THE LUNA’S FORBIDDEN ECHO

Zephyrine Vesper POVThe water didn't rush here. It whispered over moss-slicked stones, carrying the cold bite of the Yukon thaw. Midnight in the borderlands was never truly silent, but tonight the forest held its breath the air thick with crushed pine and wet earth. I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders, though the chill under my skin had nothing to do with the mountain air. It was my own pulse, hammering too fast, and the scar along my collarbone, throbbing in time with it. A brand for a destiny I hadn't asked for.A twig snapped across the creek.My muscles locked. Every instinct told me to drop low, to bare my teeth at the dark. But the shape stepping out from under the spruce wasn't an enforcer, wasn't a rival wolf testing our border.It was Kaelen.He stopped on the far bank, breath pluming white. Soot smudged one cheekbone, and a fresh scratch cut along his jaw something from the timber yard, probably. He didn't look like danger. He never had. My pack saw humans as some

Zephyrine Vesper POVThe wool of the ceremonial gown sat on me like lead while Thaddeus's words hung in the cold air. Vivienne didn't flinch, but I caught the twitch in her jaw, the sound of her mind rearranging itself around new information. Before I could process the blood on his armour, she waved the tailors out with one sharp motion. They fled without being asked twice."Out," she told Thaddeus, her voice dropping low. "Not here. The antechamber.""Matriarch, you need to see this now." He didn't move. He pulled something from his belt pouch and set it on the vanity, hard enough that it rattled the mirror.Kaelen's axe. The hickory handle split down the middle, blood dried dark into the grain.The air left my lungs not from the corset this time. That axe never left his side. It was the tool that had put the calluses on the hands that had cupped my face by the creek hours ago.Vivienne's eyes narrowed on the wood. "Explain. Quickly.""Found abandoned on the lower logging trail," Tha

Kaelen POVThe iron of the execution post bit into my shoulders, but that pain was nothing next to what was sitting in my chest. I'd spent months thinking I knew her, thinking the girl who met me by the creek, who laughed over stale bread under the spruce trees, was mine. Now, frost working through my torn jacket, the truth was simpler and worse: I was a human who'd wandered too close to something with teeth, and I was about to pay the going rate for it.Around me, the parade ground shook with the rhythm of a few thousand boots hitting frozen earth at once. Their breath rose into the cold like smoke off a single animal.Thaddeus Blackwood stood at the centre of the stone amphitheatre, scarred and massive, his voice carrying without needing to strain for it."Listen well!" he roared. "For generations, Silver Ridge has stood as the last true stronghold of northern blood! We do not bleed for outsiders, and we do not share our soil with human filth! Shifter blood is sovereign and it stays

Zephyrine povI woke to burnt toast and Vivienne’s voice drifting up the stairs. The light through the curtains was thin and grey, the kind that never quite becomes day. My body felt heavy, like it had been running all night even though I’d only climbed back through the window an hour before dawn. Creek water still clung to the insides of my wrists where I’d scrubbed Kaelen’s scent off in the dark.I dressed slowly. The cotton dress Vivienne liked for family breakfasts hung loose on my shoulders. I kept my eyes off the mirror. The crescent scar on my collarbone had ached since I left him, a dull throb matching the beat under my ribs. I pressed my fingers against it once, hard, hoping pain would quiet it. It didn’t.Downstairs, Vivienne sat at the head of the long table. Silver threaded the dark hair she’d pinned back with care. Her smile was the same one she gave the elders soft at the edges, sharp underneath. Eggs and toast waited at my place. Steam still rose from the coffee she’d p

Zephyrine povThe ceremonial gown hung from the wardrobe like something that already owned me. Ivory silk, high collar, the sleeves cut to leave the crescent scar on full display. Vivienne had chosen every detail. The seamstress stood behind me with pins in her mouth, murmuring measurements while I stared at my reflection and tried not to breathe too deeply.“Hold still, Miss,” the woman said. “The waist needs to sit higher. Luna lines should read regal, not soft.”I lifted my arms when she told me to. The fabric whispered against my skin. In the mirror, the scar looked darker than usual, as if the silk had drawn blood to the surface. The pull that lived under it had been restless since breakfast. It coiled and released in slow waves, stronger when I thought of Kaelen, vicious when I tried not to.Vivienne watched from the doorway, arms folded, the silver in her hair catching the late-afternoon light. She had not spoken since the fitting began. That silence was worse than her question