LOGINYears Before the Wedding The Rowan family had not always lived in poverty.
There was a time when the Rowan estate stood proudly on the eastern border of Valenmoor. Their fields stretched beyond the hills, their barns overflowed with grain, and the Rowan name was spoken with respect throughout the kingdom.
Richard Rowan had once been Gamma to the Grayson royal family, a trusted warrior whose loyalty had earned him honor, land, and a comfortable life. That was before fate began taking everything away.
It started with Emma's first mate rejection. Then came the second. After that...
Nothing was ever the same again. The first rays of dawn crept through the cracked windows of the tiny wooden cottage.
Emma Rowan was already awake. She quietly folded her blanket before glancing toward the small bed in the corner of the room.
Her mother was coughing again. Emma's smile disappeared. She hurried across the room and gently placed the back of her hand against Helen Rowan's forehead.
Still burning. The fever hadn't gone down. Helen slowly opened her eyes and smiled weakly.
"You've been watching me all night again." Emma forced a smile. "I wasn't sleepy."
"You've said that every night this week." Helen reached up and brushed a loose curl away from her daughter's face.
"My sweet girl..." "You need to start thinking about yourself." Emma chuckled softly.
"I can think about myself after you're better." Helen sighed. "You always say that."
Another violent cough interrupted her. Emma immediately reached for the clay cup beside the bed.
It was empty. She looked toward the shelf. Only a single pouch of herbs remained.
Enough for one more day. After that… Nothing.
"I'll boil fresh herbs." Helen caught her wrist. "There aren't any left." Emma lowered her eyes.
She already knew. She had counted them yesterday. Still...
She couldn't bear saying it aloud. Outside, the sound of an axe striking wood echoed through the quiet morning. Richard. Emma quietly stood. "I'll make breakfast."
Breakfast consisted of thin porridge. Mostly water. Barely enough oats to give it color.
Emma carried the bowls to the table. Richard entered moments later. His broad shoulders seemed heavier than they once had.
His beard had begun turning gray long before his age demanded it. Years of worry had stolen the proud warrior he used to be.
He sat without saying a word. Emma placed the largest bowl in front of him. The second before her mother. The smallest… Before herself.
Richard noticed. "You always do that." Emma looked up. "Do what?" "Give yourself the least."
She smiled. "I'm not very hungry." He stared at her. Then silently switched their bowls.
Emma blinked. "Father..." "You need your strength." His voice remained flat. "You work harder than either of us."
It wasn't affection. Not quite. But it was the closest thing to kindness Richard had shown in weeks.
They ate in silence. The only sound came from Helen's occasional cough. When breakfast ended...
A knock echoed against the front door. Richard frowned. "Who would come this early?"
He opened it. Standing outside was the village healer. The elderly man's face immediately answered every question Richard wanted to ask.
"I'm sorry." Richard's jaw tightened. "I brought what I could." He held out three silver coins.
The healer didn't take them. "The new medicine costs twelve." Richard's shoulders slowly slumped. "I'll earn the rest."
"You've been saying that for three months." "I know." "The suppliers won't send more medicine until the debt is paid." Helen slowly appeared behind Emma. "It's alright."
She smiled gently. "I've lived a good life." Richard suddenly exploded. "No!" The healer flinched.
Richard slammed his fist against the doorframe. "I'm not losing you." Helen's eyes filled with tears.
The healer quietly lowered his head. "I truly am sorry." Then he left. No one spoke for a long time.
Finally… Richard grabbed his old hunting coat. "I'm going to the village." Emma immediately stood.
"I'll come." "No." "I can help." "No." His voice came out harsher than intended. Emma froze. Richard sighed.
"I'm sorry." He rubbed his forehead. "I just..." "I need to think." Without another word… He walked out.
The village of Oakridge had already begun its morning routine. Merchants opened their stalls.
Children chased one another through the streets. Women gathered around the communal well.
The conversations stopped the moment Richard appeared. He noticed. Whispers followed him everywhere now. "There goes the Rowan Gamma." "Former Gamma." "They say his daughter has been rejected twice."
"No wonder the Moon Goddess abandoned them." "My son says her wolf is barely stronger than a pup."
"And she's far too big to ever become a Luna." Richard clenched his jaw. Years ago… Those same people had bowed to him.
Now… They pitied him. Or worse… Mocked him. He ignored them and continued walking. Maybe the blacksmith needed help. Anything that would earn enough silver to save Helen.
Instead… A familiar voice stopped him. "Richard Rowan." He turned slowly.
Two finely dressed men stood beneath the ancient oak tree overlooking the marketplace.
Their black robes carried the silver crest of the Royal Council. Villagers immediately lowered their heads as the councilmen approached.
Richard bowed respectfully. "My lords." The older of the two offered a sympathetic smile.
"Councilor Edwin." Richard recognized him immediately. One of Lord Victor Ashford's closest advisers.
"I heard about your wife." Richard's expression darkened. "News travels quickly."
Edwin nodded. "It does." He glanced toward the villagers listening nearby. "Walk with me."
Richard hesitated before following him toward the quieter edge of the village. For several moments… Neither man spoke.
Edwin broke the silence. "Tell me honestly." "How many misfortunes has your family suffered since Emma turned eighteen?"
Richard frowned. "I don't understand." "The first rejection." Edwin counted on his fingers.
"The second rejection." "Your harvest started failing." "Your livestock dying." "Your position as Gamma being stripped away."
He paused. "Now your wife's illness." Richard felt his stomach tighten. "What are you trying to say?"
Edwin stopped walking. His expression became unusually serious. "The High Priest has spent months studying ancient records."
Richard stared at him. "And?" "He found something..." He lowered his voice."...disturbing."
Richard's heartbeat quickened. "What?" Edwin looked directly into his eyes. "What if none of this is coincidence?"
Richard didn't answer. Edwin continued. "What if the misfortune isn't following your family..."
He paused. "...but one person?" Richard immediately shook his head. "No." "My daughter is kind."
"This isn't about kindness." Edwin interrupted softly. "It's about fate." Richard stood frozen.
Edwin took one final step closer. "Tell me, Richard..." "How many more signs must the Moon Goddess send before you realize..." "...that the curse entered your home wearing your daughter's face?"
Richard staggered back a step. "What... Did you just say?" Councilor Edwin Ashford sighed as though the words pained him to speak.
"I know Emma is your daughter." "I know you love her." "But love has blinded greater men than you." Richard's hands slowly curled into fists.
"My daughter is not cursed." Edwin remained calm. "Isn't she?"
He looked toward the distant village. "Tell me, Richard... before Emma turned eighteen, how many generations of the Rowan family ever suffered a mate rejection?"
Richard remained silent. Edwin nodded. "None." "How many Gammas in your bloodline were stripped of their rank?"
Richard's jaw tightened. "None." "How many Rowan women failed to awaken a strong wolf?"
"None." Edwin's voice softened. "Your family served the Grayson Kings faithfully for nearly three hundred years."
"You were respected." "Wealthy." "Honored." "Then Emma turned eighteen." Richard looked away.
"Her first mate rejected her." "People whispered." "The second rejected her publicly."
"Your reputation collapsed." "The nobles stopped trading with you." "The Council had no choice but to replace you as Gamma."
Richard clenched his teeth. "You had a choice." Edwin lowered his head. "The kingdom cannot follow a leader whose household is believed to be cursed."
Richard wanted to argue. He wanted to shout. Instead… He remembered every door that had closed in his face.
Every merchant who refused to sell to him. Every noble who crossed the street rather than greet him.
Every whispered insult aimed at Emma. Edwin watched the battle on Richard's face. Then delivered the final blow.
"And now..." "Your wife is dying." Richard's breathing became uneven. Edwin reached into his robe and withdrew a small leather pouch.
The sound of silver coins clinking together echoed between them. Richard stared.
"There are fifty silver coins inside." His eyes widened. That was more money than he had seen in months.
Enough for Helen's medicine. Enough for food. Enough to survive the winter.
Richard looked up. "What do you want?" Edwin smiled faintly. "Nothing for myself."
"The Royal Palace is looking for new servants." Richard frowned. "Servants?"
“Yes” "They need hardworking people." "They pay well." Richard's expression hardened.
"You want Emma." Edwin nodded. "Only because we believe distance may help."
"Distance?" "If Emma truly carries this misfortune..." "Removing her from your household may break whatever follows your family."
Richard's face darkened. "And if she doesn't?" Edwin spread his hands. "Then she earns honest wages."
"She sends money home." "Your wife receives treatment." "Everyone benefits." Richard looked down at the pouch again.
Helen's pale face flashed through his mind. Her cough. Her fever. The empty medicine shelf.
His hands began trembling. Edwin noticed. "You are a father." "And a husband." "Sometimes..." "The kindest decisions feel like the cruelest."
Richard closed his eyes. He hated himself "If she goes..." "Can my wife live?"
"The palace pays every month." Edwin answered. "And servants loyal to the Crown are protected."
Richard swallowed hard. "Will she ever return?" Edwin hesitated just long enough.
"If fortune changes." It wasn't a promise. Richard knew that. But desperate men often mistook hope for certainty.
Edwin placed the pouch into Richard's shaking hands. "Think carefully." Then he turned and walked away, leaving Richard standing alone beneath the ancient oak tree.
The walk home felt longer than ever before. The silver coins weighed like stones inside Richard's pocket.
Every step filled him with shame. Every step reminded him that he was considering sending away the daughter who had never once complained.
Emma… Who woke before sunrise every day. Who secretly skipped meals so her parents could eat.
Who sold her own jewelry after the second rejection to pay household debts. Who smiled even when the village mocked her.
Who still believed tomorrow would somehow be better. Richard stopped outside the cottage.
He couldn't go inside. Not yet. His hand rested against the wooden fence. His shoulders shook.
A quiet sob escaped him. "I've failed you..." He whispered. "I've failed both of you."
From inside the house… He heard laughter. Helen's laughter. Emma must have said something funny.
Richard closed his eyes. How could he walk in there… Knowing he was about to destroy the only happiness his daughter had left?
He remained outside for several minutes. Until the cottage door slowly opened. Emma stepped out carrying a basket of freshly washed clothes.
She smiled the moment she saw him. "Father." "I was wondering where you were. She stopped.
His eyes were red. His shoulders were slumped. Something was terribly wrong. She hurried toward him.
"What happened?" "Did you find work?" Richard couldn't answer. She looked down.
she noticed the heavy leather pouch in his hand. Her eyes widened. "You found work?"
Still… He said nothing. Her smile slowly faded. "Father..." "What happened?" Richard finally looked at her.
"Emma..." His voice broke. "We need to talk." Emma's heart sank. She had never heard him sound like that before.
Behind them… Helen called from inside the cottage. "Richard?"
"Emma?" "Is everything alright?" Neither of them answered. Emma looked at her father once more.
Fear settled deep inside her chest. Somehow… She knew. The moment he spoke...Their lives would never be the same again.
Marcus listened to the whole of it without interrupting, standing at the war room table with his arms crossed, his face carved into the particular stillness Emma had learned meant he was working hard not to react visibly.When Emma finished, he was quiet for a long moment."You went into a sealed passage beneath the Temple," he said finally, "without telling me first.""We didn't know what we'd find. We didn't want to risk—""You didn't want to risk me telling you not to go." Marcus's voice stayed level, though something sharp lived underneath it now. "Your Majesty, I understand the instinct. I even understand the reasoning. But I cannot protect what I don't know about. If something had happened to either of you down there, I would have had no idea where to even begin looking.""Something did happen," Ethan said quietly. "To Lucien."Marcus's jaw tightened. "Show me the blood."They went to the chapel together, the three of them, moving quickly and quietly through corridors still most
They didn't part ways at the palace gates the way they should have. Ethan followed her as far as the small garden off the east corridor, and neither of them said anything about why, both of them simply understanding that whatever had just happened in that sanctum chamber wasn't finished being felt yet.Emma sat on the low stone wall, the ancient book still clutched against her chest beneath her cloak, and Ethan stood a few feet away, staring at nothing, his hands opening and closing at his sides like he didn't know what to do with them."Say it," Emma said quietly."Say what.""Whatever's sitting behind your teeth right now. I can see it. You've been carrying it since we left the Temple."Ethan's jaw worked. For a long moment he didn't speak at all, and when he finally did, his voice came out raw, stripped of every careful wall he usually kept around it."I destroyed your life for nothing." The words cracked in the middle. "That's what I keep thinking. Over and over, since we read tha
The passage began behind the Temple's deepest altar, a stone panel Lucien pressed in a sequence he'd clearly rehearsed in his head a hundred times over thirty years, never once trusting himself to use it.It groaned open into darkness thick enough to taste, old air that hadn't moved in longer than any of them had been alive."This hasn't been opened since before I was ordained," Lucien said, his voice unsteady as he held a single lantern aloft in one trembling hand. "I was shown it once, as a young priest, told it existed only as formality. I never imagined I'd be the one to use it."Emma went first, Ethan close behind her, the narrow stone stairway descending further than she expected, the air growing colder and stale with every step."How much further?" she asked quietly."Not far now." Lucien's voice carried an odd steadiness now, the particular calm of a man who'd finally stopped fighting the thing he'd feared for decades. "The passage runs beneath the Temple grounds, under the ol
They went to the Temple together, after dark, the way Ethan had learned to move through it alone these past months, quiet, careful, avoiding the acolytes' rounds.Lucien was in the small chapel again, the same one where Emma had first tried and failed to get anything real out of him. He startled badly when the door opened, badly enough that Emma understood, watching him, exactly how thin his nerves had worn."Your Majesty." His eyes moved past her to Ethan, and something in his face went grey. "Your Highness. Both of you. At this hour.""We need to talk to you," Emma said. "Really talk, this time.""I've told you what I can.""You've told me what you were willing to risk telling me alone." Emma crossed the chapel, Ethan a step behind her. "We're not alone anymore, Lucien. We know about the Order. We know about the letter. We know someone scraped an entry from your own archive's index thirty years ago, and we know exactly what kind of man has had the standing to do something like that
He came alone, as she'd asked, and he came fast enough that Emma suspected he hadn't slept any more than she had."Your message said it was urgent.""Close the door."He did, and something in the set of his shoulders told her he understood, before she'd said anything further, that this wasn't going to be the conversation they'd both carefully avoided finishing that afternoon.Emma set the journal on the desk between them without preamble."Isabella's," she said. "I found it in her sealed chambers, weeks ago. I've told no one. Not Jasper. Not Naya. I've been carrying it alone because I didn't know who I could trust with it."Ethan's face went very still. He reached for it slowly, as if it might burn him, and opened to the marked page with hands that weren't quite steady."Victor smiles too easily for a man carrying the burdens he claims to carry." His voice came out rough, reading it aloud. "She wrote this.""Twenty years ago. Before she died." Emma watched him take in the torn pages,
The rider came in on a half-dead horse just past midnight, and Emma was awake to hear the commotion at the gate before anyone thought to wake her properly.She was in the courtyard in her robe, hair still loose, by the time they got him down off the horse. Young, filthy with road dust, one arm wrapped crudely where something had clearly gone wrong somewhere along the ride."Your Majesty." He swayed, and a guard caught his elbow before he went down entirely. "Message from His Majesty. Urgent.""Is he hurt?""No, Your Majesty. Not when I left him." The rider fumbled at his coat with his good hand, producing a folded, travel-worn letter, the seal already cracked from being checked and rechecked along the road. "He said to put it in your hands myself. No one else's."Emma took it with fingers that weren't quite steady, and sent the rider off to the physicians with Naya trailing behind, already fussing over his arm before Emma had even broken the seal.She read it standing in the cold cour







