CHAPTER THREE

Quinn was still in shock over the events that occurred in the room. It was a carnage like he'd never before seen☆☆☆☆

The wailing of wolves echoed through the night, grief rippling through the kingdom as the bond between their Alpha and Luna was severed forever.  

But inside the birthing chamber, there was only silence.  

Romero stood frozen, his entire world collapsing around him.  

The firstborn was a girl.

Lillith was dead.

And the second child—the boy—had not let out a Sovereign’s Howl.  

This was wrong.   

His fingers twitched around the newborn boy in his arms. He barely registered the soft, struggling breaths of the infant—his son—because his mind was still reeling from the daughter that came first.  

He turned toward the still, pale woman on the bed, his chest aching. Lillith had named her before she died. 

Cinder.  

The name burned in his mind, filling him with an inexplicable rage. Twins? He could accept.

A female Alpha? The Moon Goddess did not choose females. She never had. 

The ancient laws were clear. A male heir was born to lead. That was the natural order. 

So why, then, had the Sovereign’s Howl come from her?  

The girl should not exist.  

A shadow moved at the door.  

Quinn.

His Beta stepped forward, his face drawn tight with sorrow. He had been standing just outside, but now—now his sharp gaze fell upon the children, the bloodied sheets, the lifeless form of the Luna.  

His nostrils flared.  

Then his eyes landed on Cinder. 

And he averted his eyes.  

"The firstborn… was really a girl?" His voice came hoarse, almost disbelieving.  

Romero didn’t answer.  

The room was too silent.  

Quinn took another step forward, his expression shifting from curiosity to acknowledgement then to something darker. He knew his Alpha pretty well by now. 

He turned his gaze to Romero, voice hardening,“Are you suggesting we keep her identity a secret?”

Romero exhaled, long and slow. His muscles were tight, his jaw clenched so hard it ached.  

"No one can know."

Quinn’s brows pulled together in alarm. “But it’s impossible, Your Highness. Her blood fate will shine through. We’ll be guilty of defying the Moon—”

"Do you think I don’t know that?" Romero snapped, his voice low, dangerous.  

Quinn stiffened, but his mouth pressed into a thin line.  

Romero turned away from him, staring down at the sleeping infant in his arms—the boy. 

The true heir.  

Then his gaze slid to the girl.  

She was still, quiet. Unnaturally so. Unlike the boy, who squirmed and whimpered, she simply existed. 

Romero felt his skin crawl.  

Cinder had inherited her mother’s eyes. Those piercing, knowing eyes. 

Quinn let out a sharp breath. He had caught on. A chill ran down his spine.  

The Beta stepped closer, voice low and urgent. “Romero… you are not saying what I think you are saying.”

Romero exhaled slowly.  

"The Moon Goddess gave me an heir," His voice was calm, measured. "But it is not her."  

Quinn’s breath hitched.  

“You can’t mean to—” 

Romero silenced him with a single glance. "I will not kill my daughter, Quinn." 

A beat.  

Then: "But she will never challenge her brother."

His voice was cold. Final.  

Quinn exhaled sharply. He knew what that meant.  

Romero’s hands were already moving, reaching for the small glass vial tucked in his coat.  

Quinn’s eyes widened in horror. “Romero, no.”

"This is for her own good,"the Alpha murmured, uncorking the vial.  

The scent of wolfsbane filled the air.  

Quinn took a step forward, frantic to snap his Alpha out of it. "This is not the way." 

Romero didn’t stop.  

He tilted the vial over his daughter’s lips, letting the poisonous liquid slip past them. 

The bitter herb slid down her throat, and though she barely reacted, her little body shuddered.

Quinn bit his lips till it drew blood. 

A child’s first taste of wolfsbane. 

It would weaken her bond to her wolf. It would stunt her growth. It would make sure she was never strong enough to challenge the 'rightful heir'. 

Quinn watched in stunned silence as Romero pulled away, sealing the vial once more.  

His hands were steady. His expression unreadable.  

Then he turned to Quinn.  

"Swear it."  

The Beta didn’t respond.  

Romero’s voice darkened. “Swear your silence, Quinn.”

Quinn's jaw clenched. He wanted to refuse. Gods, he wanted to.

He didn't know why he was battling this. His Alpha had just asked him to swear...

Then, finally, he gave a whisper.  

“I swear.” 

Romero held his gaze for a long moment, then exhaled.  

"Good."  

He turned away, looking over the room. The healers. The midwives. The guards stationed at the doors.  

Too many eyes.  

Too many witnesses.

A slow breath.  

A final decision.  

Romero’s voice was quiet when he spoke. Deadly.  

"Kill them all."  

Quinn’s breath hitched. "Romero—" 

"Every soul inside and outside this room. The secret dies with them." 

Quinn hesitated.  

Romero turned to face him fully, and his golden Alpha gaze burned. 

“I will not ask you again.”  

A tense silence.  

Then, finally—  

Quinn nodded.  

The order was given so he could do nothing but obey

And one by one, the midwives, the healers, the guards—everyone who had seen what had happened here tonight—fell.  

Their deaths were quick. Silent.  

By dawn, it was as if they had never existed.  

The kingdom would only know one truth. 

The Alpha Heir was born that night. A son.  

And the girl?  

She was nothing.  

She would never be anything.

And no one—no one—would ever know.

! ! ! SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER ! ! ! ☆☆☆

~CINDER:

Tradition.  

Bloody hell.

Same difference 

The wolves of the capital were a ceremonial folk. It was the night of the moonlit ceremony.

The moon hung heavy in the sky, silver and pitiless, casting its glow over the us. 

Wolves, dozens upon dozens, stood poised beneath its light, their scents coming together in the cool night air as they awaited the shift.  

I should’ve felt something. Excitement, reverence, at the very least belonging but all I felt was cold.  

At the center of it all stood Elio.  

Bathed in moonlight, he was every bit the golden heir our people revered. 

Tall, strong, the embodiment of everything a son of Romero should be. 

His blond hair gleamed like molten sunlight, his jaw cut sharp with a mouth that looked like mine. Even from here, I could feel the weight of his aura pressing against the gathered wolves.

The next Alpha. 

And me?  

Well I stayed in the shadows and i wasn't exactly well liked around here.

I was what they called a peculiarity. And these people didn't know how to feel around peculiarities.

My presence here was an obligation as part of tradition, nothing more.

I wondered how we could be in the mood to celebrate anything when our moon blessed barrier was dwindling. It had cracks and even holes now. 

The breaches opened at any time, anywhere, without warning. The warriors were stretched thin, and the people at the borders—where the barrier barely held—lived day by day, hoping to make it through another night.

And yet, here we were. Smiling. Celebrating. Pretending.

I was apparently here to mope and infect other unsuspecting people with my depressed self.

My fingers curled into my ceremonial robes, big, cumbersome, stiff and embroidered with silver thread meant to denote my status as the Alpha’s daughter. 

I didn't belong in these silks, just as I didn’t belong in this moonlit ceremony.  

Because unlike the wolves who would soon shift beneath the moon’s grace, I couldn’t.  

Unlike my brother, I had no pack link, no whispered voices in my mind binding me to my kin and I had never even heard my wolf’s voice.  

To me the goddess had forsaken me.

Yeah, that's my life.

I hummed a quiet tune under my breath, letting it drown out the ceremonial song chants that had begun to rise. 

It didn’t matter. It was the same thing every moonlit ceremony.  

I exhaled sharply, shifting my weight. 'This is pointless.' 

Then, I held my breath when I felt the change in the crowd.

I didn’t have to turn to know who had arrived.  

Romero.  

My father.  

The weight of his presence pressed against my skin like an unspoken command. Alpha. Sovereign. Almost untouched by time, his power had only sharpened with the years.  

When I finally looked, he was striding forward, flanked by his Beta, Quinn, and—  

My breath hitched.  

...Gamma Zulu. 

My shock must have shown because Quinn glanced at me, his face unreadable beneath the flickering torchlight.  

Zulu was here?  

His presence sent a chill through me. Not fear—no, something colder. A warning.  

Unlike my father and Quinn, Zulu did not walk with the quiet dignity of power. His presence was an edged thing. Sharp, watchful, measured. 

His uniform was pristine, his shoulders squared with the ease of a man accustomed to control.   

He wasn’t supposed to be here.  

Why was he here?

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was the general situated at the place most affected by the barrier breech.

Something wasn’t right.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my expression into something neutral as my father approached.  

But then Father's dark gaze landed on me.   

And I knew.  

Something was about to happen.  

Something that I wasn’t going to like.

Then he spoke.  

"Tonight, we honor Elio, the next Alpha of Vargrheim. He's been a driving force in our outreach to enter the politics and trade with other kingdoms. To show our sincerity with the Vampires, he'll be among the envoy sent to Erevar."  

A thunder of howls erupted through the crowd, a deafening chorus.

I looked at Elio's dumb face and wondered if he'd help talk to father to let me join in... impossible.

Romero waited for the noise to die before continuing, his voice cutting through the night like a blade.  

"As we look to the future, we must also uphold the past—our customs, our bonds."  

A pause.  

Then... 

"I am pleased to announce the union of my daughter, Cinder, to my Gamma, Zulu"  

Silence.  

A breath of stunned stillness then to my horror there was applause. These people didn't care about my supposed happy union. Not at all. In fact they were clapping for the sake of it, because it was expected.

Then, my own voice, sharp as a dagger cut through the celebration.

"No."  

The word rang out, slicing through the ceremonial hush like a death knell.  

I barely recognized the sound of my own voice—low, raw, furious.  

Murmurs spread like wildfire, wolves shifting uneasily, eyes flickering between me and my father.  

Romero’s gaze sharpened, his expression unreadable. "Cinder."  

"No," I repeated, stronger this time, stepping forward and away from beside the shadowed tree. My pulse thundered, my hands clenched into fists. "I will not marry him."  

Zulu’s eyes flickered, a glint of something unreadable passing through them. Quinn said nothing, his jaw tight, his face carefully blank.  

Father did not move.  

But I could feel it—the weight of his fury, the expectation of obedience, the suffocating command.

His voice was quiet, but the power beneath it was absolute.  

"This is not a request."  

Something inside me snapped. The moment he said it, I felt it.

An invisible force, heavy and unbearable, pressing into my skin, curling around my throat. Strangling me.

My body tensed, instincts screaming at me to submit. My vision blurred at the edges, my breathing turning shallow.

He was using the Alpha’s command on me. His own daughter.

"You fix my union without taking my feelings into consideration?" My voice rose, cutting through the tension like a whip. "Without my consent, without even speaking to me?" I didn't want to get married.

I gritted my teeth and shoved against the weight surrounding me. The air around me crackled and I could taste the copper in my mouth.

"The matter is settled," he said with a final tone.  

Like hell it was.  

My chest heaved, rage clawing up my throat like bile. "I. Said. No."

From my peripheral I saw Elio shake his head at me.

I might have been crazy to challenge Father but at that moment I didn't care.

I had just publicly disregarded the Alpha and I didn't care

And the moment the words of defiance had left my lips, I knew—  

If my life had been difficult before, it was about to become unbearable.