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Chapter 16
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2025-05-03 17:30:23Silas doesn’t waste another second. With my hand still cradled in his, he lays out his plan in a hushed voice, careful not to let it carry.
He tells me of his pack—how he’s built it in the shadows, amassing wealth in the human world and using that money to shelter rogues who refuse to kneel to the legacy packs. But being unregistered makes them targets. Criminals. Easy to hunt. To change that, they need legitimacy. Recognition. And for that, he needs someone the council already knows. Someone they respect.
That’s where I come in.
He’ll provide the power and the fortune. All I need to offer is my name—my reputation.
It sounds like madness. But the plan is sound. If everything he says is true, then he’s played this game perfectly. If his pack is already strong enough to survive without backing, then with a public endorsement, the council won’t have a choice. They’ll have to acknowledge them.
Still, there are cracks.
“They’ll think you’re holding me hostage,” I say, wary. “That I’m only saying what I’ve been told to say.”
“Not if we’re married.”
“What?”
I blink at him, stunned. Married? I expected a professional arrangement—like the ones forged in necessity. Partnerships based on mutual goals, not mating bonds.
Among the older packs, they still cling to the tradition of fated mates ruling together. But most modern packs have evolved. A Luna is chosen for her ability to lead, to nurture, to protect—not simply to love. Some Alphas never bond with their Lunas, yet their packs thrive.
So I expected pragmatism.
Not… this.
But Silas is unmoving, steady as stone.
“You know they won’t respect anything less,” he says. “And they’ll know I couldn’t force you into marriage. That if you agreed to it, it means you chose me.”
My mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.
“You could have forced me just as easily into this as you did into being your Luna,” I say, flatly. “A ring doesn’t prove anything.”
He doesn't flinch. “Love makes people reckless. If they believe you love me, they’ll believe you did this of your own volition. And they will never respect a pack whose Alpha and Luna are just colleagues. That’s why lower packs stay low. I intend to make the NightCrows the most powerful force in our world—and for that, I need their approval.” His voice dips. “I need you to be my wife.”
I inhale sharply. “And I’m just supposed to act like I’ve fallen for you?”
He nods once. “Only until the recognition is secured. Then you can do as you please. You’ll be free.”
Free. The word lands like a whisper on raw skin. Marriage was the trap last time. A bond I couldn’t break. A choice I never really made.
But I’m not the girl I was. I can keep my heart guarded. I can survive a marriage if I know it’s just a performance. A contract. Nothing more.
Normally, it would be impossible to sever the twin bonds I already carry. They’d tear me apart from the inside. But if I had another bond to anchor me—if someone else claimed me—it might work. It might be enough to survive it.
I chew my bottom lip. But what happens after? Will I have to sever Silas’s bond too? Will I be strong enough to endure that?
Silas senses my hesitation. His grip on my hand tightens, his thumb brushing gently across my skin.
“When this is over,” he says softly, “you’ll choose. Whether you want to stay or go. I won’t hold you to anything. And if you decide to leave, I’ll make sure you’re cared for—surrounded by the best healers. You’ll be safe. And free.”
The words are a balm. I don’t know if I believe them yet—but I want to. I want the chance to choose. For once, I want to write my own ending.
But a thought claws through the quiet.
“What if you meet your fated mate?”
He doesn’t hesitate. His expression doesn’t change.
“She died.”
The words are cold. Even. But behind them, I see it—grief buried beneath practiced control. A mirror of my own.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
He shakes his head once. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
His thumb resumes its soothing path along the back of my hand. “No fated mate will interfere with this. You’ll be safe.”
Safe.
It sounds like a promise. A hope.
And maybe I shouldn’t believe him.
But I do.
And after everything—after Lucian, after Damian, after Rosalina—I need to believe in something. I need to believe that safety is still possible. That a life of my own is still within reach.
So I take a breath. And I nod.
“Alright. I accept.” My voice doesn’t waver. “I’ll be your Luna.”
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Silas’s smile is devilish—roguish, even. My words sound like a finality I can’t take back, but strangely, there’s no panic. No fear.He steps closer, invading my space, his face dipping to my neck as he whispers in my ear.“You won’t regret this.”I think I’m imagining the relief in his voice. Maybe it’s just a reflection of mine. But then he steps back just as quickly, putting space between us. He releases my hand—and for the first time, I don’t feel the need to take it back. Don’t feel the need to cling to him out of fear he’ll vanish before I can understand what this is.I just told him I’d be his Luna. I can trust he won’t stray far.
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I slip back into the ballroom as discreetly as I can, head high, shoulders set. No one should think to look at me—yet I feel the weight of eyes before I’ve even crossed the threshold.I’d done my best to fix myself up: hair smoothed back into place, makeup reapplied just enough to erase the signs of being freshly kissed. No one would guess I was just tangled in a corner with a rogue. That would be far too scandalous. Far too impossible.As I weave toward a group of sympathetic Lunas, my gaze lands on her.Rosalina.With everything that’s happened, I almost forgot she tried to kill me.She’s standing to Damian’s right, poised and delicate, hanging onto his every word. He’s recounting r
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Damian stares at me, jaw slack, as if the words haven’t fully registered yet. Behind him, Rosalina begins to cry—soft, trembling sobs, timed just perfectly with my outburst. Her shoulders quake delicately.Of course.Lucian slips through the stunned crowd, eyes scanning between us. Without hesitation, he places a hand on Rosalina’s back and gently steers her in, folding her into his chest like some wounded bird.I scoff. Loud enough for him to hear it.My movements are slow. Intentional. I lift my left hand, letting the light catch on the ring now adorning it—sharp, golden, and impossible to miss. A murmur builds around us, the air thick with unease.“I’ve found someone,” I say clearl
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“Please, stop!” I choke, my voice raw, knees sinking into the cold stone. My palms scrape against gravel and shattered glass, the remnants of a night I don’t want to remember.But Rosalina only scoffs in my face, lips curved into a venomous smile. Her long blond hair tumbles forward, a golden curtain veiling her face from the pack gathered behind her, but I know what lies beneath it—a monster draped in silk.She leans down slowly, as if to embrace me, to show them all what a saint she is, their pure Luna, merciful to the end. But her lips brush my ear and the illusion shatters like glass.“This is where you end, Nara. It’s what a girl like you deserves. A stain on the pack’s name.” Her breath is warm, but her words are ice, sinking into my skin. “You should’ve died years ago. But better late than never.”Her laughter is soft, delicate, like bells on a wedding day, but there’s malice dripping from every note. She straightens, pulling back with a holy smile, a glowing aureola of hair ar
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“Nara? Are you okay?”My eyes snap open, breath hitching. Damian.He’s leaning over me, his face etched with concern. His blond hair is tousled in that familiar, boyish way I haven’t seen in three years—not since before he betrayed me. His eyes—soft, warm, kind—lock onto mine, searching for something.My heart pounds. What the hell?We’re in… my room. Not the barren cell where I was left to rot, nor the cold closet I was shoved into for years. This room—brown walls, pink comforter, sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains—the Luna’s room. The one I was banished from the day Rosalina arrived and took everything from me.My lips part, but nothing comes out. How…?“Nara?” Damian’s voice pulls me back again. He reaches out, and I flinch instinctively, expecting the cruel grip, the slap, the snarl. But his hand is gentle—just like before. His fingers graze my cheek, then slide to my forehead, checking for fever, not violence.“You’re not warm…” he murmurs, brow furrowing. “You don’t
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I tear through my room, rummaging for anything worth saving, anything I don’t want Rosalina’s hands on when she finally claims what’s mine. Drawers slam, shelves are emptied, papers scatter. My heart pounds with every second wasted—and I’m running out of time.I need to find a way out. Some escape, any escape.But no matter how hard I try, the memories won’t let me breathe.I know exactly what’s coming—the slow, excruciating descent into hell. I know how Rosalina will smile, will whisper lies, how she’ll turn the pack against me, one by one, until there’s no one left on my side. Until I’m discarded.First, I’ll be moved to my office—a bed hastily thrown on the couch, no longer fit to sleep under the same roof as my mates. Then, when she takes the Luna title, they’ll relegate me to a broom closet, clearing it out “just for now.” But they never will find somewhere better.And when I’ve lost everything—my title, my name, my dignity—she’ll frame me. She’ll weep and scream that I tried to
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Silas doesn’t waste another second. With my hand still cradled in his, he lays out his plan in a hushed voice, careful not to let it carry.He tells me of his pack—how he’s built it in the shadows, amassing wealth in the human world and using that money to shelter rogues who refuse to kneel to the legacy packs. But being unregistered makes them targets. Criminals. Easy to hunt. To change that, they need legitimacy. Recognition. And for that, he needs someone the council already knows. Someone they respect.That’s where I come in.He’ll provide the power and the fortune. All I need to offer is my name—my reputation.It sounds like madness. But the plan is sound. If everything he says is true, then he’s played this game perfectly.
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I gasp. “Excuse me?”His grip on my arms loosens slightly. Reflexively, I tighten mine. He smirks—slow, knowing. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to me, even when I can’t begin to make sense of it myself. There’s something unspoken in the air between us, a pull I’ve never felt with anyone else. It knocks me off balance, leaves my composure hanging by a thread.I steel myself, forcing the walls of ice around my heart to hold. I can’t afford warmth. Not when it comes from hands like his—hands that feel like fire sinking into my skin.I glare. He chuckles, low and rich.“Come now, Luna,” he murmurs, voice dipped in quiet disdain. “Don’t tell me you truly want to stay in a pack so eager to
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“I think you’d better skitter away like the cockroach you are.”The voice is deep and strong, reverbarating all around me. My breath comes out fast as I’m trying to reconcile with the fact that I’ve survived. I’m not dead. I’m safe, held in a tight embrace by whoever caught me.Through the tears, I see Rosalina run away, stepping back into the ballroom, leaving me alone with the stranger.“Are you alright?”His voice is close and comforting, like soft feathers caressing my skin. Or like velvet slipping over me.I quickly wipe away my tears, allowing myself a better look at my savior while he gently places me back on my feet.Black hair, piercing dark eyes, and a
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“Nara,” she breathes softly, her voice carefully modulated with sweetness. “I was wondering where you'd disappeared to.”“Rosalina,” I reply, my voice cool, carefully controlled. My gaze sharpens, openly unwelcoming.She comes closer, pausing just a little way from me, tilting her head innocently. “I couldn’t help but notice you've been quite busy tonight. Dancing, whispering into ears…making friends.” Her eyes, wide and falsely curious, watch me closely. "I hope you've enjoyed yourself."“It's called socializing,” I reply evenly. “I'm sure you're familiar with the concept.”Rosalina’s mouth curves into a gentle, amused smile, her eyes briefly sharpening with something darker. &ldq
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Dorothee throws open the doors before Rosalina can muster a reply.The crowd surges in, a river of silk, velvet, and jewels. Every guest seems determined to outshine the others, draped in fabrics so rich and frivolous they might as well bleed gold. This celebration isn’t just tradition—it’s a parade of strength. A reminder to every ally and rival that the Moonlit Pack lacks nothing.I spot her almost immediately—an aging Luna with two massive Irish Wolfhounds at her heels, sweeping through the hall like a queen, her Alpha a step behind her. His roguish smirk isn’t for the crowd. It’s for her. His gaze rakes her body with unrepentant hunger, as if she’s still the girl he first claimed under a harvest moon.Emily and Kylean Silver Moon.My mother's old leaders.
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After my confrontation with Lucian, the days blur, slipping through my fingers like water. The Eclipse celebration looms ahead, and with it, the unraveling of everything I once called mine.Both of my mates are wrapped around Rosalina like silk—adoring, attentive, perfect. They argue over dresses and stylists, over whether her curls should fall loose or be pinned in a crown. She’s pampered like the heroine of some saccharine fairytale, a beloved Luna in waiting. I try not to see it. I focus on what I can control.The preparations keep me grounded. Speeches to draft, guests to charm, gifts to prepare. Each detail is a shield against the slow bleeding of my heart. I cling to the illusion of influence—because while the pack still sees me as Luna, their respect isn’t deep enough to shelter me. Not when the bond they worship pulls in another direction.
