The horn tore through the night again.Not the crude, guttural call of rogues.This one was sharp, disciplined, and heavy with the weight of authority.Blood Moon.The sound sent a ripple through the clearing. The rogues froze mid-motion, snarls faltering into uneasy glances. Even their leader stiffened, his blade hovering above Julian’s chest. The sneer on his lips wavered, replaced with the instinctive fear of a pack that lived and killed in chaos—yet still knew the power of a trained army.My lungs seized. The horn meant salvation. Or damnation. Perhaps both.Julian coughed blood beside me, his hand pressing the gash across his chest. His sword lay abandoned in the dirt. The rise and fall of his breath was ragged, too shallow. If the horn hadn’t come, if the rogues had been given one more heartbeat—he would already be gone.I crawled to him, nails raking dirt and blood. "Stay with me," I whispered, my voice shaking. His skin burned hot under my palm, his blood seeping too fast betw
Julian.His name carved itself into my marrow.For a long second, I thought the wolfsbane was birthing another hallucination, that my mind, desperate and collapsing, had shaped his figure out of dusk and memory. Yet the crunch of his boots on soil, the sure weight of his breath, the measured way he cut through the clearing—it was no dream. It was him.My heart clenched, caught between relief and dread. Julian—the exile, the man who had once been my Beta, who had fought beside me when Moonveil still lived, when I still bore the Alpha mark. He had vanished with the fall of our pack, swallowed by the shifting loyalties that carved Moonveil into a grave. And now, impossibly, he stood before me."Elara." His voice was lower than I remembered, roughened by years of ash and exile, yet still carrying the command that had once steadied me. "Don’t move."A bitter laugh threatened my throat. As if I had the strength to move at all.He came closer. His blade whispered against rope and wood. Spark
I saw him before I heard him—an edge of movement at the fringe of my vision, a shadow where shadows did not belong. For a brief, impossible second I thought it was a trick of the wolfsbane-sick air, another phantom my mind conjured to soften the edge of fear. Then boots cracked through undergrowth, voices bellowed, and the world tilted.Kaelus rode in like a storm, cloak mud-splattered, sword flashing with a hunger. Behind him, Blood Moon soldiers fanned out like a dark tide, faces masked with rags and eyes hard as flint. They moved with a practiced cruelty I had known since the first winters—discipline without compassion. Yet as I scanned their ranks, a hollow pang struck me—Dareth was nowhere among them. His absence weighed heavier than their presence, a reminder that even the one shadow I might have trusted had been stripped from me.The thought burned sharper with every passing breath. Had Kaelus ordered him to stay behind, knowing his loyalty might waver? Or had Dareth chosen to
The ground bruised my body as they dragged me through the undergrowth, stones and roots tearing at my skin. Every breath I pulled tasted of soil and iron, thick with the musk of rogues. Chains bit into my wrists, tighter with every tug, the iron steeped in wolfsbane that burned like fire against my flesh. My wolf whimpered, scratching faintly at the corners of my mind, then fell silent again. Smothered. Unreachable.The forest floor seemed endless, every jagged stone branding itself into my body, every twist of a root stealing a shred of skin. I could feel my flesh splitting beneath the iron cuffs, skin wet and raw. Each heartbeat pumped poison deeper through me, like fire dripping slow into my veins. I wondered how long it would take before I simply stopped feeling anything at all—if the forest itself would drink me dry before the rogues ever let me go.Beside me, Chloe stumbled, her cloak torn, hair tangled with leaves. She screamed Kaelus’ name over and over, like a litany, like a
The horn split the night again, shriller, closer.Dareth swore under his breath, already pulling me toward the door. "We have to get you to safety—""No." My voice sliced the air sharper than I intended, though inside I felt more fragile than glass. My wolf stirred weakly in my chest, scratching at the hollow cage of my ribs, but the strength I once knew—the strength of an Alpha—remained muted, asleep, unreachable.Dareth’s grip tightened. "Luna, listen. You’re not at full strength—""I know," I hissed, forcing myself free. "But I won’t run while the rogues are here. Not again."His jaw locked, eyes burning with the same stubbornness that mirrored mine. For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then the third blast of the horn thundered through the palace walls, shaking the floor beneath us. The sound was closer, urgent, like a warning too late.From the hall came hurried footsteps—Chloe, clutching her cloak around her thin frame. Her face was pale, but her eyes… they darted between me and Da
The steel handle rattled. My breath caught as the sound of the lock turning echoed in the silence. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to disappear into the shadows before the door opened and swallowed me whole. But my body… refused to move. My legs were frozen, my hand still pressed against the damp stone wall, fingers trembling with the weight of truth that had just poisoned my veins.My ears rang with the sound of my own blood in that moment. The corridor felt impossibly narrow, even the air seemed to lean away from me, unwilling to carry the confession that had just arrived like a blade. For a second I only existed as reaction—a tightened throat, a fist that would not unclench, a body that refused to obey the simplest command of flight.He ordered it.The words settled over me like a verdict. Not rumor. Not a rumor twisted by someone else’s malice—his command. The syllables rearranged the architecture of my life. Every promise he had ever touched became suspect. Images I had sto