Chapter 8

LILA

The machines were quieter today.

For the first time since he collapsed, the frantic beeping and harsh alarms had been replaced by something steadier and calmer. The monitors blinked in soft rhythm, like a lullaby I hadn’t dared hope to hear.

I hadn’t left his side all night.

A guard stood just outside the door by Tyler’s orders. I hadn’t asked him to do that, but I also hadn’t told him to stop.

Gavin’s tiny chest rose and fell beneath the thin blanket. His skin was less pale now, his cheeks tinted faint pink.

He looked peaceful.

Like the worst was over.

I reached forward, brushing my fingers across his curls, then cupped his small hand in both of mine.

“You’re safe, baby,” I whispered. “You’re going to be okay. I’m right here.”

A moment passed. Then another.

And then, his fingers twitched.

I froze.

His eyelids fluttered once, twice… and then slowly, slowly, opened.

Emerald green, glassy with exhaustion but alive.

I gasped, tears springing to my eyes. “Gavin! oh my god. Baby, can you hear me?”

He blinked again. And then, with a fragile little breath, his lips parted.

“Mommy…” he whispered.

I choked on a sob. “Yes, yes, I’m here. I’m right here.”

His eyes roamed the room, unfocused. Then he frowned, just slightly.

“He… was here…”

I stiffened.

“Who?” I asked gently, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Who was here, sweetheart?”

Gavin swallowed. His voice was just a whisper, barely audible.

“The man… with two faces.”

My blood ran cold.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely stable.

He closed his eyes, voice drifting like wind. “He said… Daddy has to bleed… or the moon will die…”

I sat there, staring at him, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

“Gavin…” I whispered, but his breathing had slowed again. His little body had gone still, resting. Not unconscious, not in pain. Just… sleeping again.

But the words stayed behind.

The man with two faces. Daddy has to bleed. Or the moon will die.

They weren’t just the dreams of a sick child.

They were a warning.

And I had no idea what it meant… only that it had already begun.

I hadn’t even had a chance to process Gavin’s warning before the message came.

One of Tyler’s guards handed me a sealed envelope, hand-delivered from the Pack Council. The message inside was written in crisp, black ink. No signature.

“The Pack requires a public appearance to confirm your return as Luna.

A formal unity ceremony will commence at dusk, two nights from now.

Attendance is mandatory.

Let there be no further room for doubt.”

I read it twice. Then a third time.

Mandatory.

A show of unity before any marking.

I found Tyler in the war room, pacing as two scouts updated him on patrol activity. He turned the second he saw me, his expression unreadable.

“I assume you got the same letter,” I said, tossing the envelope onto the table like a threat.

He glanced at it, but didn’t look surprised.

“They want reassurance,” he said. “The Pack’s been watching us. And the council’s been watching them.”

“They want a Luna,” I snapped. “Not a healer. Not me. Just the role.”

“You are the role,” he said, stepping closer. “Whether you believe it yet or not.”

I crossed my arms, forcing my voice to stay even. “They’re rushing this. You know it. Gavin’s barely stable. We haven’t even completed the bond. What happens if they notice that?”

“They won’t,” he said. “They just want the illusion and the title. We give them that, and we buy ourselves time.”

I laughed bitterly. “You mean you buy yourself time. I’m the one who has to stand beside you, smile like I haven’t been publicly humiliated by you before, and pretend this is something I wanted.”

His expression flickered, something between guilt and defiance.

“I didn’t ask for a show,” he said, voice low. “But I won’t deny the Pack stability if this keeps them calm.”

I stared at him for a long moment.

Then finally nodded.

“Fine. I’ll wear the damn dress. I’ll stand on that stage. But let’s be clear about one thing, Alpha Blackwood, this is not a reunion, this is a performance. And when it’s over, I’m going back to my son.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

Good.

Because I didn’t have it in me to smile through another lie.

The courtyard was lit with silver torches and lined with silk banners bearing the Pack’s insignia. The stone platform had been dusted, polished, and raised for the occasion because of course appearances had to be perfect, even if the truth beneath them was fractured.

Tyler stood beside me, regal in a black ceremonial coat that draped across his shoulders like a mantle of storm clouds. I wore a deep crimson gown, chosen by the council, not me. I hated how it clung to my waist, how it left my neck exposed.

Like an invitation to be marked.

But there would be no marking tonight.

The crowd had gathered; Pack members, high-ranking wolves from allied territories, and the full council seated like kings under the arch. All of them watching.

The High Seer stepped forward with a silver bowl of ash and a ceremonial blade.

“Tonight, the Alpha reclaims his destined Luna. Not through fate, but through choice. By oath, not by blood. A promise before the Pack.”

Tyler extended his hand to me.

I took it.

The moment our fingers touched, the crowd murmured. Magic rippled faintly through the air, tugging at the bond between us like a tide but it wasn’t enough. Not without the mark. Not without true unity.

We repeated the oath, word for word.

Eyes locked. Faces composed.

But behind it all, my skin crawled.

Something was off.

I felt it like a shadow brushing my spine.

Watching.

As the ritual ended, the crowd erupted in polite applause. The council looked satisfied. The Pack bowed their heads. Tyler leaned close, murmuring against my ear.

“We got through it.”

But I wasn’t listening to him.

Because my eyes had caught something, just for a second.

At the edge of the crowd. Half-hidden beneath the veil of an elder’s hood.

Someone looking at me.

No, through me.

The sensation was icy and familiar. That same pressure I’d felt the night of the hospital sabotage. That choking aura of magic. Of hate.

But when I blinked, they were gone.

Vanished.

I turned back to Tyler, my fingers gripping his tighter than I meant to.

“Someone was here,” I whispered.

He stiffened. “What?”

“Watching us. Masked. I felt it, same as at the hospital.”

Tyler’s eyes scanned the crowd, sharp and alert, but the figure had disappeared like smoke.

We were being stalked.

And tonight’s performance?

Was just a stage for our predator.

~

The room was lit by nothing but moonlight and a single candle.

The ceremonial ash sat in a bowl on the table beside us, glowing faintly with enchantment. The scent of crushed juniper and sage hung heavy in the air.

The silence stretched between us.

I stood by the window, arms folded, watching the moon. Tyler stood behind me, still wearing his ceremonial coat, his expression unreadable.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he said, his voice low but even.

“We do,” I whispered.

I turned to face him. “Gavin’s getting better, but we both know it’s not enough. The prophecy didn’t say pretend. It said bond.”

He stepped closer, stopping just a breath away.

“You’re sure?”

“No,” I said. “But I’m willing.”

I tilted my head, exposing the place just above my collarbone, the place where his mark would go.

His eyes flickered, not with lust, not with triumph but with something softer. Sadder. Like a man who had been given back something he didn’t deserve.

“I won’t hurt you,” he murmured.

I gave him a thin smile. “You already did.”

And then he leaned in.

His breath brushed my skin.

I braced myself. For the pain. For the magic. For the final seal of a bond I never asked for.

His fangs grazed my neck and then the candle blew out.

The bowl of ash cracked with a sharp, splitting sound.

And suddenly, the air around us turned black.

Not dark, black.

Heavy, Stifling and laced with magic I didn’t recognize. The walls groaned. My breath caught and my vision blurred.

I staggered back, gasping, as something invisible shoved between us.

“Lila!” Tyler reached for me, but couldn’t touch me. A barrier, thin as smoke, hard as glass, pressed between us.

Then a voice echoed through the room.

Old, cold and not human.

“The bond cannot be sealed. The path is tainted. The debt is not yet paid.”

I dropped to my knees as the pressure tightened around my chest. A scream rose in my throat, but no sound came out. My ears rang. My skin burned.

Then silence.

The candle relit.

The ash bowl stopped vibrating.

The barrier vanished.

I collapsed into Tyler’s arms, gasping for air.

He held me, shaking.

“What the hell was that?” he whispered.

I didn’t answer right away.

Because I wasn’t sure.

But deep down, I knew one thing.

Someone—or something—didn’t want this bond to happen.

I slept restlessly that night, if I slept at all.

My body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t quiet. Not after the bond failed. Not after the voice in the dark. I couldn’t stop replaying the words:

“The path is tainted. The debt is not yet paid.”

What debt?

Whose path?

The questions coiled around my ribs like thorns.

I must’ve slipped into unconsciousness sometime before dawn, because when the vision came, I wasn’t fully awake and I wasn’t fully asleep.

I was somewhere in between.

I stood in the middle of a cold forest. The trees were twisted, their bark charred black. Ash rained down like snow. My breath steamed in the air, even though I couldn’t feel my own body.

Ahead of me was a woman.

Cloaked but not hiding.

She stood at the center of a circle of ancient stones, her arms outstretched, her voice murmuring in a language I didn’t understand but that my bones recognized.

Blood magic.

Her cloak fluttered as if in a wind that didn’t touch me. The ash gathered at her feet, swirling into a sigil I couldn’t fully make out, until she looked up.

And beneath the veil, I saw her eyes.

Snake-green.

Her lips moved again.

“He stole what was promised. The bond is cursed. The price has not been paid.”

I tried to move, to speak but I couldn’t.

And then she said a name.

A name I hadn’t heard in years.

“Janet.”

The name echoed through the trees like a scream. And the sigil below her feet burst into flame.

I woke with a jolt, drenched in sweat, my hands clutching the sheets like they were the only thing anchoring me to this world.

I sat up slowly, the name still burning on my tongue.

Janet.

I hadn’t thought of her since the day she vanished from the Blackwood Pack; disgraced, exiled for practicing forbidden magic. A mid-level enchantress with dangerous ambition and a grudge deeper than any I’d seen.

And if she was behind this?

If she had returned?

This wasn’t just about fate.

This was war.