Chapter 2

My father was still sitting on the old wooden crate. His hand was wrapped in a blood-soaked cloth.

The bleeding hadn't stopped.

"Selene." His smile was as gentle as ever. "Is the Moon Blessing about to begin?"

"I'll be ready in a minute."

I hurried over and pressed him back onto the crate. "Don't move."

He chuckled awkwardly. "It's only a scratch."

"It isn't."

The shard had cut deep into his palm. A healer should have stitched it an hour ago.

Instead, the Alpha's future father-in-law was sitting in a storage room surrounded by buckets and broken chairs.

My mother was rinsing the Firethorn from her face with cold water.

The angry red burns had spread across her cheek.

When she noticed me looking, she quickly tucked the damaged side of her face behind her hair.

"It doesn't look too bad anymore."

Her voice was light.

Too light.

Not long before, she had stood in front of the mirror in our small room, carefully smoothing the fabric of her dress.

It wasn't new.

But she had spent nights repairing it stitch by stitch, reinforcing the seams, polishing every silver thread until it caught the light like frost.

"This is your Marking Ceremony," she had said softly.

"I want to look proper standing beside you."

She had even braided her hair twice, undoing it the first time because it wasn't neat enough.

My father had watched her with quiet pride.

"You look like a Luna already."

She had laughed, shy and hopeful.

Now, that same woman stood in a supply room, hiding burns behind her hair.

Her dress clung damply to her skin.

Despite the stains and burns, she kept smoothing it as if trying to restore its dignity.

A knock broke the silence. Lucian walked inside.

His eyes swept across the room.

"The ceremony is about to begin."

My father immediately gave a quick nod.

"We're almost done."

Lucian's gaze settled on my mother. His brows drew together.

"The burns are still visible."

My mother covered her cheek.

"I can stand farther away."

"The Pack won't notice."

Lucian paused. "It would be better if you didn't stand on the main platform."

My mother's hand slowly dropped.

Lucian continued, calm as ever. "There will be guests from other Packs. And official portraits."

"I don't want unnecessary attention."

My father forced a laugh.

"Of course. We'll stay in the audience."

"As long as Selene's ceremony goes smoothly."

My chest tightened.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor. Evelyn walked in, holding a folded black dress.

"I found something for you, Mrs. Vale."

She unfolded it with a pleasant smile.

It was a maid's uniform from the Silvercrest Pack House. The silver embroidery across the chest read:

HOUSE STAFF

"This should fit. You can change before the Moon Blessing."

"That way no one will pay attention to the stains."

My mother stared at the uniform for several long seconds.

Then she looked down at her own dress. At the careful stitching and the fabric she had protected even through the chaos.

For a moment, I thought she might refuse.

But she lowered her head.

And took it. "Thank you."

The coarse fabric lay folded in my mom’s hands, a crude reminder of how low they expected me to bow.

My wolf snarled, clawing beneath my skin. I forced her back.

Not yet.

The Council hadn't arrived, and challenging Lucian inside his own Pack, surrounded by his warriors and Elders, would be foolish.

So I lowered my eyes and swallowed my anger.

Lucian looked relieved. "That solves the problem."

He turned toward me. "You should thank Evelyn. She thought of everything."

I looked at him.

"My mother is being asked to wear a servant's uniform to her daughter's Marking Ceremony."

"It is clean," Lucian said. "It is appropriate."

I couldn't believe those words had come from my mate.

Before I could answer, Evelyn lowered her eyes.

"I'm sorry if I've offended anyone."

"I only wanted Mrs. Vale to feel comfortable."

She looked as though she might cry.

Lucian moved to her side without hesitation.

"You've done nothing wrong."

Then he looked at me.

"Selene. Evelyn has been nothing but considerate."

"You owe her an apology."

The room went quiet.

I watched Lucian steady Evelyn. Then at my parents.

My father still sat on that crate, blood soaking through the cloth.

My mother stood there holding the uniform, her dress now something to hide.

No healer had come. No one asked if they were hurt.

Something inside me went still.

I finally understood. It wasn't an accident, they just didn't matter.

And neither did I.

The silver Council sigil rested against my fingertips.

It was warm. Warmer than before.

I know someone had answered my summons.