MasukPain throbbed in Selene's skull. Her eyelids became heavy, but she opened them and froze at the view that met her.
A man stood watching her, arms folded over his broad torso. However blurred her vision, she could not possibly miss striking features: sharp jawline, intense dark eyes, and a scar curving along his neck. Something about his presence made her wolf want to go up...
Her wolf. Where is her wolf?
"Finally, you wake up, my princess?" His voice was battered, just about funny. "That dress is beautiful, or at least half of it."
Selene shot up, ignoring the wave of dizziness. "Get back!"
"Or what? You will tumble at me?" His eyes flickered to her hurt ankle. "You can hardly stand."
Still, she pushed herself up, gritting her teeth against the ache. Fight or flight instincts screamed for her to run, yet her legs betrayed her, buckling as soon as she attempted to put weight on them. The man was supernatural in speed when he snatched her out of the fall.
“Little stubborn wolf aren't you?"
"Don't touch me!" Panic gushed through her chest as she struggled against him. "I told you not to-". Selena passed out again.
Two days later, Selene woke up again. The first face she saw in her post-coma was that of a stranger.-dark but watchful and measured-his eyes were studying her as if she were some puzzle he was trying to figure out. Her throb- bing head insisted she did try to focus her gaze on the stranger's face.
"Look who finally deigned to arise from the dead." His voice was silky sweet-like a sarcastic caress- "You were out from here for nearly two days."
Two days? She struggled to sit up, tilting precariously. Panic shot through her.
"Take it easy, girl," he said when he moved closer, and she slightly recoiled back. Understanding passed over his expression. "I'm not going to hurt you. If I wanted to, I wouldn't have spent the last forty-eight hours keeping you alive."
"Where am I?" Her voice came out raspy. "Who-"
"You're safe. That's all you need to know right now." He reached for a water glass on the bedside table.
Selene went straight into survival mode and bolted for the door, ignoring the screaming pain in her ankle. The stranger moved faster than she thought, blocking her escape.
"Does this kind of stubborn behavior run in your family, or is this just my lucky day?"
"Just step aside," she snarled, drawing her wolf strength to herself.
The color drained from her face.
"She's gone," Selene whispered. "I can't feel her. Why can't I feel her?"
Something shifted in the stranger's expression - pity maybe, or recognition. "Sit down before you fall down. Please."
That gentle 'please' undid her. Her legs gave out, and he caught her before she hit the floor. This time, she was too shocked to fight him.
"I'm Rowan," he said quietly, helping her back to the bed. "And you're safer not shifting right now anyway. Those rogues are still out there."
Then all the events of the night came rushing back: the ceremony, the betrayal by Caden, the attack. A choked sound escaped her throat.
"Ah hell, don't cry," Rowan said, running a hand through his hair and looking uncomfortable. "Agnes! She's awake and she's... leaking.”
"For heaven's sake, boy, some sensitivity." An aged woman came into the room, silver braids swinging while she shooed Rowan aside. She sat by Selene, taking her trembling hands. "There now, child. Let it out. You should be crying instead of burning in fury at this time when your wolf is so frail."
"I can't understand," she was saying, her voice cracking, "what's happening to me?"
"Rejection trauma," Agnes simply said. "Your wolf stopped protecting both of you, and she will return when ready again."
"Ready for what?"
"To accept that sometimes the first step to finding something greater is that you lose everything..." Her eyes caught the brief gaze of Rowan.
"Very profound," muttered Rowan, but somehow there was respect in his tone. He went up the window all of a sudden tensed. "We've got company. Three pack patrols, just crossed into the valley."
"Looking for me?" asked Selene.
"Well, unless there's another runaway wolf I should know about in a shredded ceremony dress, then..."
Perhaps miraculously, Selene felt a hysterical laugh rising within her. "You are something of a jerk, you know that?"
"So I've been told." His lip quirked. "Repeatedly."
"Both of you, quiet." Agnes suddenly stood up, her face grave. "Something is wrong. The wind has changed."
They fell into hush, listening. In the distance, howls turned high-not the organized sounds of patrol but the savage cries of rogues.
"They're being herded," Rowan growled. "The patrols aren't hunting her. They're being hunted."
"The rogues," Selene struggled to get to her feet. "They're going to be slaughtered-"
"Not your problem." Rowan's hand on her shoulder pressed her back down. "You can hardly walk, never mind fight."
"They're my pack!"
"The same pack that stood and watched you as they humiliated you?" His words cut like physical blows. "The same pack that allowed you to run through the woods on your own?”
"Rowan," Agnes grumbled warningly, previously dashing away in attack mode.
"You don't know anything about me or my pack!" Her finger jabbed his chest. "You don't know what I've lost!"
"Don't I?" His eyes flared with something ancient and painful. “Were you under the illusion that only you were ever betrayed by those in whom you had placed trust?”
The howls grew closer. Agnes grabbed both their arms.
"Children," her voice held power that made them both freeze. "We have exactly three minutes before this cabin is overrun. So unless you'd both like to die arguing, I suggest we move. Now."
Thunder cracked overhead as they stared at each other, neither backing down. In the distance, something screamed - a sound no natural wolf could make.
"Fine," Rowan broke first. "And when this goes bad - and it will - remember I told you so."
Selene lifted her chin. "I'll add it to the list of things I'm not going to thank you for."
For the first time, a real smile crossed his face. "I think I'm starting to see why your wolf needed a break from you."
Selene shot him a dreadful look. "I'll add it to the list of things I'm not going to thank you for."
Agnes threw up her hands. "Moon goddess, save me from stubborn pups. Now move!”
The council chamber was filled to its edges with wolves, elders, guards, and pack members pressed shoulder to shoulder, the great stone hall that had so often been a place of law and custom now thrumming with tension so sharp that even a breath felt dangerous. The High Elder stood at the dais, his silver robes clinging to him as though stitched from the moonlight itself, his hand lifted as if the air belonged to him, his voice cold as frost and loud enough to drown out the pounding hearts of those who waited.“Selene of the Silver Moon,” he declared, “you stand accused of blasphemy, of rebellion, and of wielding powers not blessed but cursed. You will answer before this council, and the moon will judge you.”Selene lifted her chin, her dark hair spilling across her shoulders, her silver eyes holding firm even as chains bound her wrists. Rowan stood behind her, his stance broad and steady, his very presence a wall between her and those who would rather see her broken. Across the chambe
The silence that followed Selene’s declaration was short-lived. The chamber erupted into chaos, the High Elder slamming his staff against the stone dais with such force that cracks split the marble beneath his feet. His voice rose, not as a command but as a desperate scream, the sound of a man who felt power slipping from his grasp.“Seize her! Seize them all!”But no one moved. The Pack—hundreds of wolves pressed into the chamber—hesitated. Their eyes flicked between Selene’s shining figure and the trembling Elder, between the silver light still burning in her eyes and the black shards of the shattered chain at her feet.It was Rowan who spoke first, his voice carrying over the din, steady and cutting. “Do you see it? Do you still believe her cursed, when she survived the very weapon meant to end her? Do you still call her a danger, when it is your own leaders who kept forbidden poison hidden?”A murmur spread, uncertain but growing. Fenric stepped forward, his towering presence comm
The chamber shook with voices like thunder, the Pack splintering before Selene’s eyes. Wolves snarled at one another across the stone floor, some demanding blood, others crying for freedom, and still others frozen in uncertainty. The air grew hot with bodies pressed close, with the weight of fear turned to anger. For all the centuries of order, the council had never seemed so fragile.And then the High Elder raised his hand.From the folds of his robe, he drew something small, cold, gleaming—a shard of black stone etched with silver runes. The sight of it made Selene’s stomach clench, though she didn’t yet know why. Fenric’s expression, however, changed at once. For the first time since stepping into the chamber, his face hardened with something close to alarm.“No,” Fenric murmured, his voice sharp. “You dare.”The High Elder’s voice boomed above the uproar. “If the Pack is divided, let the moon itself bear witness. If she is chosen, she will endure. If not—let the curse end here.”H
The chamber still trembled from the echo of Fenric’s voice, the word exile burning through the air like fire that could not be extinguished. Selene’s heart beat so hard she thought the sound alone would draw every eye to her, yet all gazes remained locked upon the figure who had emerged from shadows thought long sealed. Fenric stood motionless, his presence enough to unmake silence, violet eyes reflecting the pale light that filtered down from the narrow shafts above. His breath came slow, steady, unhurried, as though time itself obeyed him, and the council of Elders, for the first time in living memory, looked unsettled.The High Elder rose from his stone seat, his robe trembling against his shoulders though his voice came out sharp. “This is no council for the dead. You were cast out, Fenric of the Broken Moon. Your blood is severed, your name stripped, your voice silenced. You are nothing.”Fenric tilted his head slightly, almost in pity, though no smile touched his mouth. “If I we
The echo of the howl still lingered in the council chamber, pressed into every stone and bone like a memory that refused to fade. Selene’s pulse raced, her body trembling not only from fear but from recognition, as if something in that sound had spoken directly to the marrow of her being.The High Elder remained frozen on the dais, his hand half-lifted in a command he no longer seemed able to give. Around him, the other elders whispered furiously to one another, their voices low, sharp, cutting, yet threaded with unease that none of them could mask.And then the chamber doors groaned.The iron hinges shrieked as though wrenched by an invisible force, dust shaking loose from the ancient arch above. The wolves lining the benches leapt to their feet, their instincts surging, some growling low in their throats, others retreating, ears flat with unease.Rowan stepped in front of Selene without hesitation, his shoulders squared, his wolf rising just beneath his skin, a presence fierce and s
The council chamber loomed vast and cold, carved into the heart of the mountain like a cathedral to judgment. Tall pillars of black stone rose to meet a vaulted ceiling, etched with runes that glimmered faintly under the torchlight, their meaning lost to most but still carrying the weight of law older than memory. At the far end of the chamber sat the Council of Elders, thirteen figures draped in robes of shadow and silver, their faces caught between torchlight and darkness. Their eyes glowed faintly, wolf-light hidden yet never fully suppressed, as though each elder sat not only as man but as beast.Selene and Rowan were led down the center aisle, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Every sound seemed magnified, the scrape of their boots, the faint rustle of Rowan’s coat as his hand brushed hers for the briefest moment, even the uneven breath she fought to steady. The chamber was nearly full, wolves gathered along the tiered stone benches that lined the sides, their voices held b







