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หน้าหลัก / Werewolf / Rejected by my Mate, Chosen by his Enemy / The Moonborn Throne

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The Moonborn Throne

ผู้เขียน: Dakota Quinn
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-07-25 08:40:54

Haydee

The dead forest took the sound out of the world.

We came into it on foot in the last dark before moonrise, four of us with Hunter's warriors behind, and every step deeper the trees stood more wrong. Bare branches. Dead air. Nothing had denned in that ground for a hundred years, and the forest knew us for what we were, the last blood of the line that had raised its stones.

At its heart stood the throne.

I had pictured a chair. It was

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  • Rejected by my Mate, Chosen by his Enemy   The Bloodpine Pact

    HaydeeEvanthe did not stop at the pact. Dying women, I have learned, do not leave things half told."Understand what your father bought, and what he sold for it," she whispered to Lucien, her hand still on his wrist. "He did not help hide the Moongale child out of any mercy. Carmen and I hid you, Haydee, to keep you alive. His lordship of Bloodpine hid the same secret for the opposite reason. Ursula wanted the line buried so she could harvest it in the dark. Your father wanted it buried so that one day, when the world had forgotten there was a Moonborn heir at all, Bloodpine could produce her, and prove her, and own her, first among the packs."Her eyes moved to her son."That is what the betrothal was. Not a marriage. A receipt. He wrote your name and her name together before you could walk, before she was even out of hiding, because Ursula promised him the heir and he meant to collect. You were not betrothed to a bride, Lucien

  • Rejected by my Mate, Chosen by his Enemy   Lucien Breaks

    HaydeeShe did not die. That was the first mercy of a night with very few.The blade had gone in low and sure, but Nerra was a mother turned assassin, not a trained one, and grief makes the hand shake at the last inch even when it means to be steady.We had Evanthe on the floor with Cole's hands pressed to the wound and Hunter shouting the tower awake for a healer, and the old queen breathed, shallow and stubborn, clinging to the life she had spent twenty years in a cell protecting mine with.She would live. The healer said it near dawn, gray with exhaustion, and I let out a breath I had been holding since the stairwell.And then I turned and saw Lucien, and understood the night was not over. It had only turned into something else.Lucien Roux sat on the cold stone floor of his mother's prison with his shoulders against the wall and his knees drawn up like a boy, and he was not elegant, and he was not cold, an

  • Rejected by my Mate, Chosen by his Enemy   The Mother of the Dead Child

    HaydeeIt was Lucien who put the last piece in, because Lucien always saw a thing whole before the rest of us caught up."A grieving mother," he said slowly, turning it over, "who learned her dead child was made into a lie about the Moongale line. Who has wanted the High Luna dead for years. Who has now been given the means."He looked at me, and I watched him arrive where I had already arrived."Haydee. The murders. The freed widow with your crescent carved over her body. The killings signed with your own sigil to frame you." His voice dropped. "We have been hunting a professional. We have been hunting a mother. It is the same person. Your assassin and the woman whose daughter died in your cradle are one woman, and her name is the one Evanthe has been carrying up here for twenty years.""Nerra," Evanthe said.She said the name the way you set down something heavy. And I understood, standing in that grey tower, that

  • Rejected by my Mate, Chosen by his Enemy   The Switched Cradle

    HaydeeNo one in that windowless room moved.I did not move. I stood in front of a woman twenty years locked away and waited for her to unmake the one certainty I had left, which was that I knew nothing about the truth of my own birth.Evanthe told it the way she seemed to do everything, plainly, without weight, as though reading names off a list, and the flatness of her voice was the most frightening thing about the story, because a person only speaks that calmly about a horror they have lived beside for a very long time."The night you were born," she said, "was the night they came to kill you. Ursula knew Carmen was near her time. She had waited years for the Moonborn line to produce one more heir, so that she could end it in the cradle and keep the last true Moongale blood for her workings. Her agents were inside the walls when your first cry went up. You had perhaps an hour before they reached the room.""There was an

  • Rejected by my Mate, Chosen by his Enemy   Lucien's Mother

    HaydeeEvery pack in the north has a room it does not talk about. Bloodpine had a tower.It stood at the cold northern corner of Lucien's holdfast, tall and narrow and windowless above the third floor, and the servants did not go near it, and in three visits to Bloodpine I had never once been told what it was.Now I knew.It was the silent tower, and Bloodpine had used it for three hundred years to keep the family truths it could neither kill nor free, and for the last twenty years it had kept one prisoner. Queen-Mother Evanthe. Lucien's mother. Declared mad after the Moonborn line fell, sealed away from the world while her son was still a boy, and left there so long that most of the north believed her dead.She was not dead. She was the one living soul who had watched me born. And to save my crown, I had to climb that tower and ask a madwoman to remember me.Lucien did not want to open the door.I had never

  • Rejected by my Mate, Chosen by his Enemy   The Illegitimate Queen

    HaydeeThey read the petition aloud in my own court, because a charge against a queen must be spoken where the queen can hear it, and I stood on my dais and listened to a piece of paper try to unmake me.It did not say I was a bad ruler. I could have fought that. It did not say I had killed the widow or shaken the bonds too far. It said something worse, something I had not braced for, because no one in my whole life had ever been cruel to me in quite this direction.It said I had never been born.The claim, in the cold words the clerk read out, was this. That Haydee Moongale was not the daughter of Carmen Moongale at all. That there was no true child, no true birth, no Moongale heir. That the woman on the throne was a thing grown in the dark from stolen Moonborn blood, a made creature wearing a dead line's face, an impostor with no more right to the crown than any other clever forgery.That I was not a person who had been

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