LOGINI wake up in a bed that's not mine.
That's my first thought. Before I open my eyes, before I remember anything—just that the sheets smell different. Like pine and something else. Something clean and sharp.
Then everything comes rushing back. The rejection. The run. The rain. The wolves.
I sit up so fast my head spins. White walls. Big windows. A fireplace in the corner with actual fire burning. I'm in someone's house. Someone's room. And I'm wearing clothes that aren't mine—a soft gray t-shirt that hangs past my thighs, no bra, no pants.
My heart starts slamming against my ribs.
The door opens and I freeze.
A girl, maybe a year or two younger than me, with dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and eyes that are almost silver—like the guy from last night. She's carrying a tray with a bowl of something steaming.
"Oh good, you're awake." She sets the tray on the nightstand like she's known me forever. "I'm Maya. You're in my brother's house. You've been out for like, eighteen hours. The healer said you'd probably sleep through till morning but here you are, blinking at me like a confused kitten." She grins. "Cute look, by the way."
I just stare at her. My brain can't catch up.
"Right, you're probably wondering about the clothes." Maya plops onto the edge of the bed like she's known me forever. "Esther—she's our healer—she stripped you down because you were soaked and freezing. The shirt's Damian's. Hope you don't mind. You didn't have much on under that dress anyway and it was totally ruined, like, beyond saving, so—"
"Damian." I find my voice. It's scratchy. "The guy from last night. He carried me here."
"Yep. Our illustrious Alpha." She rolls her eyes but there's affection in it. "He's been lurking outside your door all night. Won't admit it, but I caught him." She leans in. "I've never seen him like this. He usually doesn't bring stray wolves home."
"I'm not a stray."
"I know." She says it softer now. "I know you're not. I'm sorry. That came out wrong." She pushes the tray toward me. "Eat. It's just broth. Esther said start slow."
I look at the bowl. My stomach turns at the smell. But I pick up the spoon anyway, because she's watching, because I don't know what else to do.
"It's rejection sickness, right?" Maya asks. Not mean. Just curious. "I've heard about it but never seen it. You must have been really close to sealing the bond."
I almost drop the spoon.
"How did you—"
"The way you smell." She shrugs. "Like broken mate bond. It's got a specific scent. Sad and burnt at the same time." She pauses. "Caden Ahearn, right? Word travels fast. Even to enemy packs."
I put the spoon down. Can't eat anymore.
"Look." Maya shifts on the bed. "I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're going through. But my brother—Damian—he doesn't do things without reason. He brought you here. Saved you. That means something." She stands. "I'll go get him. You should talk."
She's out the door before I can say no.
---
Damian doesn't knock.
He just appears in the doorway, filling it with his height, his shoulders, that intense stare. He's dressed now—dark jeans, a simple black sweater. His hair is dry, pushed back from his face. The scar through his eyebrow is more noticeable in the firelight.
He doesn't come in. Just stands there, watching me.
"You're awake." His voice is the same as last night. Low. Careful.
"Apparently." I pull the blanket higher. Stupid, because the shirt covers everything, but I feel exposed anyway. "Your sister said you've been lurking."
Something flickers across his face. Embarrassment? "She talks too much."
"She seems nice."
"She's a nightmare." He says it like a compliment. Still doesn't move from the doorway. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got hit by a truck. Then backed over. Then set on fire."
One corner of his mouth twitches. Almost a smile. "Rejection sickness. It'll pass. A few days, maybe a week. Esther left herbs. Maya can show you—"
"Why?"
He stops. Looks at me properly.
"Why did you save me?" My voice cracks. "You don't know me. I'm from an enemy pack. I could be anyone. I could be—"
"You were dying." He says it simply. Like that explains everything.
"People die all the time. Rogues kill people every day. You can't save everyone."
"No." He steps into the room now. Just one step. "But I can save the ones who end up on my land."
"That's not a reason."
"It's the only reason I need."
I shake my head. This doesn't make sense. Alphas don't rescue random wolves from enemy packs. They don't carry them home and give them beds and stand guard outside doors. They just don't.
"What do you want from me?" I hear myself ask it. "What's the price?"
His face changes. Hardens. "There's no price."
"Everyone wants something. Caden wanted a Luna who looked good on his arm. His mother wanted me gone. His brother wanted—" I stop. Swallow. "Everyone wants something. So what is it? Information? A debt? What do I owe you?"
Damian crosses the room in three strides. Stops at the foot of the bed. Looks down at me with those silver-gray eyes that seem to see right through everything.
"You owe me nothing." His voice is quiet but it fills the room. "You were bleeding on my land. I stopped the bleeding. That's it. No contract. No debt. No expectations." He pauses. "I'm not Caden."
I flinch at the name.
"Yeah." He notices. "I can see that's going to take a while."
"I don't need your pity."
"Good. Because I'm not offering it." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'm offering you a place to heal. After that, you can do whatever you want. Stay. Leave. Doesn't matter to me."
"Then why do you look at me like that?"
The question slips out before I can stop it. I don't even know what I mean by it. But he does. Something shifts in his eyes—darkens, deepens.
"Like what?"
"Like..." I can't find the words. "Like I matter to you—"
He's quiet for a long moment. The fire crackles. Somewhere in the house, a door closes.
"My parents died five years ago." He says it like it costs him something. "Rogues. I found them. Became Alpha at twenty-two. Raised Maya alone. Built this pack from nothing." He looks at me. "I know what it's like to feel like the world ended and you're the only one who—."
My eyes sting. I look away.
"I'm not trying to be your savior." His voice is softer now. "I'm just... I found you in the rain, half-dead, and something in me couldn't walk away. That's all. That's the whole truth."
I don't know what to say. Don't know what to do with this—this man who saved me for no reason, who stands there with his hands in his pockets like he's not the most powerful Alpha in the region, who looks at me like I'm actually a person instead of a problem.
"You should rest." He turns toward the door. "Maya will check on you later. If you need anything—"
"Damian."
He stops. Looks back.
"Thank you." My voice breaks on it. "For not letting me die."
He nods. Once. "Get some sleep, Selena."
He leaves. The door clicks shut behind him.
I lie back against the pillows. Stare at the ceiling. My body still aches. My chest still feels hollow where the bond used to be. But for the first time since Caden spoke those words, I don't feel like I'm drowning.
I don't know what that means.
I don't know what any of this means.
But when I close my eyes, I don't see Caden's cold face. I don't hear the rejection echoing in my skull.
I see silver eyes. Rain-soaked hair. A strange man.
And I fall asleep wondering if maybe—just maybe—the Moon Goddess didn't abandon me after all.
Maybe she just had a different plan.
---
I wake to shouting.
Male voices. Angry. I sit up, heart pounding, and listen. The words are muffled but the tone is clear—someone's furious.
The door bursts open. Maya.
"Stay here." She says it fast. "Don't move. Don't make noise. I'll be back."
"What's happening?"
She's already gone.
I throw off the blanket anyway. My legs are shaky but they hold. I pad to the window, peer through the curtains.
Below, in the front yard of the house, a crowd has gathered. Pack members. Dozens of them. And at the center—Damian, facing off against a group of men I don't recognize. Their postures are aggressive. Their scents, even from here, are wrong.
Bloodmoon.
They're from Bloodmoon.
And standing at the front, arms crossed, expression carved from ice—
Caden.
He's here.
He found me.
Caden's POVI’ve got my phone in hand. Maya's sitting next to me, her shoulder nearly brushing against mine. We haven’t said a word in an hour, just stuck in this heavy silence, neither of us sure what to say.Suddenly, my phone buzzes.I glance at the screen. It’s a council-wide message. Red letters. The official seal.Elena Ahearn has been executed by order of the Council. Sentence carried out at Eventide. No further appeals.I can’t take my eyes off the words.Executed.Elena Ahearn.My mother.The phone feels like it’s weighing me down. The letters start to blur.Around me, there are more buzzing phones. Warriors check their screens. Healers freeze mid-step. Someone murmurs, “Elena’s dead.”I’m rooted to the spot.Maya leans in, reading over my shoulder. Her expression is unreadable.“Caden.”I don&rsquo
Caden's POVThe fog clears up. The valley is stained red.I’m standing on the eastern ridge, sword resting loosely in my hand. Below, the rogues are regrouping for another assault. Our fighters are battered and worn out, but they’re still holding strong. Damian stands at the center, his dark wolf pacing back and forth, waiting.I scan the slope. There are bodies everywhere.And then, I spot him.Lucas.He’s at the forefront of the enemy line, his shirt ripped, sword held high. His face looks thinner than I remember, eyes hollow yet burning with intensity. He’s shouting something to the rogues behind him, pointing up towards our ridge.My chest tightens.I lift my hand. The archers beside me lower their bows.“Captain,” one of them says. “He’s in range.”“No.”“If we take him out—”“I said no.&rdquo
Selena's POVThe afternoon sun warms the canvas above me.I slowly come to, my body feeling heavy and my head still in a fog. I’m on a cot, a blanket draped over me. Damian's arms are wrapped around me as he sleeps behind, his chest pressed to my back, arm resting over my waist, keeping me snug.I don't move. Honestly, I don’t want to.The tent feels different. It's bigger now. There are more cots—rows of them stretching into the shadows. Most have warriors on them, bandaged and exhausted. The battle is over. We barely made it through, but we won.Greta is curled up on a cot near the entrance, still in her bloodstained apron, snoring softly with her mouth open. She worked all night long without a break, didn’t even eat. I think about waking her, but I don't.I glance around. There are new tents set up outside—I can see them through the gaps in the canvas. New wooden poles, fresh canvas, the red cro
Selena's POVThe scream pierces the air from the ridge.I’m up on my feet before I even fully register what’s happening. Greta’s at the tent entrance, her face ashen, while Rina hurriedly grabs bandages, her hands trembling.I push past them to take a look outside.Fire lights up the eastern valley—torches, hundreds of them, moving up the slope. Viktor didn't wait for dawn to make his move.“Sound the alarm!” someone yells.Horns blast through the night. Warriors spill out of their tents, grabbing weapons, shifting into action, running. At the forefront, Damian's already transformed into his wolf form, his dark fur blending into the shadows.The rogues crash into our line like a relentless wave.Suddenly, the first injured start arriving before I’m even prepared.A warrior stumbles into the tent, his arm missing below the elbow, blood streaming down his side, soakin
Selena's POVThe tent is really quiet now.Most of the injured are stable, sleeping peacefully, their bandages clean. Greta moves around, checking on everyone, feeling pulses, adjusting blankets. Rina’s curled up in a corner, looking completely exhausted, her head resting on a pile of cloth.I’m at the far end, my hands resting in my lap. They’re still tingling, a faint warmth lingering. Greta was right; I can’t heal much more. Not without putting the babies at risk.The tent flap opens, and Damian steps inside.He looks different in the soft lamplight. Softer, maybe. He comes over and sits beside me on the cot.“You haven’t slept yet?”“No, I don’t know when the wounded might need me.”He takes my hands in his. “They’re cold.”“I’ve been healing all day.”He rubs my hands between his palms, trying to warm
Damian's POVThe healers' tent is set up on the rise behind the eastern ridge. It has canvas walls, wooden poles, and the red cross painted on the side. Greta got it ready before dawn. Selena’s inside, but I can’t see her from here, and I don’t look back.Below us, the eastern valley stretches out, gray in the morning light. Viktor's army is down there, a dark mass moving like a living creature. There might be twelve hundred of them. Maybe more.My warriors are ready. Borgov is on the left flank, Caden on the right, and Maya's got the reserves hidden among the trees.I shift, and it sends a ripple through me—bones crack, muscles stretch, and fur pushes out through my skin. My wolf is massive, dark, and hungry. Others shift around me, some staying human with swords and spears in hand. We present a mix of forms, a wall of teeth and steel.Then the horns sound.Viktor's army is on the move.The first
Selena's POV~The message sits on my phone like an annoying splinter.I've read it over and over since last night. *If you want to know about Kael, come to Bloodmoon. Alone.* No name, no explanation—just a promise that I can’t ignore and a condition I can’t accept.Damian is already in motion, maki
The car moves through darkness, headlights cutting a narrow path through trees that have stood here for centuries. Marcus sits up front with Damian, giving directions in a low voice. Maya is beside me in the back, her knife already in her hand, her jaw set. Caden rides in the vehicle behind us with
The paper doesn't change. I keep staring at it, hoping the letters will somehow shift into something that makes sense.*Samuel Hayes.*My dad. The man who raised me. Who held me when Mom passed away. Who risked everything to help me against Elena. Who stood by my side.Damian's hand covers mine. "S
The council room hasn't changed.Same long wooden table. Same older wolves in dark robes. Same smell of old paper and candle wax and fear. I stood here once, years ago, when my mother died and they officially recognized my father as Beta. He held my hand through the whole thing.Now he's in a cell







