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 training ground was still empty when we finished. Dust floated in the air, glowing softly in the late afternoon light. My body ached—but in a good way. It was the kind of pain that proved I was alive, strong, and in control of myself.Lucian walked beside me toward the pack house. Our steps matched naturally, our shoulders brushing now and then. We didn’t talk. The silence felt full, not uncomfortable. We had shared something important—not just training, but trust. We had pushed each other hard and learned we could still stand together afterward.At the edge of the courtyard, he stopped and turned to me.“You were incredible,” he said quietly. No flourish. Just truth.Heat warmed my cheeks—not embarrassment, but pride. “I surprised myself.”“You surprised the moon,” he said softly. He lifted his hand and wiped a streak of dirt from my cheek with his thumb. The touch lingered. “What you felt at the end—that power—that was the affinity waking. Not fully yet, but close. You felt it,
The midday sun shone over the training ground, bright and hot. The wide dirt circle lay empty except for us. Lucian had kept his word. Lucian had kept his promise. No warriors watching from the sidelines, no curious kids peeking through the fence. Just the hard ground, wooden weapon racks, and the distant call of birds drifting in from the trees. I stood in the center, rolling my shoulders and breathing slowly. This body felt familiar, yet new. The muscles remembered things I did not. I wore dark leather training clothes that fit close to my skin. A short sword hung at my hip, light and easy to hold. A dagger was strapped to my thigh. Nothing heavy. Nothing fancy. Just tools to test what this body could do. Lucian faced me across the circle, stripped down to a fitted black tunic and pants, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair was tied back, showing the sharp line of his jaw and that faint scar I’d traced the night before. He carried no weapon yet—hands loose at his sides, posture
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 and the lingering scent of cedar on the pillow.I lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling beams. The kiss from last night lingered on my lips like a secret. Not just the press of his mouth or the careful hunger—but the way it had felt safe. Wanted. Chosen.My wolf stirred inside me, calm and relaxed. For the first time, she felt settled, as if she had decided this life was worth staying in. The bond between Lucian and me was still faint, like a thin silver thread, but it was growing stronger each day.I got up and dressed in soft leathers and a dark green cloak. Then I slipped out through the side door. The air was cold and fresh. It smelled like pine trees and wet earth.I neede
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 touching now, the distance between us narrowed by small, unconscious shifts neither of us acknowledged aloud.I felt his warmth beside me. It was calm. Safe. His scent surrounded me—cedar smoke clinging from the fire, the clean bite of winter wind, something deeper and uniquely his. My wolf felt it too. She was no longer restless. She settled, peaceful, like she had finally found a place to rest.Lucian broke the silence, his voice low. “You surprised them tonight. You surprised me too.”“In a good way? I hope.”“The best way.” He turned to look at me. The firelight was fading, but I felt his eyes on my face. “You spoke from here.” He tapped his chest lightly. “Not from memory. Not from duty. J
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 longer weighed down by all we hadn’t said.As we neared the pack house, the sounds of life reached us—laughter spilling from open windows, the crackle of a bonfire being lit in the central courtyard, the low hum of voices preparing for nightfall. The pack was alive—breathing, moving, waiting.For me.Lucian slowed his steps. “They’ve been holding the welcome quietly,” he said. “No grand ceremony. Just a gathering. Food, fire, stories. If it’s too much—”“I want to go,” I said gently, cutting him off. The words surprised me as much as they seemed to surprise him. “Not as the Luna they remember. Just… as me. Whoever that is tonight.”He searched my face for a long moment. Then nodded, pride sof
The afternoon sun had begun its slow descent, bathing the garden in gold and stretching the shadows long across the grass. We still hadn’t moved from the bench. Lucian’s hand remained in mine, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles over my knuckles—a quiet, grounding rhythm neither of us acknowledged aloud.I sensed the change before I saw it. A subtle tightening in his shoulders. The way his gaze flicked toward the hedge line, sharp and alert, as though listening to something beyond my hearing.Alpha instincts. Always watching.“Someone’s coming,” he murmured, not releasing my hand.A moment later, footsteps crunched along the gravel path. Amira appeared at the edge of the clearing, moving quickly though clearly trying not to look rushed. Behind her trailed a young boy—no more than ten—cradling a small wooden box in both hands as if it held something precious, something sacred.Amira’s eyes found mine first. Relief flashed across her face, quickly followed by something sharper—worry.







