“Cael,” my mother’s voice trembled, heavy with memories, “you were born weak. The healers thought you wouldn’t survive your first moon. Your fevers raged so high the pack was already mourning. One night, when your temperature soared past what your tiny body could bear, I carried you through a storm, barefoot and bleeding, to the healer’s den. I begged the spirits not to take you.”
She turned toward Chara, her eyes glistening. “And you, when you were thirteen, you started sneaking out to run with rogues. That night, they slipped wolfsbane into your drink. If I hadn’t stormed in with half the warriors, you would’ve died in the dirt, body convulsing, lungs burning. I fought them myself, tore through their knives and claws. Ten wounds I took that night… ten wounds, and I still dragged you home alive.”
Her voice broke. “And when you came of age, when the shift terrified you, when your bones snapped and your screams rattled the walls… who held you? Who guided you through the pain so you wouldn’t feel alone?”
The hall fell silent. No one moved. The truth lingered in the air, sharp and undeniable.
I had raised them as my own. I had bled for them, wept for them, guided them through every shadow.
But then Chara rolled her eyes. “And? You think I care? Whatever you did doesn’t matter—you’re not my real mother.”
Cael’s lips curled into a cruel sneer. “Exactly. Look at her. A broken wolf like that could never deserve to be our mother.”
Then he dropped a leather-bound folder onto the long oak table. The scent of ink and parchment spread into the room. My heart pounded as the warriors and elders leaned forward.
It was a blood oath test.
The proof of parentage.
Gasps swept the hall like a storm. The whispers cut sharp and fast.
“They’re Seraphina’s spawn.”
“I knew it. Kaelen always denied wanting pups, then he returns with twins out of nowhere? Please.”
“Poor Liora. She raised another wolf’s litter. Gave them her bloodline, her protection, her wealth… and they spit on her for the very woman who shattered her bond.”
All eyes turned to me—mocking, pitying, waiting for me to snap. To howl. To rip apart the hall in rage.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I reached into my cloak and laid down a folder of my own. Its edges glinted in the candlelight.
“If that’s how it is,” I said quietly, “then let’s sever the bond.”
Gasps again, louder this time. No one expected it.
“You’re… giving them up?” one of the elders murmured.
Chara laughed, sharp and triumphant. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”
They signed the parchment with eager hands, their claws etching into the paper as if they were cutting into me. Then, without hesitation, they strutted to Kaelen’s side—Seraphina beside him, her lips curving with victory. The four of them smiled as if the Moon Goddess herself had crowned them.
At last, they could play their little happy pack without shame. Without hiding.
“Perfect,” I said, my lips curling in a smile that wasn’t quite human.
I had given them a chance. If they had shown even an ounce of decency, I would’ve forgiven them. But wolves blinded by pride are no different from mortals staring into the sun—sooner or later, they burn.
The whispers swirled. How could I—Liora, Luna of the Crescent Moon, builder of an empire of strength—be reduced to raising another woman’s children, only to be cast aside like a fool?
“Liora, this gathering no longer concerns you,” Kaelen said coldly, his voice echoing through the hall. “Leave. And tell your parents to clear their quarters. The Alpha mansion now belongs to my bloodline.”
“Not so fast.” I let my smile widen, sharp as a blade. “This is still my pups’ night of honor. The celebration hasn’t even begun. Why would I leave now?”
I turned toward the double doors.
“Children,” I called. “Come in.”
Every head in the hall twisted toward the entrance.
And then the doors swung open.
Two young wolves walked in, still dressed in their academy uniforms, their scents filling the air—my blood, my true heirs.
The hall went utterly still.
