LOGINI didn't sleep that night.
I lay there staring at the ceiling of a room that wasn't mine, in a bed that smelled like cedar and smoke instead of home, replaying those two guards' voices over and over until the words stopped making sense from repetition. He didn't have a choice. Orders. Someone had ordered Kane to reject me. In front of the entire pack. On our bonding night. By the time the first gray light of morning crept through the window, I'd made up my mind. I wasn't going to sit in this beautiful, borrowed room and wait politely for answers to be handed to me. I was going to get them myself. I found Ronan in a room down the hall that looked like some cross between a war room and a library, maps spread across a long table, guards speaking to him in low voices that cut off the second I stepped through the door. He looked up, and something in his expression shifted when he saw me — not quite a surprise, more like he'd been expecting this exact confrontation eventually, just not this early. "Everyone out," he said, and the room emptied in seconds. "You knew," I said, before the door had even fully shut behind the last guard. "Last night. When you said rejection doesn't happen without cause. You already suspected something, didn't you?" Ronan didn't bother denying it. "I suspected. I didn't know." "And now?" He studied me for a long moment, weighing something behind those gold eyes. "Sit down, Luna." "I don't want to sit down. I want you to tell me what you know." "Sit down," he said again, quieter this time, and something about the low, steady command in his voice made my body obey before my mind caught up with the decision. I hated that. I hated it and some traitorous part of me also didn't hate it at all, and I really didn't have the emotional bandwidth to examine that particular feeling right now. He came around the table and leaned against it, arms crossed, close enough that I had to tilt my head up to hold his gaze. "The Elder Council governs pack law across the territory. They answer to no single Alpha, which means they have the authority to override a bond if they believe it threatens pack stability." "Threatens it how? I'm nobody. My family's barely tolerated as it is." "That's what I intend to find out." His jaw tightened. "But I have a theory, and you're not going to like it." "Tell me anyway." "Your bloodline isn't disgraced by accident, Luna. Disgrace like that — generational, permanent, the kind that follows a family for decades — usually gets manufactured. Someone benefits from your family staying weak and dependent. I think someone's been benefiting from it for a long time." The floor felt like it tilted slightly beneath me. "That's not — my father made mistakes. Business mistakes, years ago, before I was even born. That's why—" "Is that what you were told, or what you witnessed?" I opened my mouth to argue and found I didn't actually have an answer. Every story about my family's disgrace had come secondhand, from whispers and hallway gossip and the careful, clipped way my parents avoided the subject entirely. I'd never actually seen proof of anything. Before I could untangle that thought further, the door burst open. A woman stood in the doorway, dark-haired, sharp-featured, dressed in pack colors I didn't immediately recognize, flanked by two guards who looked distinctly unhappy about letting her through. She scanned the room until her eyes landed on me, and something cold and calculating settled over her expression. "So the rumors are true," she said, voice dripping with false sweetness. "The King really is harboring a rejected mate." "Selene." Ronan's voice went flat, dangerous in a way I hadn't heard from him yet. "You weren't invited." "I don't need an invitation to retrieve pack property." Her eyes flicked to me, dismissive and hungry all at once. "Luna Hart belongs to the Voss pack, Your Majesty, rejection or not. Her presence here, uninvited, on Lycan land, violates at least three treaties I can think of off the top of my head." "She's a guest," Ronan said. "She's a liability." Selene took a step further into the room, entirely unbothered by the way the temperature seemed to drop several degrees the moment she did. "Kane wants her back. The pack needs her back, whether she's bonded to him or not. There are... complications... to a rejection of this public. Things that require her presence to resolve." Something about the way she said complications made my skin crawl. "What complications?" I asked. Selene's smile was thin, sharp, entirely without warmth. "That's between the pack and its Alpha, sweetheart. Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Just come home quietly, and we can avoid this becoming a diplomatic incident." "She's not going anywhere," Ronan said, and the authority in his voice made even Selene's confident posture falter slightly. "With respect, Your Majesty, that's not your decision. She's not bonded to you. She has no claim here, no protection under Lycan law, nothing that gives you the right to keep pack property against pack wishes." "Then I suppose we'll have to change that," Ronan said quietly. The room went very, very still. Selene's eyes narrowed, the calculating look sharpening into something closer to alarm. "What are you suggesting?" Ronan didn't look at her when he answered. He looked at me, gold eyes steady, unreadable, and something in that look made my heart slam hard against my ribs. "I'm suggesting," he said, "that Luna Hart isn't going back to a pack that already tried to discard her once. Not while there's a way to keep her here permanently." I stared at him, the room suddenly feeling very small, very warm, very much like the walls were closing in around a decision I hadn't agreed to make yet. "Ronan," I said carefully. "What exactly are you suggesting?" He held my gaze for one long, charged moment before he finally answered. "A Lycan bonding. Between you and me.”The road to the Watchtower felt longer than it should have, every mile stretching the silence between us. I kept Marcus's unfinished letter tucked against my chest, inside my coat, close enough to feel it crinkle with every movement of the horse beneath me.If they find you, I will.I'm not letting someone else decide what happens next."You're expecting Marcus to be there?" Ronan asked, riding close beside me."I don't know what I'm expecting anymore," I admitted. "But I need him to have left something behind."We reached the old border station as the light was failing, the sky bruising purple at the edges. The Watchtower rose up out of the hills, weathered but intact — stone walls, a collapsed storage building off to one side, an old watch platform still standing against decades of weather. No magic hummed in the air here. No symbols waited to glow. Just an abandoned military post, forgotten when the Council reorganized its border defenses."This is it," Pell confirmed, checking the
"What do you mean, when it was supposed to end?" I asked.Pell set the identification card down carefully. "The original Witness confirmation was meant to be the final administrative record of the transfer. Once it was filed, Marcus had no further role. His part was finished." He tapped the second notation. "Unless something changed."I stared at the two lines again. Witness confirmed. And beneath it, in different ink, added much later: Witness recalled."How much later?" I asked.Pell examined the ink more closely, checking it against the record number. "Twenty years ago."I did the math without meaning to. Seven years after my transfer. I would have been seven years old.Pell found a small folded record tucked inside the compartment, attached to Marcus's identification. Not a full report. Just a confirmation form, brief and administrative.Protected subject located.Identity unchanged.Protection remains active.Witness confirmation required."Located?" I asked. "They already knew w
If we don't reach him first.The sentence kept circling through my head the whole way to the border settlement, steady as the horse's hooves on the road. For twenty-seven years, Marcus Vale had lived somewhere out here, carrying knowledge of my childhood the way the rest of us carried ordinary memories. I wondered if he remembered my face. If he'd ever lain awake wondering what had become of the little girl he'd helped hide."You're thinking about him," Ronan said, riding close beside me."I'm thinking about what it will feel like," I admitted, "to meet someone who remembers me before I remember myself."He didn't try to answer that. There wasn't really an answer to give.The settlement was nothing like Hollow Crown, or the stronghold, or any of the places this mystery had taken me so far. No ancient magic humming under old stone. Just a practical, worn-down border town — small shops, territorial guards leaning against doorframes, retired officials and travelers who'd chosen quiet liv
"If she remembers the Crown, they'll come for her." I said it again, quieter this time, like saying it twice might shake loose something more.Ronan was quiet for a moment, watching me in the cooling evening light. "Who said it?""I don't know. I never saw his face. Just his hand." I thought about it, the memory still fragile, still liable to slip away if I pressed too hard. "There was a ring. Old. A crown-like symbol, but not the one we keep running into. Not the black mark.""That matters," Ronan said."I know.""Then we're not looking for one person anymore," he said slowly. "We're looking for two. One who hid you. And one who was afraid of what would happen if you remembered."I looked at him. "He could have been the reason I survived.""He could have," Ronan agreed, and didn't try to make it simpler than that.We went back inside together, and I asked Pell to show me the childhood transfer record again. He laid it carefully on the table, and this time I made myself read every lin
"What did you tell me that day?"My mother didn't answer right away. She was still staring at me the way you stare at something you thought was buried and just watched climb out of the ground on its own."Luna—""Don't." My voice came out harder than I meant it to. "Don't soften it. Don't manage me. I want to know what you said to me, in this room, when I was a child."So I told her. The sanctuary. Her hand around mine. My own small voice, and hers, close and urgent. If you ever come back here, don't let them tell you who you are.Her face went pale while I spoke, and I understood, watching her, that she wasn't surprised I remembered something. She was shaken that it was real."Why was I here?" I asked.She didn't answer."Why did you tell a child not to let anyone tell her who she was?"A long silence. Then, quietly: "Because someone already knew enough about you to come looking.""Who knew?" I asked."I don't know exactly how much they knew." She wrapped her arms around herself, a g
I stared at my mother. "Wake them how?"She didn't answer right away. She looked at the stone floor, then at the sealed cabinets, then anywhere but at me."Mom.""Luna...""You can't tell me all of this and then expect me to pretend that words doesn't matter."Her shoulders dropped, just slightly. It was the way she used to look when I was little and had caught her in something."It's an old term," she said. "From the Protector system. It doesn't mean waking from sleep.""Then what does it mean?""Restoring what was deliberately hidden."The room went cold. Or maybe I did."Their identity?" I asked."Their identity. Their memories. Their connection to the old system."I made myself say it. "So the Keeper was made to forget.""Not exactly.""Don't do that. Don't give me a half answer and call it a correction.""I'm not." Her voice cracked on it. "They weren't erased, Luna. Nobody reached into a child's head and tore things out. They were prevented from remembering. That's different.""







