The full moon climbs into the sky the color of fresh blood.
That is the first thing that lodges in my mind as I’m dragged toward the stone dais at the center of the pack grounds—the moon’s hue wrong, swollen, spilling red light across the clearing like an omen no one dares to voice aloud.
The pack is already assembled.
Hundreds of wolves fill the space. Warriors in rigid lines. Elders seated in judgment. Families clustered together. Faces I once guarded, trained, healed. Faces that used to lower their eyes when I passed.
Tonight, they don’t bow.
Tonight, they watch.
A restless murmur ripples through the crowd as Corvin steps forward. His power rolls outward in heavy, crushing waves, no longer restrained. He wears the Alpha mantle openly now, dominance bared and unapologetic, pressing down on every wolf present.
On me most of all.
I stand by myself.
No Luna’s place at his side.
No steadying hand at my back.
Behind Corvin, the Council occupies their semicircle of carved stone seats. Below them stands Maelis, draped in silver, one palm resting conspicuously over her abdomen.
My stomach tightens.
Corvin lifts his hand.
The clearing drops into silence instantly.
“Tonight,” he declares, his voice carrying effortlessly as the Moon altar amplifies every syllable, “we gather to honor the Moon’s decree and safeguard the future of this pack.”
The words are ritual-polished, honed by generations of repetition. I know the cadence well enough to hear the falsehood threaded through it.
“For too long, this pack has awaited an heir,” Corvin continues. “The Moon has tested us—and through those trials, it has revealed a truth we can no longer deny.”
His gaze turns toward me.
It is distant. Calculated. Empty.
“Luna Mireya has failed to bring life to term across four consecutive moons.”
A hush sweeps through the crowd before whispers begin to spread. My hands curl slowly at my sides.
“She has served faithfully,” Corvin adds, his tone magnanimous, “but loyalty cannot outweigh destiny.”
At his signal, Maelis steps forward.
Gasps erupt immediately.
Corvin covers her hand with his own, the intimacy of the gesture unmistakable.
“She,” he says, “has been blessed.”
Maelis lowers her head, humility carefully crafted. “I carry Alpha Corvin’s child,” she says softly. “The Moon answered me.”
Shock ripples through the gathering. For a brief moment, fear is forgotten in the wake of disbelief. My vision tunnels, sound dulling at the edges as Corvin raises his voice once more.
“By ancient law, the bearer of the Alpha’s heir takes precedence,” he proclaims. “Effective this night, Maelis will assume the title of Luna.”
The words strike like a blow.
Luna.
Taken from me in a single breath.
My ears ring as the bond between Corvin and me thrashes in protest—stretching, tearing, frantic with confusion. Corvin remains unmoved.
I step forward before I fully register the motion.
“That isn’t true,” I say.
My voice cuts cleanly through the noise, sharp enough to freeze the clearing.
“Mireya—” Corvin starts.
“I am not barren,” I say, louder now. “And Maelis is not the Moon’s chosen.”
Unease ripples outward, tension coiling tight.
Corvin’s jaw hardens. “Enough.”
“No,” I snap. “You don’t get to erase me in silence.”
My hand presses to my abdomen.
“I’m with child.”
The reaction is immediate and violent.
Maelis stiffens. Corvin whirls toward me, disbelief fracturing his composure. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” I reply. My voice shakes—but it doesn’t break. “The Moon answered me too. Even after everything you did to prevent it.”
Elders rise abruptly from their seats.
“That’s impossible,” Maelis says sharply. “She would have known—”
“I did,” I cut in. “You just never expected it to live.”
The Moon altar hums beneath our feet, a deep resonance that vibrates through bone and stone. Torches blaze brighter as silver light ripples across the clearing.
Wolves stagger. Some collapse to their knees.
The altar is responding to me.
Corvin retreats a step without realizing it. Fear cracks through his mask for the first time.
“She’s influencing the altar!” Maelis cries. “She’s unstable—dangerous!”
“Enough,” Elder Balthen commands, slamming his staff against the stone.
His gaze fixes on me, something like dread flickering there. “The Moon is responding,” he says slowly. “To the child.”
Excitement drains from the air, replaced by unease.
Corvin recovers swiftly, seizing control. “Exactly. This proves my concern. Her pregnancy is volatile. The power is uncontrolled.”
He turns to the pack. “Do you want another aberration? Another threat to our lands? Another Moon calamity?”
The murmurs darken. Awe curdles into suspicion.
I stare at him, stunned.
“You’re afraid,” I whisper. “Not of me. Of what my child is.”
Corvin doesn’t deny it.
“Mireya,” he says coldly, “you are no longer fit to stand as Luna.”
Balthen exhales heavily. “By Council decree, Luna Mireya is stripped of her title.”
The words hollow me out.
“And the child?” someone asks.
Corvin answers without pause. “The child bears Vortain blood. It belongs to this pack.”
My heart slams violently.
“No,” I say. “You don’t get him.”
Corvin’s expression hardens. “You have no choice.”
I laugh—a thin, fractured sound. “Yes,” I murmur. “I do.”
Before anyone can stop me, I rake my claw across my palm and slam my blood against the Moon altar.
Light detonates across the clearing.
Agony rips through me as the bond snaps—not cleanly, but brutally. I scream as the connection to Corvin tears away like flesh from bone.
Corvin roars.
The altar pulses once, then again—then falls silent.
I sway but remain standing.
Balthen stares at me in horror. “You’ve severed the mate bond.”
“I claimed my child,” I rasp. “By Moon Law.”
Corvin advances, fury blazing. “You’ll pay for this with your life.”
“Perhaps,” I say quietly. “But not tonight.”
The Elders whisper urgently before Balthen raises his staff again.
“Mireya,” he declares, voice heavy, “you are hereby exiled from pack lands until the child is born. Should you return before that time—”
“I’ll be executed,” I finish.
Corvin’s smile is thin and sharp.
Guards seize me, dragging me toward the forest’s edge. Maelis watches, her hand still resting on her stomach, triumph glittering in her eyes.
“You won’t survive out there,” she calls sweetly. “Not by yourself.”
I meet her gaze. “You’re mistaken.”
Because beyond the ancient boundary stones, another scent reaches me—dark, cold, predatory, and far too familiar from Corvin’s warnings.
Night Ridge.
The guards shove me across the border. I stumble, collapse onto чуж ground as darkness creeps into my vision.
As the world fades, one truth burns through the pain.
Corvin didn’t exile me.
He delivered me.
And somewhere beyond the shadows, another Alpha is already watching.
