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Aichonne Blackwood
“You are getting mated?”
Maggie Moonclaw lets out an ear-shattering howl that makes me drop my clay mug.
“What?”
Maggie points her shaking finger at her screen. “It says it right here, Aichonne. You are getting mated to the royal heir.”
“Did you put crazy-root in your morning water?” I shake my head, my short hair moving around my face. “I have been in Moonhaven Coast for two days. I am not dating anyone.”
“I am your moonbound sister, and you did not even tell me!” Maggie rolls her eyes big time. “I guess I can say goodbye to standing next to you at the pack altar. I did not even get an invite.”
I am staying with Maggie while she gets better from her bad leg injury. We just got done with a morning run through the woods, and now we are in her trusted Beta’s kitchen. Everything is nice and slow until she starts talking like a wild rogue.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” My heart goes fast.
“Look!” She pushes the screen into my face.
I snatch it from her hands. My mouth falls open. My eyes feel like they are going to pop right out of my head.
‘AICHONNE BLACKWOOD SOON TO BECOME LUNA OF THE SILVERFANG ROYAL PACK’
The huge words burn my eyes. I click the search button and type my name super fast. A whole bunch of news pops up.
‘AICHONNE BLACKWOOD SPOTTED IN MOONHAVEN COAST GETTING READY FOR THE BLOOD MOON ASCENSION’
‘DARYL SILVERFANG AND AICHONNE BLACKWOOD. LONG LIVE THE FUTURE KING AND LUNA’
‘DARYL AND AICHONNE. IS THIS AN ETERNAL MOONMARK?’
Daryl Silverfang? The Alpha Heir of the Silverfang Throne? Who is that?
I read page after page, and my blood starts to boil like fire. A hot wave of anger hits my chest.
“That manipulative bitch,” I growl.
Maggie tilts her head. “So, you are not really mated to him?”
“No!” I slam my hands on the table. “I do not even know this Daryl guy. I have never seen his face in my life.”
“Well, if you have to marry a total stranger, he is a great choice,” Maggie says, looking back at the screen. “He is a powerful Alpha. He owns almost the whole Pack Dominion. He is huge and strong.”
“I do not care how big his wolf is!” I chew my lip till it hurts. “My rogue Luna stepmother did this. Andrea Blackwood is using me as bait again to get pack resources. This is a new low, even for her.”
“You think Andrea started this rumor?”
“I know she did.” My hands shake with rage. “She loves to mess with my life. Remember when she tried to force me to mate with that creepy Simon Darkhowl?”
Maggie makes a super gross face. “Ugh. Do not remind me.”
Simon is a bad wolf. On our first meeting, he told me he wanted to lock me in a silver cage and let his three cousins run wild with me. I told him to get lost.
My stepmother cannot pick a good wolf to save her life. I do not know how my father, Pack Elder Hershel, ever let her into our pack. Telling her to mind her own business is like throwing fresh meat to a starving wolf and telling it not to eat. It is pointless.
“Well, she picked a winner this time,” Maggie says, tapping the glass. “Daryl Silverfang lives right down the road on the Silver Tide Coast. You could move here permanently, and we could hunt together every day.”
“I love the Alpha Metropolis too much to ever leave,” I say. “I am a city wolf through and through.”
My phone starts buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. The screen lights up over and over with missed alerts from other packs. I let it go to voicemail.
“I need to stop this madness right now,” I tell Maggie, standing up so fast my chair squeaks. “This fake news is going viral across the whole Crescent Moon Dominion. I am going to find this Alpha Heir and make him tell the truth.”
“Where are you going dressed like that?” Maggie asks, looking at my hunting boots and tight leather vest.
“I am going to war,” I say. “I called my father’s Beta steward back home. The pack house is in total chaos right now. My father and Andrea are locked in the Alpha’s den, having a massive yelling match. It is super ugly.”
“Your father must be so angry,” Maggie says.
“He is fit to be tied,” I say. “I love him to pieces, but marrying that rogue woman was his biggest mistake. I am not waiting around for them to finish fighting. I need to know why Daryl Silverfang agreed to this lie. What does the royal pack get from this?”
Maggie leans on her wooden cane, looking worried. “Did you even make an appointment with the royal heir? A powerful Alpha does not just have free time for a random wolf.”
“I tried to call his pack lodge, but his guard dog at the front gate keeps giving me the runaround,” I growl. “She thinks I am a crazy rogue making up stories. Daryl is probably sitting on his Wolf King's Throne right now, laughing at me.”
“Maybe he is innocent,” Maggie says gently.
“No way,” I say, my voice getting louder. “He must be loving every minute of this attention. But I found his main pack headquarters, the Mooncrest Alpha Citadel. I am going to pay the King a little visit.”
Maggie lets out another loud gasp. “You are going to show up unannounced at the royal citadel? Is that a good idea, Aichonne?”
“What else can I do?” I shrug my shoulders. “I want answers, and I want them right now. If my stepmother will not give them to me, then this Alpha King will.”
I turn around and run out the door before she can stop me.
I watch in breathless, reverent awe as Aichonne hovers in the center of the ruined throne room, bathed in the divine golden light of the Moon Goddess. The air around her is no longer a chaotic storm of magic, but a tranquil, shimmering sea of serenity that seems to suspend time itself.Every particle of dust, every jagged shard of glass, and every lingering ghost of the darkness has been purged by the celestial energy, leaving behind a sanctuary that feels as though it were carved from the very stars. The golden light pulses with a rhythmic, heartbeat-like cadence, warming the marrow of my bones and filling my spirit with an overwhelming sense of finality. This is the culmination of every sacrifice, every war-torn night in the trenches, and every moment of doubt we endured to reach this precipice of destiny.The ancient elders and our loyal warriors fall to their knees, their hearts filled with absolute devotion as they witness the birth of a new era. Merle and S
The sudden explosion of sound tore the air apart, turning every stained-glass window in the grand throne room into a million lethal, glittering daggers, and the sanctuary instantly turning into a lethal storm of falling crystals. I throw my body over Aichonne once more, protecting her from the deadly rain of falling glass shards as they slice through the air.My broadsword clattered against the marble floor as I twisted my frame completely around her, using my thick pelts and my own muscular shoulders as an impenetrable shield against the razor-sharp tempest descending from above. The heavy glass fragments tore deep into my back and arms, hot blood soaking instantly through my tunic, but I didn't flinch, tightening my grip around her trembling form and burying my face against her neck to keep her entirely out of harm's way.The sound of shattering crystal was deafening, a relentless barrage that battered our position like a localized hailstorm of diamond-
I watch in absolute horror as a thin line of crimson blood trickles down Aichonne's neck, matching the path of Celine's silver blade. The sight is an aberration; a cruel unnatural reflection that defies the laws of nature and it chills my blood more than the frozen winds of the Frostpeak Highlands ever could.Aichonne lets out a small, choked gasp, her hand flying to the stinging, phantom wound that has appeared on her skin, her eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of terror and agonizing vulnerability. Celine, conversely, merely runs the edge of the blade against her own pale throat, her grin widening as she enjoys the power she wields over my mate.She is a mirror of chaos, a living conduit of pain who understands exactly how to shatter my resolve without ever having to draw a drop of my own blood.I command my warriors to stand down, realizing that any harm we inflict upon the sister will be instantly mirrored onto my beautiful mate.&
I raise my broadsword, the heavy steel humming with a low, dangerous resonance as I plant my feet firmly against the sand-covered floor. My protective alpha instincts are screaming, a cacophony of warning bells ringing in my mind as I stare at this mysterious, smiling lookalike who currently occupies the seat of my ancestors. Every muscle in my body is coiled, ready to bridge the distance between us in a single, lethal lunge, yet the terrifying reality of the tether holds me back. Beside me, Aichonne is visibly struggling; the presence of this woman, this ghost returned to haunt our victory, has thrown her into a state of paralyzed shock. The throne room is suffocating, the air thick with the scent of burnt lavender and something metallic, like the ozone that precedes a catastrophic storm. I keep my blade leveled at the usurper’s throat, refusing to lower my guard for even a heartbeat, waiting for the slightest opening to end this nightmare without costing Aichonne her life.Aichonn
We draw our weapons and cautiously step through the open iron gates, our boots crunching softly on the sand-covered stone floor. The courtyard, which should have been echoing with the frantic shouts of guards and the heavy boots of our garrison, was buried beneath an unnatural, deathly hush. The sand beneath us wasn't natural river grit; it was fine, pale ash that shifted and sighed with every step we took, radiating a faint, residual heat that felt like the dying embers of a massive, suppressed bonfire. I kept my broadsword raised high, the steel catching the dim, sickly grey light filtering through the broken portcullis above. Beside me, Merle and Shane moved with the silent, predatory grace of veteran alpha trackers, their eyes darting to every darkened alcove, every shattered archway, and every shadow cast by the towering fortress walls. We had fought our way through the mud trap of the outer bailey, but the true nightmare of this invasion was waiting for us inside the keep. Th
I struggle against the heavy, crushing mud as it rapidly rises to our chests, threatening to suffocate my elite warriors in a matter of minutes. The dark, viscous sludge possesses an unnatural, sentient suction that actively fights our every movement, pulling us deeper into the churning vortex with the force of a tidal wave. The air is thick with the choking stench of wet earth and sulfur, burning my lungs and blurring my vision as I thrash against the weight pressing down on my ribs. Around me, the vanguard is rapidly losing ground, men and women shouting muffled warnings as the sludge reaches their chins, turning the grand courtyard into a vast, drowning pool of subterranean mire. Every second we spend fighting the mud saps our strength, and the terrifying reality that we might lose our elite fighters without even striking a blow against a tangible enemy sends a spike of cold panic through my veins. I call out to our pack through our mental link, commanding everyone to shift into







