hot. Celeste never requested her for anything but torment. And the High Council was no small affair. It was a gathering of leaders, a place of law and punishment.

Why would she be summoned?

Before she could speak, Kade turned away, signaling the discussion was over.

The rest of the pack returned to their laughter. Lyra walked out of the lodge, every step heavy with dread. The wind howled louder than before. The moon, once her silent comfort, now seemed to watch with pity.

Something was coming.

She didn’t know it yet, but her life would burn to ash by dawn.

And from those ashes, something stronger would rise.