LOGINThe silence that followed Diamond’s admission was heavier than the forest itself. It was a silence that carried the weight of a thousand expectations, now crushed into the dirt beneath Zara’s paws. In the physical world, the white wolf stood frozen, a statue of ivory fur against the dark loam, but inside, a tempest was raging. ‘No,’ Diamond finally admitted with a heavy, leaden regret. ‘He isn’t anywhere in the vicinity. There is no scent of him, no echo of his spirit. I can’t find his wolf to confirm, Zara. Not even a lingering trail from the morning.’ Zara suppressed a scream of anguish. If she were still human, she would have fallen to her knees, her hands clutching at the mossy earth until her nails bled. This was the nightmare she hadn't allowed herself to fully imagine, the dark, cold shadow that had lingered behind every wish for the last six months. She had been so
“Easy, both of you,” King Atticus’s voice cut through the mounting tension like a blade. It wasn't a request, it was an authoritative command that vibrated in the marrow of their bones. He adjusted the cuff of his formal jacket, his eyes as cold and steady as a winter moon. “We have exactly five minutes until the clock strikes midnight. The moon is reaching its zenith, and the spirits of the ancestors are waking. It is time to get Zara and escort her to the clearing for her first shift. We will not have this moment tainted by squabbling.” Accompanied by the silent, towering figures of Arthur and Walther, Atticus began his descent. The grand staircase, carved from dark ancient oak and polished to a mirror sheen, seemed to groan under the collective weight of their power. As they reached the mezzanine, the vibrant energy of the feast below began to dissolve. The lively orchestral music died, the notes trailing off into a
King Atticus and Queen Anne stood on the high stone balcony, flanked by former King Arthur, Princess Jass, and her mate, the retired Chief Warrior Walther. From their elevated vantage point, they looked down at the courtyard, watching the swirling colors and hearing the raucous laughter of the pack's youth. To the teenagers below, it was the party of the century. To the Royals above, it was a vigil. They all knew Zara was vibrating with anticipation, her eyes constantly darting toward the Palace gates in search of Petric. But the mood on the balcony was somber. Royal Intelligence had been scouring the territories for weeks, and they hadn't found so much as a stray scent or footprint of the lost future Alpha of Blue Moon. There was zero indication that Petric was anywhere near the Kingdom. “Atticus, you and Arthur need to be ready to catch her when the clock strikes twelve and Petric is still a no-show. She’s built a godda
The Luna tilted her head, her expression unreadable. She gave a nod that felt more like a physical reflex than a sign of agreement, it lacked any real conviction. A cold, sharp gust of wind swept across the tarmac, catching her hair and whipping it across her face like a lash. She didn’t blink. She didn't even flinch. “It’s a possibility,” she answered slowly, her words meticulously neutral, though her eyes remained as hard and unforgiving as flint. "But remember, Zara, hope can be a beautiful thing, or it can be the very thing that bleeds you dry. Don't let a fantasy blind you to the reality standing right in front of you." Zara absorbed the words as though they had landed like a punch. That 'possibility' felt like a hollow bone tossed to a starving dog. For a fleeting second, the mask of the doting, affectionate Auntie slipped, revealing the cold-blooded strategist hidden underneath the silk and perfume
Still in Blue Moon … Emile stared intently at Margie, his Alpha instincts screaming a warning that vibrated deep in his chest. Something was wrong, so wrong it made the hairs along his arms prickle. She was too calm, unnervingly so, as if she had rehearsed this moment long before he stepped into the room. It wasn't just the lack of panic, it was the clinical precision of her movements, the way she smoothed her skirt as if they were discussing the weather rather than their missing heir. Margie knew more about their son's disappearance than she let on, he could see it in the way she didn't meet his eyes with the expected spark of shared concern. Mother and son had always been close, as her only pup, she had spoiled Petric immensely. She had been his confidante, his shield against Emile’s stricter expectations, and yet here she was, acting as if he had simply gone on a weekend hiking trip. Yet, Petric had man
“Jace, have you heard anything from Petric yet?” Zara’s soft voice was barely a whisper, yet Beta Jace flinched as if struck. It was the exact same question, posed with the same tightly coiled hope, that she had relentlessly asked him, Luna Margie, or anyone who would listen for the past six months. The answer, inevitably delivered with only a long, sorrowful silence or a slow shake of the head, remained unchanged. And so did the deep, stabbing grief that momentarily extinguished the brilliant Lycan sparkle in her eyes. For a heartbeat, she sat there suspended in that ache, exposed, fighting the familiar sting that never seemed to dull. Her disappointment was honestly the most painful duty for the Alpha couple and the Beta. But the Princess had never been one to let her sorrow spill into the pack’s daily rhythm. With a quiet inhale, she gathered the frayed edges of herself, smoothing her expression into something steadier







