CHAPTER 1

A NIGHT OF THE FALLEN.

Vivienne’s pov

The scent of burning wood filled the air. It was warm, familiar and comforting. It clung to my skin like memory. Tonight was our Sacred Full Moon Ceremony, and the Silvercrown Pack was alive with celebration. Laughter mingled with the flicker of bonfires, casting gold-lit shadows across the courtyard stones. Music wove through the breeze, playful and wild and above us, the Moon watched like a silent queen.

I spun beneath its gaze, the hem of my white ceremonial gown catching on the wind. For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to forget the whispers, the expectations and the wolf I still couldn’t summon. Tonight, I just wanted to dance, just for a while.

My bare feet skimmed the stone as I moved among the younger wolves, letting their joy infect me. Silvercrown wasn’t just my home it was my family, my duty, my blood.

From across the clearing, I felt the weight of my parents’ stares. My mother, Luna Liora, watched me with sharp, moon-pierced eyes. My father, Alpha Aldric, stood beside her, his jaw tight, arms crossed. They were worried. I could feel it in the way the wind shifted, the way the shadows curled just a little too long.

I ignored them.

Tonight was mine.

I stepped toward the central platform where our elders whispered ancient prayers. I bowed low, then tilted my face up to the moon.

Please, Selmara, I prayed silently. Peace. Just this once. Peace.

The wind answered, cool and soft.

Then the howls shattered the sky.

A brutal chorus—close. Too close.

Silence snapped through the courtyard, the drums stopped, the music died.

Then came the screams.

From the treeline, they charged—rogue wolves, feral and blood-slicked. They tore through our gathering like shadows given teeth. I saw bodies fall, heard bones snap. The scent of joy was smothered in the stink of blood and fear.

My heart seized.

“Vivienne!”

My mother’s voice.

She grabbed my wrist, dragging me back. My father moved in front of us, his form already trembling with the shift.

“They’ve come for you,” he said.

“What?” I gasped, stumbling.

“This isn’t a raid,” my mother whispered. “It’s a hunt.”

My blood turned to ice.

“No—no, I—”

“There’s no time,” my father snapped. He pulled us toward a hidden door behind the main hall. The walls trembled from battle. The air reeked of blood and burning cedar.

“You are more precious than you know, my moondrop,” my mother said, voice cracking. She cupped my cheeks, her eyes filled with sorrow. Then, with trembling fingers, she traced a glowing rune on my forehead. Blue light bloomed against my skin, warm and sharp.

Her final gift.

“I won’t leave you,” I choked.

“You will,” my father said.

He shoved me through the passage. Behind me, I heard their final growls. Their last stand and then—nothing.

I ran.

Branches clawed at my arms as I stumbled through the trees. My dress snagged on thorns, tore at the seams, blood oozed from my palms where bark had splintered my skin. The world around me blurred, moonlight slicing through black trees, firelight flickering behind me like the memory of everything I’d lost.

When I reached the top of the hill, I turned back.

Silvercrown burned.

Our home—its shining white walls and high towers was nothing but black bones now. Smoke curled into the sky like mourning veils and there, on the courtyard steps, lay two still forms.

I knew them by shape, not sight. My mother’s dark braid. My father’s wide shoulders.

I dropped to my knees, the air leaving my lungs in one violent sob.

Gone.

All of them.

Everyone I had ever known.

I was the last Silvercrown but I wasn’t alone. Not yet.

Silas, I thought, clutching my arms around myself. He’ll help me. He always said he would. He was the first to care.

The thought was all I had left.

So I got up and I ran toward Vale Manor.

The manor rose like a ghost from the mist. Its old stone walls had once felt warm, familiar. Now they felt cold and distant. The golden light from the upper windows shimmered through the fog, but it didn’t feel like hope. It felt like illusion.

I pushed open the iron gate with scraped hands and stumbled across the gravel walk. I nearly collapsed at the steps, but somehow, I kept going. My fist struck the door—once, twice, three times.

“Silas!” I gasped. “Please—it’s me. Vivienne!”

Footsteps.

The latch clicked.

The door creaked open.

Silas Vale stood there, shirt wrinkled, hair tousled. His eyes widened slightly but only for a second. His gaze swept over me slowly, mechanically. Torn dress, bloodied hands, ash-covered face.

His expression didn’t change.

He didn’t move to touch me. He didn’t even blink.

“I—I ran,” I stammered. “The rogues… they attacked. My parents—they’re dead. I didn’t know where else to go—”

He stepped outside and shut the door behind him.

“Vivienne,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

I blinked. “What… what do you mean? You told me if anything ever happened, you’d be there. That we were bonded. That we were fated—”

He gave a short, cruel laugh. “I told you that,” he said, “because you were desperate to hear it.”

I stared at him. “You… lied?”

“You never shifted. You don’t know what a bond feels like. You loved me like a girl clings to her first storybook romance.” He leaned against the doorframe like we were discussing the weather. “I played along.”

My stomach twisted. “I loved you.”

“And I used you,” he said flatly. “Until you stopped being useful.”

The door creaked behind him.

“Silas?” a voice called. “What’s taking so long?”

A woman stepped into the light golden hair, emerald green eyes and a silk robe barely tied over a visibly pregnant belly.

Genevieve Ravenfold.

She glowed like a crown jewel and looked at me like I was dirt beneath her heel.

“Oh,” she said sweetly. “You didn’t tell me you had a stray.”

“Genevieve—” I started, but my voice cracked.

She slid her arms around Silas’s, resting her hand possessively on his chest. “You didn’t say she’d show up looking like a corpse.”

I stepped back.

“You said I was yours,” I whispered.

“You were a story I told myself,” he replied. “One I stopped believing in a long time ago.”

“Say it, then,” I said, trembling. “Say I was never yours.”

He looked me in the eyes.

“You were never mine.”

I froze.

Then he moved.

His hand shot out, gripping my chin and from his pocket, he pulled a small vial. The liquid inside shimmered darkly.

Wolfsbane.

“No—Silas, please—”

He forced the vial between my lips.

The liquid burned my throat with pain in every nerve. I collapsed to the ground, convulsing and my vision fractured into black and blue.

“You’re nothing, Vivienne,” he whispered, crouching beside me. “Not even worth a real bond.”

The world spun.

And then—

I let the darkness take me.