Chapter 2

Within seconds, two burly pack enforcers entered the chamber. Without a word, they dragged me out, ignoring the fresh blood staining my white gown, and threw me out through the back gates of the pack compound.

"By order of the Alpha, every luxury, every title, and every piece of clothing bought with Bloodmoon funds is forfeit. If you want to crawl back to your quarters..."

I wiped the dirt from my face, standing unsteadily on the gravel path. "Keep it. I want nothing marked by the Blackwood crest."

They took my coat, my shoes, and my comm-device. Because in a werewolf pack, everything belongs to the Alpha.

I began the long, agonizing trek down the mountain road in the freezing rain. Blood dripped down my legs, steaming slightly against the cold asphalt. Several pack members passed by in their trucks. A few kind-hearted omegas slowed down, pity in their eyes, but the trailing enforcers merely growled from their scout vehicle:

"The Alpha decrees banishment for anyone who aids her."

The trucks sped off, leaving me in the mud.

The lead enforcer rolled down his window, watching my shivering form. "The Alpha is merciful. He said if you return to the packhouse, apologize to Miss Elena on your knees, and agree to nurse her pup alongside your duties, he will let you ride in the back of the truck."

I didn't answer. I just kept walking, step by agonizing step, until the sun dipped below the horizon and the howling of the pack echoed in the distance.

By midnight, I reached the boundary of the old, abandoned pack house—the property that belonged to my birth family before Alieus expanded his land and merged their lands in alliance. I was the one who had convinced my parents of it, saying he would treat them like his own parents in the future.

The lights inside were off, the old wards flickering weakly.

I reached the iron gate and pressed my palm against the blood-lock.

Error. Access Denied.

I tried again, pressing harder until my skin bruised against the cold iron. The lock buzzed red.

The old pack beta, who had long shifted his loyalty to Alieus to save his own skin, walked out of the guard shack, looking at me with a mixture of contempt and pity.

"Give it up, Luna. The Alpha signed the annexation papers yesterday. This land belongs to the Blackwood main treasury now. No apology to Lady Elena, no entry."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Just swallow your pride. Your birth pack is gone. Your wolf is crippled. You’re past your prime, and you can no longer breed. The Alpha is keeping you as a secondary mate out of sheer charity. What exactly are you fighting for?"

"I don't want the land," I said, my voice eerily calm, cutting through his lecture. "I just want one thing.”

“Everything here belongs to Alpha Alieus. Just apologize to Lady Lyra and take whatever you want.” He replied like a loyal lackey to his new Alpha.

I clenched my fists as I said, “I only want the vault box the Lycan King sent me personally. The personal effects."

The moment he heard the Lycan King’s name, his expression softened immediately. A lackey like him would dare not offend a big name.

He then scoffed, disappearing into the guard shack. He returned a moment later, tossing a water-logged, rusted metal tin into the mud at my feet.

"Here. The Alpha's scouts already cleared it for dark magic or weapons. It’s just old paperwork. Now get off pack lands before I have to use force."

I knelt in the dirt, my frozen fingers trembling as I pried open the rusted lid. I didn't care about the gold or the old deeds. I pulled out the single, laminated parchment hidden beneath the false bottom.

It was an ancient, unbroken blood-lineage decree from the Lycan High King. It was because my father had served his court for years that the Lycan King felt the need to tell me a secret about a Blackwood crest pack no one ever knew.

It read. [The Blackwood Alpha lineage is genetically sterile.]

The scroll in my hands felt heavier than any mountain.

When the high shaman had slipped it to me back then, my world had shattered. I hadn't known how to tell Alieus the truth.

How could a man defined by toxic, lethal Alpha dominance ever survive the humiliation of knowing his bloodline was a dead end?

If our rival packs—the Ironclaw and Shadowtooth factions—ever discovered that the great Supreme Alpha Alieus Black was biologically incapable of siring an heir, they would have torn our borders down by nightfall.

But back then, the shaman had offered a desperate glimmer of hope. Only a female born of the pure Seer bloodline possessed a spiritual womb powerful enough to override his sterility and ground his spark. The only condition was to fast for a whole month to show her devotion towards the Moon Goddess.

"Lady Lyra, Alpha Alieus is a god among wolves, but without you, his legacy ends," the shaman had whispered. "In all my centuries, I have never seen a bloodline as spiritually fertile as yours. You are his only anchor."

I had chosen to bury that secret in the darkest corners of my soul. I starved for a whole month, losing my natural beauty, all to protect his lineage. I never imagined the day would come when I would use his own dark secret to slit his throat.

Using the last of my hidden personal resources, I channeled a minor tethering spell to replicate the ancient scroll a dozen times, binding the copies to messenger falcons. Each one was addressed to the Alphas of our deadliest rival territories.

"Fly fast," I whispered into the wind, releasing the birds into the storm. "Deliver these as a final tribute from the exiled Luna. I am certain they will reward you handsomely for the downfall of the Vance empire."

Julian, this is my final parting gift to you.

I hope it burns your throne to ashes.