LOGINThe great hall was bright and loud as night came.
I stood in front of my mirror, dressed in the formal gown Kieran had sent to my room an hour ago—deep blue silk that matched my eyes, with light blue and silver embroidery along the bottom. Luna's dress for Luna's humiliation. My hands shook as I put on the silver necklace Kieran gave me on our mating night. It felt like it was choking me. "You don't have to wear that," Dariaus said from where he leaned against the doorframe, watching me with worried eyes. He'd stayed with me all afternoon, a silent guard against the coming storm. “Yes, I do,” I replied. "I'm still Luna. I still have my dignity, even if that's all I have left." The words tasted like poison, but I forced them out anyway. Dignity. What a worthless thing to hold on to when your world was falling apart. Through the mate bond, I could feel Kieran's impatience growing. He wanted me downstairs. Wanted me to play my part in this fake show he'd created. The dutiful first Luna, graciously accepting her replacement. "Elara." Dariaus crossed the room and placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him. "You don't have to be strong right now. Not with me." That almost broke me. I blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall. If I started crying now, I'd never stop. "I have to be strong for everyone," I whispered. "It's what Lunas do, isn't it? We smile and endure and pretend everything is fine even when our hearts are breaking. Even when our mates—" My voice cracked. "Even when they choose someone else." Dariaus hugged me tightly, and for a moment, I let myself be small again. Let myself be the little girl who'd held her brother at their parents' funeral, who'd believed that as long as they had each other, everything would be alright. But we weren't children anymore, and some things couldn't be fixed with a hug. "I should have stopped this," Dariaus said against my hair, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm his beta. I should have talked him out of it, should have made him see—" "It wouldn't have mattered." I pulled back, wiping at my eyes carefully to avoid ruining the makeup I'd applied with trembling hands. "He doesn't want me anymore. He hasn't wanted me since..." Since I lost our baby. Since my body failed him. The mate bond pulled again, more demanding this time. Kieran was getting angry at my delay. "We should go," I said, straightening my shoulders. "The Alpha is waiting." The walk down to the great hall felt like walking to my death. Pack members stood along the hallway, all dressed in their best clothes, their eyes following me with looks ranging from pity to curiosity to barely hiding pleasure at my pain. The weak Luna, finally being replaced by someone stronger. Someone who could give the Alpha what he needed. The doors to the great hall stood open, warm light and laughter spilling out into the corridor. I paused at the entrance. Darius stood behind me. The hall was packed with nearly every member of the Silvercrest pack. They stood in groups, drinks in hand, voices raised in celebration. At the far end, on the raised platform where the Alpha and his inner circle usually sat, Kieran stood talking with several elders. And beside him, glowing in a gown of pale gold, stood Selene. My heart skipped She looked beautiful—more beautiful than I'd ever seen her. Her dark hair fell in shining waves down her back, and her hand rested protectively over her still-flat stomach. The gesture was so deliberately motherly it made me want to scream. As if sensing my gaze, she looked up. Our eyes met across the crowded hall, and for just a moment, her mask dropped. I saw the triumph there, the cruel satisfaction of someone who'd gotten everything she'd ever wanted. Then she smiled, soft and sympathetic, like the friend I once trusted. "Elara!" She left Kieran's side and walked toward me, arms open as if for a hug. "I was so worried you wouldn't come. Are you feeling alright? I know this must be difficult for you." Difficult. Such a small word for the complete destruction of everything I'd built my life around. "I'm fine," I said, my voice flat. I stepped back before she could touch me, some instinct warning me away. "Congratulations on your... news." Her hand moved to her stomach again, the gesture already becoming familiar. Possessive. "Thank you. I know it's complicated, but I hope you can be happy for us. For the pack. An heir is what we all need right now." Us. As if she and Kieran were a unit now, and I was the outsider looking in. "Elara." Kieran's voice cut through the noise of the celebration, drawing every eye in the hall to us. He stood at the edge of the platform now, his silver eyes fixed on me with an intensity that might have thrilled me once. Now it just made me feel empty. I moved forward on numb legs, Dariaus falling back to join the other pack members. Kieran watched me approach, his expression unreadable. When I reached him, he took my hand—a gesture of unity that felt like a mockery. Through the bond, I felt nothing but cool distance. "Thank you for coming," he said formally, as if I were a guest at my own execution. "I know this hasn't been easy." Easy. Another word that meant nothing in the face of betrayal. He led me to the platform, and I took my place in the Luna's chair—a position I'd held for four years, now ruined by the knowledge that I was only here on borrowed time. Selene followed, standing just below the platform, her eyes bright with excitement. Kieran raised his hand, and the hall fell silent. All eyes turned to their Alpha, waiting for the announcement everyone already knew was coming. "My pack," Kieran began, his voice carrying easily through the space. "Tonight, we celebrate a new beginning for Silvercrest. A promise of the future we've all been hoping for." My nails dug into the arms of my chair, but I kept my expression neutral. Proud. The perfect Luna. "As you know, the strength of a pack lies not just in its warriors, but in its bloodline. In the heir who will one day lead us." His gaze swept across the gathered wolves. "I am pleased to announce that Selene Greyson carries my child. The future Alpha of Silvercrest." The hall exploded with cheers and applause. And my world finally broke.The room they prepared for him was quiet and warm, lantern light low against the walls, the smell of Hessa’s medicinal herbs already sharp in the air by the time we arrived.Lucian sat on the edge of the bed without complaint, which told me more about how much pain he was in than any expression would have. He didn’t sit still when he wasn’t hurting. He paced, he stood at windows, he found reasons to stay upright. Stillness, for him, was a concession.I stood close but didn’t hover. I had learned the difference.Hessa worked efficiently and without commentary, cleaning the cut at his temple with movements that were precise and unhurried, the practiced ease of someone who had done this a hundred times and found nothing in it to be unsettled by.Lucian didn’t flinch.Not once.Only the slight tightening at his jaw gave anything away.“The wounds are not severe,” Hessa said finally, straightening. “Rest and time. A few days and he’ll be functional again.”The relief that moved through me
For a moment, everything went still.Not quiet —Still.Like the world had drawn a breath and forgotten to release it.Attacked.The word sat in the centre of my chest, perfectly motionless, while everything around it moved too fast.My pulse stumbled. Then picked up — too hard, too quick, the rhythm of something that had been frightened before it had time to prepare."How bad?" Amira asked. Her voice had changed completely — all lightness gone, sharp and direct in the way of someone who knew how to function inside bad news.The guard hesitated.Just a fraction of a second.But I felt it."They didn't say," he replied. "Only that the Alpha is on his way back with his escort."Not an answer.Which was its own kind of answer."Is he injured?" I asked.My voice came out steady. Level. I didn't know how.The guard glanced at me — briefly, carefully, the look of someone weighing what a Luna needed to hear against what she was asking to hear."There were no details given, Luna," he said fin
“Mila?”Amira’s hand landed lightly on my shoulder.I hadn’t heard her approach.I flinched anyway.“Hey.” Her voice dropped slightly. “What’s wrong?”I blinked, the room snapped back into focus around me—the shelves, the table, the quiet weight of the library pressing in from all sides.“Nothing,” I said quickly.Too quickly.Amira didn’t look convinced.Her gaze lingered on my face, searching, like she was trying to piece together something I hadn’t said out loud.“You’ve gone the color of old parchment.”“I’m fine,” I added, softer this time. “I just… need some air,” I said, stepping back slightly. “It’s warm in here.”That wasn’t true.The room was cool.But the words were already out.Amira studied me for another second, then nodded.“Okay,” she nodded. “Come on then.”We left the library.Outside, the air felt sharper.Cooler.I exhaled slowly as we stepped away from the pack house, the open space easing the tightness in my chest just enough to let me breathe properly again.But
The room felt different in the morning.Not emptier, exactly. Just — quieter in a way that had a shape to it. I lay on my side for a while, looking at nothing in particular, listening to the pack house settle into its morning sounds. Footsteps in the corridor. Distant voices. The particular creak of the building finding itself in the early light.He had left before dawn.I hadn’t heard him go, which was somehow worse than if I had. No footsteps, no door, no moment to mark. Just the night, and then the morning, and the space between them where he had been.I’ll be back before you miss me.I pressed my face briefly into the pillow.I had missed him immediately. Exactly as promised.I sat up, pushed my hair back, and told myself firmly that this was not something to be dramatic about. He had gone to finalize an alliance. He would return in a few days. I was a grown woman inhabiting the body of a powerful Luna in a pack that had shown me nothing but kindness.I was fine.I was completely
I looked at him. At the question still sitting in the air between us, unanswered and patient. “Where did you learn to move like that?” I let out a slow breath and glanced down at my hands — still holding the sword, knuckles faintly dusty from the dirt. “I don’t know,” I admitted. The words felt strange in my mouth. Honest. But incomplete. “Maybe the cave changed something. Or maybe—” I paused. “Maybe the moon goddess decided I needed something back.” Lucian was quiet for a moment, turning that over. Then, unexpectedly, the seriousness in his face gave way to something warmer. “You were incredible,” he said simply. I blinked. “I surprised you?” I asked. “You did.” His tone was calm and certain. “I’ve sparred with warriors who’ve trained their whole lives and they don’t move the way you just moved.” He tilted his head slightly. “That last move — ducking under the strike, sweeping my legs — that wasn’t training. That was instinct.” “I surprised myself too.”
The midday sun burned bright over the training grounds.Heat shimmered faintly above the wide dirt circle, the air dry and still except for the distant call of birds from the forest beyond. The space was empty—just as Lucian had promised.No warriors watching.No curious eyes.No distractions.Just us.I stood in the center, rolling my shoulders slowly, drawing in a steady breath.This body felt… right.Not fully mine. Not fully hers.But something in between—something learning itself.The muscles carried memory where my mind did not. Strength coiled beneath my skin, quiet and waiting.I wore dark leather training clothes, fitted and light. A short sword rested easily at my hip, a dagger strapped to my thigh.Nothing heavy.Nothing ceremonial.Just enough to test what I could do.Lucian stood across from me.Black tunic. Sleeves rolled. Hair tied back.The sharp line of his jaw caught the light—and that faint scar I had traced the night before.Something about that made my chest tight
The garden path wound deeper, away from the house, until the tall hedges gave way to a small clearing ringed by ancient willows. Their long branches draped low, forming a natural canopy that filtered the sunlight into soft, shifting patterns across the grass. At the center sat a stone bench, worn s
The fire had burned down to glowing embers by the time the last of the pack drifted away. Laughter still echoed faintly from the far side of the courtyard, but here, near the ivy-covered wall, the night felt private, like the world had stepped away.Lucian and I remained on the bench, shoulders tou
Morning came quietly. Mist moved through the trees like soft smoke. I woke before the sun rose. The pack house was still silent.Lucian was not beside me. His place in the bed was empty, but still warm. He’d slipped out sometime in the night for patrol, leaving only the faint imprint of his warmth
Evening settled over Nightshade like a soft blanket, the sky changed from gold to deep blue. We left the garden as the first stars pierced the deepening blue, faint pinpricks of light trembling into view. Lucian walked beside me, our steps slow and calm, the silence between us no longer heavy—no lo







