LOGINThe sound of celebration crashed over me like waves, threatening to pull me under.
I sat stiffly in the Luna's chair, my hands gripping the armrests so tightly my knuckles had gone white. Around me, the pack celebrated—drinking, laughing, congratulating Selene as she basked in the attention she'd always craved. My attention. My position. My mate. Kieran stood beside Selene now, his hand resting on her lower back in a gesture of protection and possession that should have been mine. Through the mate bond, I felt his satisfaction, his relief, his hope for the future. A future that didn't include me. "A toast!" Elder Thorne raised his glass, his weathered face creased with real joy. "To Selene Greyson, mother of the next Alpha! May the Moon Goddess bless her and the child she carries!" “To Selene!” everyone shouted. I lifted my own glass automatically, the crystal trembling in my grip. The wine tasted bitter, like dust on my tongue. Selene caught my eye across the room and smiled—that same soft, sympathetic smile that had fooled me for years. But now I could see the planning behind it, the cold triumph of a predator who'd successfully taken down her prey. "Elara." Kieran's voice pulled me from my dark thoughts. He'd returned to the platform, standing close enough that I could smell his familiar scent—pine and earth and something uniquely him. Something that had once meant home and safety and love. Now it just made me feel sick. "Yes, Alpha?" The formal address slipped out before I could stop it, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. Hurt, maybe? Or guilt? "I wanted to thank you," he said quietly. "For being here. For handling this with such grace. I know it can't be easy." Can't be easy. As if watching my mate celebrate another woman's pregnancy was not just an inconvenience. As if my heart wasn't being torn apart piece by piece. "Of course," I said, my voice empty of emotion. "Anything for the pack." He studied my face for a long moment, and I wondered what he saw there. The girl who'd loved him since she was seventeen? The Luna who'd tried so hard to be what he needed? Or just the broken shell of someone who'd lost everything that mattered? "Elara—" he started, but whatever he meant to say was cut off by Selene's appearance at his side. "Kieran, the elders want to discuss preparations for the birth ceremony." Her hand slipped into his with practiced ease, and she looked up at him with adoring eyes. "And I'm feeling a bit tired. Could we leave soon?" The concern that crossed his face was immediate and genuine. "Of course. You should rest. The baby—" "The baby is fine," she assured him, placing his hand over her stomach. "But I do need to be careful. For the pack's sake." I wanted to vomit. Instead, I stood, my movements graceful despite the chaos raging inside me. "I think I'll go to bed as well. It's been a long evening." Kieran looked like he wanted to object, but Selene squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to her. "That's probably for the best. You do look rather pale, Elara. Are you feeling alright?" The false concern in her voice made my wolf snarl inside me, but I kept my expression neutral. "I'm perfectly fine. Just tired." I walked down the platform before anyone could stop me, moving through the crowd with my head held high. Pack members parted before me, their eyes following my retreat with expressions ranging from pity to satisfaction. The weak Luna, finally being put in her place. Let them think what they want. I'd learned long ago that dignity was sometimes all you had left when everything else had been taken away. "Elara, wait." Dariaus caught up with me in the hallway outside the great hall, away from watching eyes and listening ears. "Are you alright?" "No." The admission came out flat and honest. There was no point in lying to my brother. "But I will be. Eventually." He pulled me into a quiet corner, his face marked with concern and something else—something that looked almost like guilt. "I should have warned you sooner. About Selene. About all of this." "Would it have changed anything?" I leaned against the cold wall, feeling the fight drain out of me. "Kieran made his choice. He chose her. He chose the possibility of an heir over... over me." "He's a fool," Dariaus said fiercely. "And if I were Alpha, I'd never—" He cut himself off abruptly, jaw clenching. I looked at him more closely, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands had curled into fists. "Dari? What's wrong?" "Nothing." But he wouldn't meet my eyes. "I just hate seeing you hurt. That's all." Before I could press him further, a wave of dizziness washed over me. I swayed, catching myself against the wall as the world tilted sickeningly. "Elara!" Dariaus caught my arm, steadying me. "What's wrong?" "I don't know." I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to clear the sudden fog that had come over my thoughts. "I just feel... strange." The nausea hit next, sudden and overwhelming. I pushed away from Dariaus and barely made it to a nearby corner before my stomach rebelled, emptying what little I'd eaten that evening. "I'm getting Dr. Matthias," Dariaus said, already moving toward the hallway. "No." I straightened, wiping my mouth with shaking hands. "I'm fine. It's just stress. The announcement, the celebration—it's too much." But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true. This felt different. Familiar in a way that made my heart race with impossible hope. "You're not fine." Dariaus studied me with worried eyes. "When's the last time you ate properly? Slept through the night?" I couldn't remember. The past few weeks had been a blur of anxiety and heartbreak, watching Kieran drift further away while Selene moved in to take what was mine. "Come on." Dariaus wrapped an arm around my waist, supporting my weight. "Let's get you to your room. You need rest." We made our way through the corridors slowly, avoiding the main halls where the celebration continued. As we climbed the stairs to the residential wing, another wave of nausea hit, this one accompanied by a strange pulling sensation low in my stomach My heart raced.. “No…” It couldn't be. "Dari," I whispered, my hand moving unconsciously to my stomach. "I need to see Dr. Matthias. Now." Something in my voice must have convinced him because he didn't argue.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 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
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
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
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







