LOGINThe metallic scent of Jackson's blood still hung in the air as Larry released me from his grip, his silver eyes scanning the assembled pack with lethal precision. My legs trembled beneath me, threatening to give way, but I forced myself to remain standing. I couldn't show weakness now, not when every wolf in the circle was watching, waiting to see if their new Luna would crumble.
"Does anyone else," Larry's voice cut through the heavy silence like a blade, "wish to question my judgment?"
No one moved. No one spoke. Even Beta Marcus had dropped his gaze to the blood-stained earth, his earlier defiance extinguished like a candle in a hurricane.
Elder Catherine stepped forward first, her ancient joints creaking as she lowered herself to one knee. "Alpha," her weathered voice carried across the circle, "we acknowledge your strength and your right to choose. The Moon Goddess has spoken through you tonight."
One by one, the other Elders followed suit. Elder Thomas, who had lost two sons in the war my parents supposedly caused, knelt with visible effort. Elder Sarah, whose daughter had been among the casualties, pressed her fist to her heart in the traditional gesture of fealty. Even Elder Marcus, Beta Marcus's father, bent his knee, though his jaw remained tight with suppressed rage.
Through the mate bond, I felt Larry's grim satisfaction mixing with something darker. Pride, perhaps, or possessiveness. The emotions were so tangled I couldn't separate them.
"Rise," Larry commanded, and they obeyed. "The pack will accept Lyra Fenris as Luna. Not because I demand it, but because the Moon Goddess herself has decreed it. To reject her is to reject divine will."
"Divine will or divine punishment?" The voice came from the back of the crowd, young, male, reckless.
Larry's head snapped toward the speaker with predatory focus. "Step forward and repeat that."
A lanky wolf in his early twenties emerged from the crowd, his chin lifted in defiance despite the fear I could smell rolling off him. "I said, how do we know this isn't punishment? The Moon Goddess mating you to a traitor's daughter, maybe she's testing you. Maybe we're all supposed to reject this… this abomination."
The word hit me like a physical blow. Through the bond, I felt Larry's fury spike so violently it made my knees buckle. His hand shot out, gripping my elbow to steady me, and that simple gesture of support sent a ripple of shock through the assembled wolves.
"Your name," Larry demanded, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"Evan. Evan Storm." The young wolf's bravado was cracking. "My mother died in the Great War. My father, "
"Your father," Larry interrupted, "died because he was too slow to dodge a blade. Your mother died because she charged into battle without backup.”
Evan's face flushed crimson. "That's not what Beta Marcus said, "
"Beta Marcus," Larry turned his gaze to the older wolf, who suddenly looked like he wished the earth would swallow him whole, "has been spreading his own version of history. One that conveniently paints his failures as someone else's fault."
Marcus's jaw clenched. "Alpha, I only told the boy what we all believed to be true,"
"What you wanted to believe was true." Larry's voice could have frozen fire. "Things happened but this was in the past."
The crowd erupted into chaos. Wolves shouted over each other, some in outrage, others in confusion. I stood frozen, trying to process what Larry had just said. He was defending me, or at least, defending the truth. But why? He'd spent eight years torturing me for crimes he now seemed to be saying never happened.
"SILENCE!" Larry's Alpha command rolled over the crowd like a physical force, compelling obedience.
The clearing went deathly quiet.
"The past is complicated," Larry continued, his voice hard. "But the present is simple. Lyra is my mate. She is under my protection. And anyone who challenges that protection will share Jackson Reid's fate."
Through the bond, I felt his emotions shift again, a flash of something that might have been regret, quickly buried under layers of cold authority.
Elder Catherine cleared her throat delicately. "Alpha, if I may… the pack requires certain assurances. Tradition dictates that a new Luna must be formally acknowledged by the Elders, must swear the oath of loyalty, must, "
"Must be paraded around like a prize mare so you can all decide if she's worthy?" Zara's voice cut through the clearing like poisoned honey.
She emerged from the crowd, her emerald dress now spattered with dirt, her auburn hair wild around her face. But it was her eyes that caught my attention, burning with such hatred that I instinctively stepped closer to Larry.
"Zara." Larry's voice carried a warning. "This doesn't concern you."
"Doesn't concern me?" She laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. "I've stood by your side for three years, Larry. Three years of waiting, of being patient, of being exactly what this pack needed. And you throw me aside for her?"
"The mate bond isn't a choice, "
"Bullshit!" Zara spat, and several wolves gasped at her audacity. "You could reject it. You could choose duty over some cosmic joke. But instead, you kill Jackson, Jackson, who was loyal to you since you were children, all to protect a girl whose very existence is an insult to everything we've lost.
"
Larry's hand on my elbow tightened, and through the bond I felt his wolf surge forward, barely restrained. "Jackson challenged me. He died for it. That's the way of our people."
"He challenged you because you've lost your mind!" Zara's voice rose to a shriek. "Look at her, Larry! Really look at her! She's weak, she's broken, she's, "
"She's mine." The words came out as a growl, and I felt the possessiveness behind them through our connection. "And you're dismissed, Zara. Leave before I forget we were ever friends."
For a moment, I thought Zara might shift and attack. Her body trembled with barely contained rage, her eyes flickering between human and wolf. Then she spun on her heel and stalked away, but not before throwing one last venomous look in my direction.
"She's going to be a problem," Elder Thomas murmured, just loud enough for Larry to hear.
Let her try." Larry's voice was flat, final.
Elder Catherine stepped forward again, her expression carefully neutral. "Alpha, regardless of the… complications… tradition must be observed. Lyra Fenris must take the Luna's oath before the pack, must accept the responsibilities and burdens of leadership. Without the ceremony, her position will always be questioned."
Through the bond, I felt Larry's reluctance, his desire to simply command obedience and be done with it. But he was Alpha for a reason, he understood that some battles couldn't be won through force alone.
"Fine." He turned to me, his silver eyes unreadable. "Lyra will take the oath. In the next bloodmoon…"
The halls were too quiet that night.Too still.Too heavy with something I couldn’t name.After dinner, after Larry shattered the cup and stormed out, I stayed in my room pretending to read, pretending to breathe normally, pretending not to replay the scene a thousand times.Pretending not to imagine what he would do next…or who he would run to.The lamps burned low.The moonlight painted silver lines across the floor.Sleep avoided me as stubbornly as Larry avoided kindness.The silence unsettled me.Usually, I could hear Larry’s footsteps somewhere, his pacing, his muttering, his anger simmering through the walls.Tonight... nothing.No movement.No sound.No presence.I shouldn’t have cared.But the silence felt wrong.I sighed and pushed off the bed. “Just check,” I whispered to myself. “Just… see if he’s alive. That’s all.”That was the lie I told.I left my room quietly, closing the door with barely a click. The corridor was dim, candlelight flickering weakly against the stone
Dinner in the great hall always felt like a performance. Not a meal. Not a gathering. A stage built for power, politics, and silent wars. The long tables were already full when I entered. Warriors, elders, families. Eyes flicking up, pausing on me, then darting away as if looking too long would stain them. Zara sat beside Larry dressed like she owned the world, leaning close enough that her perfume clouded the air around him. She laughed at something he said, touching his arm with deliberate sweetness. He didn’t move away. He never moved away. I forced my lungs to work as I walked to my usual place further down, near the servants and lower-ranked wolves. It had become the only place where I could breathe. But I hadn’t even reached it when Larry’s voice cut across the hall. “Lyra.” Every conversation stilled. Every eye turned. Zara smiled like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. I lifted my chin. “Yes?” Larry gestured lazily to the empty spot in fron
LyraThe council chamber always felt colder than the rest of the pack house.Maybe it was the stone walls.Maybe the high ceiling that swallowed every whisper.Or maybe it was the way every pair of eyes always seemed sharpened, watching, weighing, waiting for someone to bleed.Today was no different.Except this time, I was the one standing in the center.The Elders sat in their semicircle, robes dark as storm clouds. Zara was off to the side near her family, smugness practically dripping off her like perfume. Larry stood near the head chair, arms crossed, gaze blank.Silent.Unmoving.Unhelpful.Elder Rowan tapped the butt of his staff against the floor. “Luna Lyra, we have called this assembly to assess your preparedness to fulfill your duties.”Preparedness.That dangerous word.I clasped my hands behind me. “I understand.”Zara stepped forward, voice sugar-coated. “The Luna plays an important role in upholding our customs. I’m sure Lyra won’t mind answering a few questions.”A few
The pup, whom I’d started calling “Ash”…slept curled beside my pillow, small chest rising and falling with delicate, uneven breaths. She was healing slowly, but she was healing.And somehow, taking care of her loosened something tight around my heart. I wasn’t whole, not even close, but the cracks didn’t feel as sharp when she was near.Still… I couldn’t stay locked in my room forever.I needed to breathe different air.I needed people who weren’t Larry or Zara.I needed something, anything to remind me that I wasn’t invisible here.So that afternoon, I made my way toward the servant quarters.Several maids were gathered near the laundry line, folding fresh linens. Their chatter ebbed the moment I approached, drifting off into awkward silence.A few bowed stiffly.A few looked at the ground.One walked away entirely, pretending she suddenly remembered a chore.I forced a gentle smile. “Good afternoon.”Two mumbled a quiet greeting.No one met my eyes.I stepped closer. “I wanted to ch
LyraI needed air.Real air. Quiet air. Air that didn’t smell like betrayal and whispered rumors and Zara’s perfume clinging to the walls like mold.So I slipped out of the pack house through the back corridor, past the cold stone, past the stares I pretended not to see, and into the open grounds behind the eastern training field.The sun was dipping low, staining the sky a bruised red. The wind brushed against my cheeks, sharp but cleansing. For the first time all day, I felt my lungs loosen.Just walk, Lyra.Walk until the ache dulls.The ground was still damp from morning rain, the grass cool beneath my shoes. I wrapped my cloak tighter around myself, letting the quiet settle into my bones.Silence was a strange comfort.It didn’t ask questions.It didn’t judge.It didn’t compare me to Zara.I kept walking past the stables, past the training pit where dried blood stained the sand, and into the small wooded area at the edge of the territory.Then I heard it…A sound so soft I almost
She gently pulled her hand free, the movement so smooth I couldn't have stopped it without truly hurting her."...am simply adjusting."The words felt like claws dragging slowly down my spine. Not quick and sharp like a clean wound. Slow and deliberate, leaving tracks that would scar."You think this is adjustment?" I heard myself say. "This silence? This distance?""It's peace.""You think ignoring me is peace?""No." She met my eyes fully, and for a moment the mask slipped just enough to show me the truth. "It's survival."The word hit like a physical blow.Survival.Not defiance. Not revenge. Not even conscious choice.Survival.The way prey learns to go still when the predator is near. The way wounded things find dark places to heal or die in peace.I was the thing she needed to survive.That realization, that understanding of how she saw me, how she'd been forced to see me, felt







