Three years ago, I had a fight with my father and fled the Silvercrest Den in a fit of anger, determined to chase my dream of a quiet life far from the pack.
I shook off every one of his scouts along the way, masking my scent with crushed moonroot and bitter sage until not even the sharpest tracker could follow. I settled at the foot of this mountain, deep in the borderlands where rank and bloodline meant nothing.
That was when I met Caelan Blackthorn. He was on horseback, his cloak whipping in the wind, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. One look was all it took. I fell for him completely.
I hid my identity from him, and he told me only that he was a lone wolf roaming the territories. We exchanged vows beneath the open sky, with the Moon Goddess and the wild earth as our witnesses.
We had no ceremonial furs or pack feasts, but we had each other. He hunted the forests while I kept our den, and we were happy.
Now the den was destroyed, and I was locked away in a side chamber of the Blackthorn estate.
The only glimpse of the outside world I could steal was through a crack in the wall.
A few women passing by were whispering about the Blackthorn mating ceremony.
"Did you hear? The young Alpha heir petitioned the Supreme Alpha himself for the mating rites. He traded his military honors for the Silvercrest Moonstone Circlet, the one reserved for Alpha-blooded brides!"
"Well, his intended mate is the Grand Advisor's legitimate daughter. She deserves that kind of ceremony."
"They're perfectly matched in rank. What a striking pair they'll make."
The Moonstone Circlet they spoke of had been my favorite treasure in the Silvercrest Den. I'd never worn it only because I hadn't yet come of age for a mating ceremony, so my father never bestowed it on me.
On my own mating night with Caelan, the only thing on my head had been a wreath of wildflowers he'd woven with his own hands.
He'd said to me then: "My Seraphina deserves the finest things in this world. Even a pack princess's circlet wouldn't be too good for you."
And now he had traded his military honors to give that very circlet to Sable Ashveil.
That evening, Caelan came carrying a whole box of my favorite pastries.
He sat across from me, his expression perfectly composed. "Eat something. The pup must be hungry."
Only then did I pick up a piece and take small, careful bites.
But watching him act as though nothing had happened filled my mouth with bitterness no pastry could mask.
"When did it happen?"
Caelan froze. He poured me a cup of tea to cover his discomfort, then said in a flat voice, "On your Moon Blessing Day."
The ground dropped out from under me. A moon cycle ago, on my Moon Blessing Day, Caelan had vanished without a word. I searched for him the entire night, up the mountain and down, calling his name until my voice gave out. My wolf had paced inside me, restless and whining, sensing something wrong long before I let myself believe it.
He didn't come back until the next morning, dusty and disheveled, claiming he'd gotten lost looking for a gift for me.
Then, like a boy presenting a treasure, he pulled a snow lotus from behind his back.
I hadn't slept all night, but seeing the effort he'd gone through, I couldn't bring myself to scold him. I took the flower and carefully potted it.
Now he was telling me that on my Moon Blessing Day, while I was searching every trail in the dark, he had been in Sable Ashveil's bed. My stomach turned. Something deep in my chest curdled, and my wolf went still in a way that frightened me more than her pacing ever had.
Even so, thinking of everything we'd shared, I couldn't stop myself from offering him one last chance.
"Caelan, can you just not mate with her?"
He turned the teacup in his hands, over and over, his brow furrowed tight.
"Not mate with her? Mate with you instead?"
"Do you really have to force me to say it plainly?"
"She is the Grand Advisor's legitimate daughter. And you? A borderland wolf who knows nothing but foraging herbs and keeping a den. How could you possibly be fit to stand beside me as the recognized mate of a Pack Alpha Heir?"
The color drained from my face. I refused to let it go. "Do three years of what we had really mean nothing unless I have the right bloodline?"
A searing pain tore through my lower abdomen. I pressed both hands against my stomach, but I kept my eyes on him, waiting for his answer.
"In noble packs, bloodline and rank matter above all else. The line between a recognized mate and a kept wolf is absolute."
He paused, guilt flickering across his face.
"Sable might be carrying a pup."
The room tilted. I stared at him, unable to process what I'd just heard.
"Seraphina, her pup has to be recognized as the firstborn heir. That's the only way you'll be safe."
The pain in my belly twisted like a knife. Cold sweat beaded across my forehead. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at the box of pastries. A faint wrongness clung to them, something my wolf had nudged at when Caelan first set them down. I hadn't listened.
"Caelan, this is your pup too. How could you bear to..."
Caelan's eyes reddened. He apologized again and again.
"I'm sorry, Seraphina. She knows you exist. By the timing, your pup is further along than hers. She won't allow you to give birth to the firstborn..."
