LOGINLamia Blackmoor POV
“You met her very briefly at Ethan Silverfang's party,” Rham says. He looks at the floor because he cannot look at me. “It is Jasmine's friend, Christine.”
“Christine Thornfield?” I say.
My heart hits my ribs very hard. My mouth feels dry like dirt.
“Yes,” Rham says.
“You are a fool!” I yell at him. “She is a nobody wolf from the low ranks! She has no ancient wolf legacy. She works for me at the Silvermoon Herald Agency! I am the golden girl of the Blackmoor Moonfang Pack. I made the Mooncrest Artisan Hall famous across the whole territory! You are throwing away our fated moonmate alliance for a low wolf?”
“She is not a gold digger,” Rham says. His voice gets tight, and his eyes flash green for a second. “She does not care about pack resources. My father, King Aldric, just cut me off anyway. I have no title. I am no longer the Chosen Alpha Candidate for your family.”
“I do not care about love!” I scream. “This is pack business! You do not walk away from a covenant that took thirty years to make just because your wolf is scared!”
“It is not fear, Lamia,” he says, sounding like a proud prince. It makes me want to claw his face. “I want a real mate bond. Not a fake deal made by our parents when we were little pups. You are beautiful and a great leader. You deserve an Alpha who wants only you.”
“Do not wish me well!” I shout. “The Grand Wolf Assembly will laugh at me! The newspapers in Silvercrest Capital will call me a joke! I made this Blood Moon Celebration my whole life!”
I feel so much hot shame on my skin. It burns me. All the female wolves who hate me will smile now. They will see me get left behind. I will be the girl who lost the Silverclaw Throne.
“I can tell the pack elders it was your choice,” Rham says, trying to be nice.
“Shut your mouth and let me think!” I scream.
He stops talking. His mouth stays open. He looks shocked because I never yell. I always act like a perfect future Luna. I always keep my fur smooth and my voice soft.
I start to pace around the big room of the Blackmoor Grove manor. My mind is spinning fast. If we say he left me, I look weak. If we say I left him, the pack will think I am a bad person who does not care about the covenant. There is no good way to fix this mess.
“Do you care what the low wolves think?” Rham asks.
“Of course I care!” I yell. “Perception is everything in the Moonshadow Dominion! You are ruining my life!”
A big tear falls down my face. I wipe it fast because I hate that he sees me cry.
“A ceremony is not a real marriage,” Rham says, putting his hands in his pockets. “We would be sad together, Lamia. It is better this way.”
He is wrong. We would be powerful. I did everything right. I went to the best training grounds. I learned the pack laws perfectly. I never looked away from the prize of the Silverclaw Throne. If I wanted to just be happy, I would have let his dangerous brother Clay sleep with me years ago. Clay is the true wildcard of the family—a playboy prince who breaks every rule and walks with a lethal, dark aura that makes everyone look away in fear. But getting close to Clay Jasperfang only brings trouble.
“You are a coward, Rham,” I say. “Go find my parents and get out of my sight.”
I pull the heavy silver band off my finger. It has a huge, perfect moonstone on it. I throw it hard at his chest.
“Take your family heirloom,” I spit. “Give it to your precious Christine.”
I run up the stairs to my old bedroom. I close the wooden door very quietly. I do not want my mother, Eleanor or my father, Marcus, to hear me.
As soon as the door locks, I drop to the floor. I fall onto the soft fur rug by my bed. My body feels so tight, I think I will pop. My ears are ringing. Rham is downstairs right now telling my parents that I am not good enough for him.
I grab the thick blanket from my bed and stuff it into my mouth. I bite down hard. I want to howl and scream like a wild rogue, but I cannot let anyone hear me. The cloth tastes like dust.
You do not even love him, the voice in my head says. You are a proud Blackmoor wolf. Stand up.
But I cannot stand up. My legs are like water. The pain in my chest feels real, like a silver blade sticking into my heart. Every breath hurts my lungs. I followed every single rule of the pack. I made myself the perfect wolf for him. I am smart, I am pretty, and I run the Lunar Craft Hall perfectly.
And he threw me away like trash. He changed the rules without telling me. He chose a girl who does not even know how to lead a pack. It is not fair. It is not fair.
I feel like a little twelve-year-old pup who got lost in the dark woods.
I bite the blanket harder. I can only breathe through my nose. My inside parts feel like they are breaking from the sadness.
Everyone in the Silvercrest territory will whisper about me. They will make jokes about the golden girl who got dumped before the Blood Moon Celebration. And there is so much work to undo. The big moon ceremony is written on a huge scroll that Celia Moonblossom and I made. It has hundreds of names and jobs on it. It feels like a giant tangled ball of vines that I can never fix.
I feel like I am drowning under a huge wave in the Moonwave Shore. I cannot find any air. I know I need to stop crying. I need to find my scroll and start fixing the plans.
But I do not move. I just stay in a small pile on the floor, biting the cloth hard. The words keep running around in my brain over and over again.
I am broken.
I am not enough.
He saw right through me.
Now the whole world will see that I am nothing.
“Thirty-three,” Beckett Hollis says, his rough alpha tone vibrating straight against my chest. “Two pups. Sons, thirteen and twelve.”“You certainly kept busy back then,” I mutter, staring up at the carved timber beams of the Mercer Pack House.“Tell me about it,” he chuckles, his wolf’s warmth radiating through the sheets. “Want some lunch?”“Already ate during my shift at the Redstone Country Club,” I say, turning my head to look at him properly.Beckett winks, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips. “Didn’t think I’d wrap up my pack patrols so fast. I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time before the evening patrol.”We share a quiet, guilty smile in the dimly lit bedroom.“Does she live with you in the Hollis Pack territory?” I ask, shifting my weight against the mattress. “Your daughter?”Beckett nods, his b
"Your top," I breathed out, my gaze glued to his broad chest as he yanked the fabric over his head. "Sweet goddess, I am losing my mind."He caught my fingers, guiding them straight to his mouth, sucking gently on my fingertips while his sharp intake of breath echoed off the walls. When I grazed his hardened nipple with my teeth, a guttural groan tore from his throat, driving me to press my hips desperately against his groin. I slid my palm down, wrapping my hand over his heavy erection through the thin material of his trousers."Are you certain about this, Fallon?" he panted, his cobalt eyes burning with a raw, primal need.Without answering with words, I guided his hand down between my thighs, pressing his knuckles against the soaked fabric of my shorts. He brought his fingers straight to his nose, closing his eyes as he inhaled my scent. The deep dimples in his cheeks reappeared, telling me my arousal was intoxicating to him.In seconds, he had me flat
"You are early," I said, pulling the heavy oak door open before his knuckles could strike the wood a second time.The pack technician blinked, staring down at his metal clipboard as if trying to reconcile my face with a service ticket. I stood in the entryway of the Mercer Pack House, having spent the entire morning staring out at the courtyard pool while my mind tore itself apart. My introspection evaporated the moment a stranger with broad shoulders and storm-blue eyes stepped onto my porch. He wore the standard khaki uniform of the pack maintenance crew, but the way his muscular thighs strained against the fabric made my wolf stir beneath my skin with an urgent, demanding hunger."Fallon Mercer?" he asked, his voice low and rich with a gravelly edge that sent a shiver straight down my spine.I nodded, clutching my wedding band so hard my knuckles turned white. "Just Fallon."A slow, crooked grin broke across his face, revealing deep dimples that completely disarmed my frayed nerves
“You’re squeezing my hand so tight you’re going to break the bone, darlin’,” Bramwell rumbles softly, his deep, gravelly voice brushing against the shell of my ear.I don’t loosen my grip on his fingers. I stand on the edge of the grand stone balcony of the Fenmore Pack Estate, my dark hair blowing in the warm summer breeze. Six months have passed since the blood moon bathed the Obsidian Spire in crimson, six months since Bramwell drove his broad silver blade through Edmund Veysey’s heart and shattered the rogue network forever.Below us, in the sunlit central courtyard, the territory is alive with celebration. Long banquet tables are loaded with fresh-roasted meats, bread from Hettie’s kitchen, and casks of aged highland ale. Children run through the green grass, their laughter echoing off the timber walls—reclaimed she-wolves and free pack members living without the shadow of silver chains or dark magic.“I’m just checking to make sure you’re real,” I whisper, leaning back against h
“We will tear Manchester apart stone by stone until your sister is breathing pack air again, darlin’,” Bramwell rumbles, his heavy arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me flush against his side as the armored truck rolls through the wrought-iron gates of the Fenmore Pack Estate.I stare out the tinted window at the dense pine forest passing by in the dark twilight. Autumn leaves blanket the stone driveway, glowing faintly under the perimeter lights. I clutch the glass vial of Moon-Light Essence and the blood-signed parchment tight against my ribs, praying to the Moon Goddess that Elowen is still holding on inside the Obsidian Spire.“Let’s raise a glass of silver-aged whiskey to the newlyweds,” Alistair Fenmore says, killing the engine as we park in the main courtyard beneath the shadow of the grand lodge.Bramwell and I live in the central lodge alongside Alistair, while the pack enforcers occupy the surrounding stone barracks. Since taking Bramwell’s mark, I have stepped fully into
“Just wondering if you’ll ever get tired of having a broken healer at your side,” I whisper, my voice rough against his neck as the hot water cascades over us.Bramwell cups my face in his broad, scarred palms, his golden eyes burning with fierce, absolute conviction. “I am never going to be done with you, Eira. You are my Luna, and I am your Alpha. We will burn Moonridge Chapel to the ground, tear your sister from those rogue cells, and then you are taking my pack mark.”“Taking your mark?” I squeak, my pulse fluttering wildly in my throat.“We need to secure your territory papers and clear your bloodline record first, but yes.”“You aren’t exactly asking for my permission, Alpha.”“Asking would imply I am willing to accept a refusal, little wolf.”I stare up at the unyielding determination carved into his massive, lethal jaw. “You are completely out o







