Chapter Twenty-two

My Father’s Oath

The pack house had never felt more like a prison.

I moved through the halls with the quiet grace of someone who had learned long ago to keep his head down. Wolves snarled in the training yards, voices carried from the Alpha’s chamber, but I kept to the shadows. It was the only way I survived here—silent, unseen.

But every whisper of Kimberly’s name cut me open.

My daughter. My only child.

They said she lived. They said she commanded shadows that burned even the Alpha. Some whispered in awe. Others spat in disgust. But all agreed—Kimberly was no longer the broken girl who had left us.

I should have felt pride. And I did. But pride was buried beneath a mountain of fear.

Because Derrick would not let her live.

I had seen the fury in his eyes, the hunger. He would hunt her until the end of his days, and if he caught her… the thought made my chest tighten until I could scarcely breathe.

I slipped into my study and closed the door. The walls were lined with old books, scrolls that spoke of the Blood Moon line. Secrets most had forgotten. Secrets I had preserved in silence, for Kimberly’s sake.

I lit a candle and pulled a journal from its hiding place. The pages were worn, the ink fading, but the words were burned into my memory: The Blood Moon’s chosen shall bear the shadow and the light. She will be the end of one reign and the beginning of another.

I pressed a trembling hand against the page. My wife had believed these words. She had told me Kimberly was destined for more than this pack, more than Derrick.

I hadn’t believed her. Not then. But now…

A knock broke my thoughts. I stiffened, quickly tucking the journal away. The door opened before I answered, and Catherine swept inside, her crimson gown whispering against the floor.

Her eyes, sharp and cold, fixed on me. “You’re hiding something.”

My jaw clenched. “You shouldn’t enter without permission.”

Her smile was cruel. “Permission? Don’t forget your place. You are tolerated here because of Kimberly—and even that tolerance is running thin.”

Rage burned in my chest, but I swallowed it. I couldn’t let her see it. Catherine thrived on weakness.

“I hide nothing,” I said evenly.

Her gaze flicked to the shelves, to the faint traces of dust disturbed where I had pulled the journal. For a moment, her smile sharpened. Then she stepped closer, her perfume cloying.

“She lives,” Catherine said softly, almost as though savoring the words. “And she grows stronger. But strength without control is dangerous. For all of us.”

My fists tightened at my sides. “She is not dangerous.”

“Oh, she is,” Catherine purred. “To Derrick. To Mona. To me. And soon, to you. Do you really think she will forgive you, when she learns you allowed her rejection? That you stood by while we cast her aside?”

Her words struck deep, twisting the guilt that already gnawed at me. I had failed Kimberly. I had bowed my head when I should have fought. I had chosen silence to keep her safe, but silence had destroyed her instead.

Catherine leaned close, her lips at my ear. “You will lose her twice. First to Derrick. Then to the shadows.”

I wanted to strike her, to tear the smile from her face. But I forced stillness. To lash out was to reveal too much.

When she left, the silence pressed heavy against my chest.

I sank into the chair, burying my face in my hands. She was right about one thing—I had stood by, and that sin would haunt me until my last breath.

But she was wrong about another.

I would not lose Kimberly again.

I reached into my desk and pulled out a sealed letter, one I had been writing in fragments, piece by piece. A warning, a plea, a father’s desperate words. I had no way to reach her safely. No way to guarantee it would find her hands before Derrick’s spies intercepted it.

But I had to try.

I pressed the pendant I had once given her against the seal, a symbol only she would recognize.

My hand trembled as I whispered into the empty room, as though my voice might find her across the miles.

“Forgive me, little wolf. Forgive my silence. But hear me now—I will protect you, whatever the cost. And if I cannot… then I will make sure you are remembered.”

The candle flickered, casting shadows across the journal, across the seal, across my shaking hands.

And in that moment, I swore the oath I should have sworn years ago:

I would stand against Derrick. Against Catherine. Against Mona.

For Kimberly.

For my daughter.

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