Chapter 2

I clutched the rusty key to the spare guest room. I walked into the council chamber.

Tonight was the drafting of the Alliance Strategic Map.

It was an ancient tradition. The chosen Luna must draw the pack borders to prove her strategic mind to the Elders' Council. It showed she had the real capability to assist the Alpha in ruling the packs.

For the first nine times, I never bothered to participate.

I was a pureblood white wolf. I thought my fated bond with Ronan meant I didn't need to prove anything to anyone.

My status was untouchable.

But this time, I sat at the drafting table.

Bianca wanted to beat me so badly? She wanted to steal my crown?

Fine. I would show her.

I would show her that the Supreme Luna's throne required real capability and strategy. It wasn't something she could win with cheap tricks and crocodile tears.

Across the hall, Bianca was staring at a blank piece of leather, shaking.

She was the one Ronan just crowned.

So, the Elders demanded to see her competence.

But she was just a weak Omega.

She knew nothing about pack borders or rogue territories. She was failing miserably.

A few hours later, the midnight review began.

Ronan sat in the head seat. He frowned at the leather map Bianca handed in.

It was full of mistakes. Even the basic watchtowers were marked wrong.

"Ronan, I’m sorry..." Bianca’s eyes went red. She bit her lip and choked out a sob. "I’m so stupid. I can’t do anything right..."

A heavy look of pity flashed in Ronan’s eyes.

"It’s okay. I’m here."

He stood up and walked straight to my desk.

Without a second of hesitation, he snatched my detailed map. The one I had spent half the night bleeding over.

He stamped Bianca’s name right over my signature.

I shot up from my seat. My fingertips throbbed with sharp pain.

"Ronan! That is my map!" I snapped.

Bianca hid behind him. A smug smile touched her lips, but her tone was innocent. "Lyra, my hand is hurt. I can’t draw well. You are so amazing, just treat it as helping me out."

Ronan shoved my map into Bianca’s arms. He gave me a look of pure charity.

"Just draw another one. How hard can it be?" he said dismissively.

I stared dead at him.

The last tiny spark of hope in my eyes burned to ash.

I blinked back the sting in my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Fine."

I sat back down. In the dim firelight, I pulled out a fresh piece of leather. I started drawing again, fighting through the pain.

The hall slowly emptied.

Half an hour later, Ronan came back.

He placed a jar of rare herbal salve on my desk. He reached for my red, raw fingers.

"Don’t blame me for being biased," he lowered his voice. His tone carried a dominant need for control. "I owe Bianca my life. I have to make it up to her."

I jerked my hand back. I let out a cold laugh.

"Saved your life? How?"

Ronan’s face stiffened. "Three years ago. The brutal war with the rogues. I was dying. She carried me out of a pile of corpses."

My stomach churned. His stupidity was a joke. I almost laughed out loud.

"Three years ago, our strongest warriors died! She is a weak Omega! She can barely shift! She had no place on that battlefield!"

I stared right into his eyes. My voice trembled. "I pulled you out of that freezing river! I took a rogue’s hidden blade for you! I carried you out of that bloodbath!"

Ronan’s pupils shrank sharply.

Before I could say another word, Bianca’s crying voice came from the door.

"Lyra..."

Bianca stared at us. Her face was covered in tears. Her eyes were full of despair.

"It’s bad enough you took back my room and my title..." she clutched her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. "Are you going to take away the only life-saving bond Ronan and I have left?"

She shook her head pitifully, backing away.

"Forget it. Ronan loves you. He won’t believe me anyway!"

With that, she turned and ran crying into the night.

Ronan’s face changed completely. He dropped my wrist like it burned him.

"Bianca!"

He ran after her without a second thought.

The jar of herbal salve shattered onto the floor. The sweet-smelling salve looked totally pathetic on the cold stone.

My wrist shook with pain. I picked up the charcoal pen again. I quietly drew my map in the firelight.

I stayed awake all night.

The next morning, the Blessing of the Goddess officially began.

By tradition, as a pureblood, I had to stand at the head altar.

But when I got there, I saw Bianca. She wore a grand white ceremonial robe. She stood weakly in my spot.

Ronan stood right beside her like her protector.

"Lyra, step aside," Ronan ordered. "Bianca suffered a lot last night. Let her take the head altar today."

I watched this ridiculous farce.

Step aside?

"Nobody takes my place!"

I stepped forward. My gaze was like a knife. I raised my hand and shoved Bianca hard on the shoulder.

"Ah—" Bianca screamed. She stumbled back into Ronan’s arms.

I dusted my hands off. I returned to the head altar and looked down at them.

Ronan’s face turned pitch black. I completely ignored him. I turned my back.