I didn’t sleep the night Maren visited. I lay awake, staring at the cracked ceiling, her words replaying over and over. A circle. Women like me. Wolves who had been silenced, bent, reshaped into shadows of who they once were. I tried to imagine them—these broken women who didn’t stay broken—but it was easier to picture myself as the exception. Maybe I wasn’t as brave as I thought.
But then I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes were sharper than I remembered. My posture is taller. My voice, even in silence, didn’t shake anymore.
I was already becoming someone else.
I didn’t have a map. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know what I wanted. But I knew I couldn’t go back.
When the sun set, I found myself walking toward the outskirts of town. The sky was bruised purple, stars blinking into view as if uncertain they were welcome.
Maren had said, “If you come, you come.”
And so I did.
The forest was quiet. I followed the path past the river, past the arch of fallen trees, until I saw it—torchlight glowing in a small clearing. Shadows moved around the flames, figures seated in a wide circle, all facing inward.
They didn’t speak when I approached.
They didn’t stare, either. They just made room.
I took my place among them, folding my legs beneath me. The fire crackled in the center, warm against the cold air. The silence wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t awkward. It was…so sacred.
Then one of them spoke.
“My name is Aira. I was the third mate of Alpha who only wanted heirs. When I stopped producing sons, he traded me like cattle. I thought I’d die from shame. But I’m still breathing.”
Another voice followed.
“My name is Nyra. I was Luna of the Silverbone Pack. Until I walked in on my mate with my best friend. They told the pack I went mad. They locked me up in the healer’s ward until I learned to stop screaming.”
One by one, they told their stories.
Wolves discarded. Lunas betrayed.
Women who bled behind closed doors, then smiled at the pack like nothing was wrong.
I sat there, my heartbeat deafening, waiting for the moment someone would turn to me. And finally, they did.
I opened my mouth. For a second, nothing came out.
Then I said, “My name is Selene.”
The name didn’t feel like a whisper anymore.
“I was Luna of Crescent Ash. My mate—Callan—took everything from me. My title. My son. My place in the world. He replaced me with my sister, and I let it happen for too long. I don’t know what I’m doing now. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be without him.
The words stuck in my throat.
“I don’t want to be angry anymore. But I am. I’m angry that I was loyal. I’m angry that I kept trying. I’m angry that my son watched it happen and didn’t stop it. I’m angry that I lost everything while he got to keep smiling.”
The fire snapped, like it heard me.
No one told me I was wrong for feeling that way.
No one told me to calm down. No one offered pity.
They just nodded. Accepted me.
For the first time in decades, I felt seen.
After the stories, they stood. One by one, each woman walked toward the fire and threw something in. A token of the life they’d left behind. A wedding ring. A pack medallion. A blood-stained cloth. A torn mating mark sash.
Maren came last. She turned to me and held out her hand.
“It’s your turn.”
I reached into my satchel and pulled out the broken crescent pendant. The one Callan gave me when Elias was born. The one I clung to like proved I belonged.
Afterward, Maren approached me while the others shared food and laughter that sounded more like survival than celebration.
“There’s more for you, Selene,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“Your bond. It’s breaking. But not completely.”
I nodded slowly. “I felt it. It’s… weaker.”
“It won’t sever on its own,” she said. “Not with Callan still holding your mark. Not if he wants to keep the bond alive. You need to confront him. Reclaim your wolf fully. Otherwise, a piece of you will always be tethered.”
I swallowed. “He’d never let me go. He’d rather drag me back in chains.”
Maren’s gaze sharpened. “Then make sure you don’t go alone.”
I blinked. “You’d come with me?”
“We all would.”
I looked around. These women weren’t packless. They were a new kind of pack. One forged from fire, not politics. Loyalty built from scars.
I felt something in my chest shift.
Hope.
For the first time since I left, I felt like I had a path. Not just to escape—but to reclaim what was mine.
We began planning that night. Not revenge. Not bloodshed.
Just truth. And freedom.
I returned to my room after midnight. My muscles ached, but my heart was full. I collapsed onto the bed, sleep pulling me under quickly.
I dreamt of Crescent Ash again.
But this time, I wasn’t watching them leave me behind.
I was walking back. With fire at my heels and sisters at my side.
When I woke the next morning, I opened my eyes to find a letter slid beneath the door.
I picked it up, recognizing the handwriting instantly.
Callan. I unfolded it slowly.
“Selene, Elias has returned early. He’s asking questions. You’ve made a mistake.
"Come back. Or I will come for you.”
My fingers tightened around the paper.
So it begins.
