Chapter 6

Lucian came to the west cabin the next morning.

“I’m leaving for the northern border,” he said. “I’ll be gone a few days.”

His gaze dropped to my bandaged hands, then moved away.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

He reached into his coat and placed a small jar beside the door.

“The healer made this. It’s the strongest ointment we have.”

I picked it up. “Thank you.”

Lucian remained in the doorway, as if he were waiting for me to say more. Perhaps he expected gratitude. Perhaps he wanted me to understand that bringing medicine meant he cared, even if he had been the one to send me here.

I gave him nothing else.

At last, he turned and walked down the gravel path.

I watched until he disappeared between the trees.

Then I set the ointment on the windowsill beside an old hunting knife. My father had given me the knife years ago, before I came to Bloodmoon.

I ran my thumb over the worn handle and slipped it inside my coat.

By the following morning, a rumor had spread through the compound.

Before the Moon Goddess named Lucian as my fated mate, I had supposedly been involved with a young warrior from the north. Some claimed we had been days away from choosing each other. Others said I kept a handmade wrist guard he had given me and stared at it whenever Lucian was gone.

The details changed each time the story was repeated.

That did not matter.

By noon, everyone in Bloodmoon was talking about the man I had allegedly loved before their Alpha.

Seraphina summoned me that afternoon.

“You have some nerve,” she said when I entered the hall. “Lucian has been gone for one day, and the whole compound is talking about your former lover. Were you so desperate for a man that you couldn’t even wait for your Alpha to cross the border?”

I straightened my back. “A rumor isn’t evidence.”

“Isn’t it?”

She crossed the room until her face was inches from mine.

“People have seen the wrist guard. They know it isn’t Bloodmoon work. When Lucian returns, I’ll make you tell us who gave it to you.”

“Lucian won’t punish me.”

Seraphina laughed.

Then she grabbed my hair and jerked my head back.

“Why? Because you gave birth to his children? Do you honestly think that means he cares about you?”

Her fingers tightened.

“I bled beside him while you were still filling journals with his name. I took silver meant for his heart. He looks at you and sees a useful bloodline. A body that can give him heirs. Nothing more.”

I waited until she finished.

Then I smiled.

“I would never compare myself to what you and Lucian survived together.” My voice remained calm. “But I found something interesting in the old succession records.”

Her grip loosened slightly.

“Lucian’s grandfather fought beside his Luna to claim this territory. When he was wounded, she kept the pack alive through an entire winter. Their bond became a legend in the north.”

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed.

“Years later, he brought home another woman. She gave him two sons. He placed one under the Luna’s name, just as you did with mine.”

I watched the understanding reach her.

“When the second son challenged the Luna’s biological child for the Alpha title, the pack nearly tore itself apart. The elders exiled the other woman, but it didn’t save the Alpha’s marriage. His Luna never forgave him.”

Color drained from Seraphina’s face.

“History has a way of repeating itself,” I said. “Even legendary love can rot when children and succession are involved.”

My gaze dropped briefly to her stomach before returning to her face.

“And both of Lucian’s children are mine.”

Her hand fell from my hair.

“Maybe he’ll decide he should check on their mother once in a while.”

“Shut up!”

Her scream rang through the hall.

Every guard turned toward us.

“Lock her in the west cabin. Board every door and window. No food. No water. No one goes near her until she crawls out and begs me for mercy.”

Two guards seized my arms.

I did not resist.

They dragged me across the gravel and through the dead grass, then threw me into the cabin. The door slammed behind me.

A wooden bar dropped into place.

Then came the first strike of a hammer.

Nails drove through the frame one after another until there was no way to open the door from inside.

Night fell.

The compound went quiet.

A dark figure moved past the back of the cabin.

A moment later, flames erupted along the outer wall.

Heat scorched my skin. Thick smoke poured through the cracks, burning my throat and filling my eyes with tears.

“Fire!” someone shouted outside.

As the warning cries spread through the compound, I smiled through my tears.

The flame caught at once.

Fire raced along the oil and climbed the dry wooden wall. Smoke pushed through the cracks within seconds. Flames rolled across the ceiling.

“Fire!” someone shouted outside.

The pack alarms began to ring. Guards ran toward the west grounds, but by the time they reached the cabin, the roof was already collapsing.

No one could get inside.

The next morning, Lucian was reviewing patrol reports at the northern outpost when his Beta burst into the room.

The man’s face was gray.

“Alpha, there was a fire at the compound.”

“Riona is dead.”