LOGINCORALINA'S POV
After a long time, I sleep without being haunted by dreams.
I wake up to silence. The bedroom is filled with bright sunlight, and I realise with surprise that I've slept for almost twelve hours straight.
Ignoring the pending messages and calls, I roll out of bed and step in for a shower. I'm making coffee and scrambled eggs for breakfast when my phone screen lights up again.
It’s the ‘family’ group chat, with Maximus, Brielle and me– their third wheel.
Brielle’s message glows there, posted an hour ago.
[Good morning, all! What a beautiful day! I’m craving those delicate lavender shortbread cookies with edible silver leaf. And maybe a truffle omelette, while they bake! Remember, Coralina, I’m allergic to bell peppers! Xoxo]
Then another one from a few minutes ago.
[Is it going to take long? I'm feeling peckish.]
I stare at the screen in disbelief.
But then again, I let it happen for so long…
I remember, I spent weeks testing that cookie recipe, just for Maximus. I used to leave them in his office like a secret gift, along with his afternoon tea. He never said a word, but the tray always came back empty.
I thought he liked them, until I stumbled on Brielle's I*******m.
She had posted a photo of my cookies on a plate by her bed.
[He brought me my favorite treats! It's an honor to be loved by someone who knows me so well.]
He hadn’t eaten a single one… he had taken the whole tray to her.
Eventually, they became more and more shameless. First, she wanted an extra share of the herbal tea to soothe her stomach, and this drama ended up with a formal, bulleted list in a newly formed group chat: Daily nutritional requirements for Brielle, which read like a corporate memo.
Quail eggs, specific heirloom tomatoes, imported sea salt. Bell peppers, of course, were strictly prohibited.
I refused immediately, of course.
[My responsibilities as Luna do not extend to personal chef duties. The pack employs excellent culinary staff, Miss. Brielle, please share this list with them.]
Within seconds, she had replied to the group chat.
[Luna, I can understand. It’s fine, Maximus, really. I’m just… I’m not worthy of such consideration.]
Maximus stormed over in minutes, his Alpha scent heavy and aggressive.
“Apologize to Brielle! She’s dying, Coralina. Stop being a bitch and show some compassion.”
I tried to explain how disrespectful it was, considering our ranks, even though it shouldn't have been necessary. But I was the one who got lectured in return.
“Your tone is disrespectful. Your lack of compassion is disgraceful, especially considering your rank as Luna!”
He hadn’t listened, he never did. The truth was irrelevant next to the comfort of his first love.
From then on, even if my schedule was jam packed with meetings, my workday was perpetually interrupted at 3PM.
If the tray of food was late, the weeping would begin, and I would be confronted with Maximus’s disapproval and anger through the mind-link. “You’re trying to starve her.”
Every time, I was reminded of how petty I was, how cruel for not following her instructions perfectly. But I didn’t apologize then, and I’m definitely not doing it now.
I pick up my phone and type a reply directly into the group chat.
[You were right back then, you really aren’t worthy of my food or my consideration. Get it yourself.]
I hit send and immediately leave the group.
As expected, my phone rings within minutes. I answer, but I don't say a word.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
He snarls. “Brielle is in tears. She fainted after reading that. Do you have any idea what that could do to her condition? Do you want her blood on your hands?”
There is no point to arguing.
And so, I hang up and block him.
The action which I thought would shatter me from inside out, feels nothing more than a simple tap now.
I grab the suitcase I packed last night. I take my passport, my tablet, and the clothes I bought with my own money. I leave the designer gowns and the jewelry Maximus bought to introduce me as his Luna.
They can stay in the closet, meant for his true Luna.
When I stand up and reach for my bag, a sharp pain stabs through my abdomen. I lean against the wall, my vision going blurry.
No matter how strong I'm trying to be, my body hasn't recovered well enough to co-operate with the pace.
At the hospital, the nurse quietly checks my stitches.
“You’re healing physically, but you can't rush the recovery. Give yourself some time and rest, Luna.”
I nod obediently, although I have no intentions of stopping or resting any time soon.
I go to the front desk to settle the bill, and slide the platinum card Maximus gave me across the counter.
“I’m sorry, Luna.”
The clerk says, looking embarrassed. “This card has been flagged. It won't go through.”
At that exact moment, his voice booms in my head through our mind-link.
“Dare to block me again, and see what happens! Stop this tantrum, Coralina. As long as you refuse to apologize to Brielle, you won’t get a single cent. You better learn your place, and quickly.”
I snap out of the dizziness, feeling like hot anger is flowing in my veins.
Does he really think that I'm at his mercy?
With huffing breaths, I pull up contact for Elias Thorn, a lawyer who handles inter-pack commercial disputes.
I type quickly.
[Coralina here. I need your counsel regarding unpaid wages for five years of corporate and strategic work for Silver Lake Holdings.]
The reply is almost instant.
[Luna Coralina, under the Unified Pack Law, a Luna’s labor is considered conjoined with the Alpha’s. It’s a spousal duty, not employment. To sue for wages, you’d first need to legally sever the Luna bond.]
It’s a catch-22. I can't reject Maximus, being of a lower rank than him. If I do, I might lose my life.
And I can't depend on Maximus to agree for the divorce so that I can sue him back.
I clench the phone, feeling my frustration rising.
The trap is cruel. My work built his empire, and the law they wrote says I was just being a wife.
I have to sort this out. But first, the hospital bills need to be settled.
I look down at the five-carat diamond on my left hand, and something clicks.
I ask the receptionist for some time, and walk straight into a pawn shop three blocks from the hospital.
“How much?”
I ask the man behind the glass.
He names a price that’s barely a third of what it’s worth, especially since it's a custom designer piece.
But I don't bother enough to haggle.
It's just a piece of stone, after all. I take the cash, pay the hospital bill, and tuck the rest of the bills into my pocket.
This is my only safety net for now.
I hail a cab.
“Where to?”
“The border crossing at Westgate.”
The cab rolls to a stop at the massive iron gates of the Silver Lake territory. Two guards, betas I recognize from the security rotation, approach for routine inspection.
Their expressions are polite, but look confused when they see me in the back seat.
“Luna? We need a clearance code from the Alpha for you to pass.”
I don't say a word to explain myself.
I just hold up my phone and show him the single-time-use access code that Clyde sent last night, sealed by a black crest: a mountain peak under a silver moon.
The guard’s face goes pale. He scans it with his own device, and it chimes as the gate unlocks.
He steps back, his eyes full of fear.
“Clear passage. Safe travels… Luna Coralina.”
The gates swing open.
The manor is ten minutes outside the border, nestled in the dark pines that belong to no pack, a neutral zone.
It is elegant and formidable, built of dark stone. Above the monumental doors hangs the Nightfall Crest: a mountain peak under a sliver of moon.
It belongs to the boy whom the previous Luna– Maximus' grandmother– threw to the rogues, hoping the wolves would pick his bones clean so that her own bloodline would stay on the throne.
She assumed he would die before his own wolf could even manifest. Instead, Clyde tamed the monsters, turning a pack of rabid rogues into an army of warriors. He rose as the most powerful Alpha on the continent, annexing all Northern territories until the family had no choice but to 'welcome' him back to save the skin on their own backs.
Alpha Clyde…
My heart gives a thud.
I take the first step towards the front gate, knowing that I am stepping into dangerous territory, where I'll have to keep my guards high at all times.
But for now, it is my only option.
I cross the threshold.
CORALINA'S POV The iron shields stop their rhythmic thunder, but the silence that replaces them is far from empty. It is heavy, thick with the scent of pine sap, wet stone, and the distant, metallic tang of the lowlands where the great packs wait. We walk away from the black volcanic ring of the Ancestral Hearth, leaving the twelve Elders and the broken remnants of the Northern nobility behind us in the ash. Clyde does not take me back to the cavern under the sequoia. Instead, he guides me along a narrow, hidden ridge path that cuts through the spine of the mountain, leading toward a stone fortress that looks as if it grew directly out of the mountain itself. It is the ancient seat of the Southern vanguard—a fortress of rough-hewn granite and ironwood, built long before the world learned to hide its teeth behind corporate glass and satellite uplinks. Clyde’s hand remains locked around mine, his broad palm a steady, burning anchor against my skin. The lavender light at my throat ha
CORALINA'S POV The roaring of the Southern vanguard does not fade so much as it sinks into the stone, becoming a permanent, low-frequency tremor beneath my feet. I stand at the edge of the obsidian pit, the cold wind whipping the tattered silk of my ruined gown against my bare thighs. Before me, the twelve Elders of the High Council remain with their foreheads inclined toward the ash, their white-and-gold robes trailing in the soot like molted skin. Diana is a broken, silent heap at the base of the Voron pillar, her hands trembling where they rest against the black volcanic rock. They are waiting for a gesture. A sign of mercy. A traditional blessing from the newly crowned Grand Luna to seal the transition of power. Instead, I feel Clyde’s broad, calloused hand slide down from my shoulder, his fingers tracing a burning line along the curve of my waist before hooking into the tattered fabric at my hip. He pulls me back against his chest, his torso a solid wall of furnace-heat that
CORALINA'S POV The smell of cold ash and charred pine needles follows us all the way down the mountain. The sun is fully up now, a bright, blinding disk that bleeds through the mist without bringing any real warmth to the stone stairs. I walk a half-step ahead of Clyde, my bare feet unbothered by the sharp shale. The tattered rags of my white gown are still tied around my hips, but I do not feel exposed. The thick, dark weight of Clyde’s shadow-energy wraps around my shoulders like a living cloak, shielding my skin from the biting wind. Every time my palm brushes the side of my thigh, I see the faint grey smears of charcoal on my skin. The mark of the Stag. The price of the crown. Behind us, the forest is quiet, but as we reach the lower ridge overlooking the Council’s main camp, the scent of the pack hits my nostrils—a dense, suffocating wave of fear, old blood, and a desperate, shifting allegiance. They know I am coming. They can feel the frequency of the High Priestess descend
CORALINA'S POVThe morning light that filters through the dense canopy of the pines is thin, sharp, and cold. It shatters the private darkness of our clearing, turning the heavy, lingering mist into a pale shroud of silver and grey. I don't move. I lie on the bed of damp moss, listening to the synchronized rhythm of the forest waking up around us. Behind me, Clyde is a mountain of solid, immovable heat. His chest rises and falls against my shoulder blades, his breath a slow, rhythmic current that stirs the silver strands of my unraveled hair. His long, scarred arm remains locked across my waist like an iron bolt, his heavy fingers splayed over my stomach, pressing me so close to his body that there isn't a single inch of air between us. The mark on my neck has finally stopped its frantic, violent throbbing. It hums now—a deep, low-frequency vibration of molten lavender that runs straight down into my core, echoing the golden, shadow-soaked pulse of his own blood. We are whole. The
CORALINA'S POV The volcanic ash feels like cold velvet beneath my bare feet as I step out of the center of the pit.The silence of the High Council is absolute, a heavy, suffocating weight that hangs over the amphitheater like the smoke from the twelve dying bonfires. Diana is still on her knees, her high-born forehead pressed against the soot-stained rock, her shoulders shaking with the silent, ragged sobs of a broken pureblood. Further away, Brielle is being dragged into the shadows by two tight-lipped acolytes, her unconscious human form leaving a dark, smeary trail of crimson across the volcanic stone.None of the Elders move. Hakan remains standing, his iron-ringed staff lowered to the ground in a gesture of permanent capitulation, his sightless grey eyes fixed on the empty air right above my head. They are waiting for me to speak. They are waiting for the newly crowned Grand Luna to issue her first decree, to claim the basalt pillars of the North in the name of the Southern Fir
CORALINA'S POV The hours leading up to midnight pass in a tense, suspended animation. Clyde keeps me hidden deep within the dark architecture of the timber, far away from the prying eyes of the Council and the lingering scent of Diana’s entourage. He doesn't offer me a silk robe, and I don't ask for one; the tattered remnants of my white gown are tied securely around my waist, my bare arms and legs exposed to the biting mountain frost. I like the cold. It keeps the feral edges of my mind sharp. It keeps the fire inside me hungry.We don't speak of the city. We don't speak of the past that remains locked behind a wall of white mist in my head. Instead, we spend the hours in a silent, physical communion. Clyde sits on a mossy log, and I sit between his massive thighs, leaning my back against his chest while his large, calloused hands slowly braid my silver hair back from my face. He weaves thick, tight plaits—not the delicate, crown-like loops Diana wears to look like nobility, but a w
CORALINA'S POV .The silk sheets of the master suite feel like a shroud. I stare at the intricate molding of the ceiling, my heart hammering a frantic, uneven rhythm against my ribs. It is barely dawn, the grey light of a Delhi morning bleeding through the heavy velvet curtains, but the restlessnes
CORALINA'S POV Alpha Clyde stood on the podium, a monolith of silver and shadow, looking down at his nephew with a cold amusement. He smirked, the expression sharp enough to draw blood. "You have been overloading your small brain because of this, haven't you, Maximus?" He rumbled; his voice
CORALINA'S POV The harsh morning light cuts through the heavy velvet curtains of the Nightshade manor, stinging my eyes as I reach for my phone. My head feels like it’s filled with wet wool, a lingering fog from the sedative I had taken last night. I blink, trying to clear the haze, when my thum
AUTHOR'S POV The old Master chuckled dryly, misinterpreting Coralina's silence as the shyness of a new bride. "He really likes you, doesn't he?" he asked, his voice rough with age. "To propose so fast, to keep you hidden until now…" Coralina felt a flicker of guilt, but she swallowed it. She kn







