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Nine
publish date:
2026-07-07 22:55:51
Latest chapter
The Bastard Luna: His Unwanted Mate Thirty five
Elara's POVIt happened on an ordinary Sunday morning.Caden was at the kitchen table with coffee and a map he'd been annotating for the past hour. I was on the floor with Renn, who was four months old and had recently discovered that rolling sideways was possible and intended to do it repeatedly until the concept was fully mastered.He rolled. Made his declaration sound and looked at me.I said, "Yes, well done."He looked at Caden.Caden didn't look up from the map. He was mid-sentence, talking through a route detail, his finger tracing a line through the territory markings.Then he stopped.His finger stayed on the map. He didn't move. His whole body had gone the particular still of a wolf whose instincts had registered something before the conscious mind caught up.Slowly, he looked up.Renn was watching him with the calm, level attention he brought to things he found significant. Not smiling. Not making sounds. Just watching with those dark eyes that had been watching everything
The Bastard Luna: His Unwanted Mate Thirty four
Elara's POV Caden spread the Silverpeak documents across my kitchen table at nine in the evening. Renn was asleep. The flat was quiet. Two mugs of tea sat between us going cold because neither of us had touched them since he arrived. "Start with this one," Caden said, pushing a folder toward me. It was thick. Older paper inside — not ancient, but pre-digital, the kind of documentation assembled before everything moved to screens. Someone had organized it carefully, each page separated by a thin card with a date written in pencil. I opened it. The first page was a surveillance record. Pack intelligence, not Silverpeak — the header identified it as originating from a neutral intelligence broker, the kind of service that sold information to whoever paid. It was dated twenty years ago. Subject: Ren Ashford, female, estimated age 22. Last confirmed location: southern transit territory. Believed to be the final surviving descendant of the Ashford bloodline. Status: unaware of lineage
The Bastard Luna: His Unwanted Mate Thirty three
Damian's POV I confirmed it on a Wednesday. Not from the photograph — the photograph was insufficient for certainty and I had been rigorous about that distinction. What confirmed it was the voice recording. Marcus, following standard procedure for significant commercial refusals, had recorded the second meeting with written consent from all parties for internal review purposes. He had submitted it with his report and I had not listened to it until three days after it arrived, and then I had listened to it twice and sat in my office for a long time afterward doing nothing. Her voice was different. Controlled in a way it hadn't been at nineteen — deliberate, paced, carrying the particular authority of someone who had learned to use it as a tool. But underneath the control the cadence was the same. The way she built an argument, the slight emphasis that landed on the operative word in each sentence, the quality of the silence she left before a point she wanted the room to absorb. I
The Bastard Luna: His Unwanted Mate Thirty two
Elara's POV The meeting place was a hotel bar in a neutral town neither of us called home. Caden had chosen it. Round tables, low lighting, enough ambient noise that conversation didn't carry. I arrived ten minutes early, ordered tea I didn't intend to drink, and put Renn's carrier on the chair beside me where I could feel him breathing. They were already there. Two of them — a man and a woman, seated at the table across the room, watching the door. They had the specific stillness of wolves who had learned to hold it so long it looked like ease. The man was perhaps fifty, silver-haired, with the unhurried quality of someone who had stopped needing to prove things. The woman was younger, thirties, with a leather portfolio on the table in front of her and eyes that had already catalogued the room twice since I walked in. They saw me. They stood. Not in the polite social way people stand when someone approaches. In the other way — the instinctive way, the way your body moves before
The Bastard Luna: His Unwanted Mate Thirty one
Elara’s pov The letter arrived at four in the afternoon, while I was still sitting at the desk with the ticket in front of me. Petra brought it in with the expression she wore for things that didn't fit the standard categories — not a business envelope, not a personal letter, something smaller and more deliberate. A card, sealed with plain dark wax and addressed in handwriting that was formal and old-fashioned and had the quality of someone who had learned to write from a different tradition than the contemporary one. No return address. No name on the front — just mine, in full. Elara Ashford. I opened it. Inside was a card, cream-colored, with no letterhead and no signature. Two words, written in the same formal hand as the address. We know. I sat with those two words for a long moment. Then I turned the card over. On the back, in smaller but equally precise writing: We have always known. We have been waiting for you to be ready. We will wait longer, if you need it. But we wo
The Bastard Luna: His Unwanted Mate Thirty
Damian's POV The ceremony had been everything the pack needed it to be. I knew this because Councilman Bret had said so three times, and the allied representatives had expressed their approval through the standard channels, and Selene had moved through the whole of it with a grace that made even my most critical council members find nothing to comment on afterward. The pack had celebrated with genuine warmth. The photographs would be formal and correct. I stood at my office window at eleven that night, the house quiet around me, the ceremony finished and the guests dispersed, and felt the bond pull southward with an insistence it had not had in weeks. Something had happened today on the other end of it. Not distress — I had learned the texture of her distress from that one terrible week in the omega block, and this was different. Something more interior. A door considered and then not taken. I didn't know how I knew that. I knew it the way I knew things through the bond that I co
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