Liora’s POV
The same wolves who had been all smiles earlier, helping my father carry barrels of mead into the hall, turned on him in an instant at Kaelen’s command. Their eyes glowed amber, hackles raised, ready to lunge.
“You lay a claw on me, and you’ll regret it,” my father warned, his voice sharp, carrying the weight of an Elder’s authority.
One of the guards scoffed, baring his teeth. “And why wouldn’t we? You’re no Alpha. Who do you think you are to challenge him?”
But they hesitated. There was still fire burning in my father’s gaze—the kind that reminded every wolf in the room why the Oldfang bloodline had ruled for centuries.
Then Seraphine, drunk on her new role as victor, sauntered forward and—smack!—struck my father across the face.
The hall went silent.
He froze, not from the sting, but from the humiliation. This was a wolf who had once been High Councillor of the North, who had brokered peace between rival packs, who had funded the building of orphan dens and veterans’ halls. And here he stood, struck by the she–wolf who stole his legacy.
His fists clenched, fury trembling through him. He was about to unleash it, but I grabbed his arm, pulling him back before bloodshed tore the hall apart.
“This is too much,” someone whispered from the crowd. “They dared lay claws on Elder Oldfang?”
“How could they disrespect him? That male rebuilt homes after the Great Fire, fed starving pups in winter. And now… this?”
“Liora gave her life to Kaelen. Doesn’t she know a she–wolf doesn’t get her moons back once they’re gone? A male can sire pups into his grey years, but a female…”
“If my daughter had done this,” another muttered, “I’d have disowned her.”
“This pair—Kaelen and Seraphine—they’re vile. And now they rule the Blackthorn fortune?”
Growls filled the air, but Kaelen stood unfazed. He raised a hand for silence.
“Are we done yet?” His voice cut through the noise.
The hall quieted, tension humming like a bowstring.
He turned to me, lips curling. “So, Luna? Are you signing, or not? Hurry. The moon doesn’t wait for indecision.”
“Fine,” I hissed.
I picked up the quill. The contract was laughably simple, a few scrawled lines that left me with nothing but a pittance—barely enough coin to survive a single moon cycle outside the pack. A clean exile.
With quick, steady strokes, I signed my name.
Kaelen snatched the parchment, scanning it before letting out a mocking laugh. “Good. Great. Liora, you’re our greatest benefactor. You’ve given me an empire. My bloodline will thrive for generations because of you.”
Seraphine raised her goblet high, her golden eyes gleaming. “Truly, Liora, you’re like my fairy goddess. Perhaps I’ll toast to your generosity every full moon.”
I smiled. Calm. Cold.
Good. Let’s see how long that smile lasts.
Then it happened.
My father, who had been watching the scene unfold, coughed violently, his body trembling. His hand pressed against his chest—and then he collapsed, blood spilling from his lips onto the stone floor.
“Father!” I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him.
“James!” my mother cried, clutching his shoulders, her own wolf aura flaring in panic.
Wolves surged forward, some trying to steady him, others attempting to channel healing energy. Panic rippled through the hall like wildfire.
I looked at his pale, stricken face. His heart had always been fragile. It nearly gave out years ago when I agreed to Kaelen’s ritual. Now this betrayal… it was breaking him completely.
Kaelen stood, watching the chaos, barely blinking. Then his eyes flicked to the man who rushed forward to help—tall, broad–shouldered, his aura sharp as a blade.
“Theon Stormfang?” Kaelen sneered. “What in the moon’s name are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve got your eyes on Liora now. She’s not exactly… desirable anymore.”
Theon and Kaelen had grown up together, both orphans from small villages. But where Kaelen had clawed his way up by deception, Theon had risen with honor. Kaelen used to mock him—called him weak, called him nobody.
Theon only offered a cool, polite smile, not even sparing Kaelen a glance. His attention stayed fixed on my father, his hands steady as he helped ease him upright.
My father groaned weakly as he was carried into a side chamber to rest.
Then a voice called, “Where are the pups?”
“The twins? I think they went to fetch their acceptance scrolls from the Elders’ table.”
Just then, the grand doors creaked open, and in walked two young wolves in ceremonial garb—Chara and Cael, the twins I had raised.
Their bright, familiar faces lit the hall. But when their eyes found mine, their smiles soured. They turned their backs and rushed into Kaelen’s arms.
“Father!” Chara beamed, hugging him tight. “Mother Seraphine! We did it! The Elders accepted us both!”
Kaelen grinned, pride swelling in his voice. “I knew you would, pups. I’m proud of you.”
After hugging them, he leaned down, speaking softly. “From now on… don’t call her Aunt Seraphine anymore. Call her ‘Mother.’”
Their eyes lit up, their joy pure and sharp. In unison, they turned and cried out:
“Mother!”
“Mother!”
The sound broke me.
I was the one who nursed them through fevers, who trained them to hunt under the moon, who shielded them from bullies and taught them honor. I was the one who kissed scraped knees, who calmed their first violent shifts.
And now… another wore the title I had bled for.
My mother couldn’t stand it. She stepped forward, her voice cracking.
“Chara! Cael! Your mother is right here!” She pointed at me, her eyes blazing with disbelief. “She gave eighteen years of her life to raise you! And now you call the she–wolf who shattered our family ‘Mother’? Where is your loyalty?”
The entire hall waited for their answer.
