Chapter Three
The she-wolf had to be mad.
That was all I could think as I stood frozen at the healer’s hall, where pack members came to treat wounds and birth their young. The firelight flickered off polished stone floors, casting shadows across the high-vaulted ceiling carved with runes. She looked out of place—too regal, too still—dressed in twilight-gray furs, her silver eyes sharp with recognition.
“You're one of the Lindwynn bloodline,” she whispered, as if she'd stumbled upon a prophecy long buried.
My spine stiffened. “You’re mistaken.”
But she didn’t even flinch. Her hands moved with shocking speed, plucking a single silver strand from my shoulder as if it were a relic. I gasped, more at the boldness than the pain.
“I’ll take it to the seer,” she said with eerie calm. “Don’t disappear, child. The moon has chosen you.”
Before I could demand what in the goddess’s name she meant, she vanished into the misty courtyard like a ghost.
I didn’t chase her. I didn’t care.Not now.
I had my own chains to shatter.
The Pack Lawkeeper’s den was colder than the mountain wind. Scrolls lined the stone shelves behind his desk, old tomes crackling with enchantments, bound by blood and oath. I placed my request on the table, the parchment trembling only slightly in my grip.
“I want a severance,” I said.
The Lawkeeper blinked behind his reading lenses. “On what grounds?”
I could have named a dozen. But I didn’t come for war or retribution.
“On the grounds that I choose myself.”
He inclined his head, stamping the scroll with a drop of his own blood. “It will be processed by moonfall.”
As I stepped into the crisp night, the wind didn’t bite like before. For the first time in a long while, it tasted clean. Free.
I wasn’t prepared to find her waiting.
Suzanne.Perched on the high-backed chair in my den like a crowned Luna, one leg draped over the other, her scarlet velvet cloak spilling over the stone floor like blood. Her ruby-red lips curled into a smirk I wanted to claw off her face.
“Well, well,” she purred. “The mute wolfless She-Wolf returns.”
Ronan stood beside her, arms folded, his face unreadable. He raised his hands in signs as smooth as ever. “Ciliawanted to surprise you. She’ll be staying at the Alpha’s Hold for a while.”
I swallowed the growl rising in my throat, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
They still thought I was voiceless. Powerless. Easy.
Suzanne’s eyes glittered like sharp-cut garnets. “You’ll come to my Moonrise Gala, won’t you? It’s the event of the season.”
Ronan translated with mechanical obedience. “It would mean a great deal to her.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
She clapped once, delighted. “Perfect.”
That night, I packed.Quietly. Carefully. I had a secret passage mapped to the edge of the Moonveil Forest and a riderless mare waiting three nights from now. Enough time for them to enjoy their little bonding trip to the Elder Glade, and for me to vanish from their lives before the lie unraveled.
But then—came the sounds.I wasn’t even trying to listen. But the stone walls of the Hold were old and thin. And their moans—raw, carnal, unmistakable—bled through like poison.
I froze, hands gripping the edge of my trunk, the moonlight flickering across the blades in my ceremonial dagger chest. No tears came this time. Just silence.
I rose, picked up my scrying orb, and walked to the corridor. Their chamber door was ajar, wide enough to paint a full picture.
Ronan . Wrapped around her. Suzanne. Gasping.Their limbs entwined. Their lies too loud to ignore.
“I’ll give you everything,” he murmured, kissing her throat.
“I love you,” she replied, laughing softly.
I whispered a spell under my breath—one I hadn’t used in moons. The orb pulsed once, then stored the scene.Click. Bind. Save.Done.I returned to my packing.
The night of the Moonrise Gala arrived with the bitterness of poisoned honey.
Skipping it would raise suspicion. And I wasn’t about to let them sniff out my departure before I was halfway to the Highland passes.
The gathering was grand—golden lanterns swaying from ancient trees, tables laden with glimmerroot wine and fire-kissed meats. The pack nobles mingled beneath enchanted starlight. Laughter rang like bells from every corner of the sacred grove.
I walked through them like a shadow.
“She’s radiant tonight,” someone whispered.
“Did you see the moonstone collar Ronan gave her? Custom made by the artisans of Duskholt.”
My fingers brushed my own throat—the matching collar Ronan had slipped on me just yesterday, whispering promises I now knew were hollow.
Without hesitation, I unclasped it and dropped it into the sacred fire pit as I passed. It hissed, then vanished into ash.
And then—there she was.Suzanne. Draped in crimson silk, her hair pinned with opals, her body pressed against Ronan ’s like they were already mated.
She floated toward me on cruel grace.Her perfume hit first—jasmine and venom.
“Since you’re so useless,” she hissed, voice low enough only I could hear, “why don’t you do the pack a favor and die?”
Then—her hands struck.A hard shove to my chest.
My feet slipped on the polished stone of the moonpool’s edge. The crowd gasped—but too slow. I fell, the cold catching me like a vice.
Water closed around me.It was freezing—like biting silver. My limbs thrashed, but my gown weighed me down like iron chains. The surface blurred above, shapes dancing like ghosts through the ripples.
And then—his face.Ronan .Looking down, his golden eyes calm. Distant.Ciliastood beside him, not a hair out of place.
He shrugged. “She always was too fragile.”
They turned away.The last of my breath escaped in a trail of silver bubbles.
And then—only darkness.
