The fragrance struck first—sugary, unfaltering.
I locked into place in the heart of the open bazaar, talons itching beneath my skin while my wolf twisted restlessly. Several warriors from the Obsidian Fang Pack drifted nearby, yet their proximity wasn’t what sent my pulse into a wild drumbeat. It was the broadside nailed to an old pine noticeboard.
“Will AtwoodE AND Minnie NIGHTSHADE SPOTTED AT THE SOLSTICE AUCTION—ANCIENT EMBERS REKINDLED?”
The caption slammed into me like a mace. My hands quivered as I yanked the sheet down. The photograph showed Will and Minnie standing indecently close beneath glittering crystal candelabras, their smiles gentle, conspiratorial. His palm rested at the curve of her elbow; his gaze, warm and devoted, was locked on hers—an expression I hadn’t witnessed in ages.
He’d sworn he was traveling to finalize a treaty with the neighboring pack.
I clamped my jaw until the metallic savor of blood filled my mouth, wrestling the frantic surge of transformation rippling under my skin. All around, the marketplace hummed—traders bartered fresh game, pouches of mountain herbs, and charms humming with minor enchantment—yet, to me, everything fell into a crushing stillness.
Turning away, I folded the notice, imprinting the treacherous image deep into memory.
Running was impossible, not while new life moved within me.
Instinctively my palms flattened over my abdomen, feeling the faintest throb of energy. A pup—his pup. Fury and despair warred inside me, but I drew in a steady breath and focused on that delicate spark.
Strength. I needed relentless strength.
I hurried toward Elder Liora’s sanctuary, slipping behind thick fur drapes guarding the entry.
“Sharon,” she greeted, silver hair spilling like moonlight, eyes emitting a pale glow. “I hadn’t expected you.”
“I have to be certain…” My voice splintered.
Understanding flickered in her gaze. She led me to a polished slab of granite. Placing warm, luminous hands atop my belly, she spilled magic through me, gentle as a lullaby.
Moments later, her face softened into a smile. “Your babe thrives—robust and spirited.”
Tears escaped, but they tasted of relief rather than grief. “Thank you,” I whispered.
Peace, however, was fleeting.
Leaving the den, I marched for the Obsidian Fang fortress—jagged black towers spearing a slate sky, each step stiff with resolve. In my grip lay a folded parchment: my formal resignation as Luna.
Decision finalized.
Gate sentries eased back, perhaps sensing the torrent simmering beneath the surface. The grand vestibule teemed with pack members, yet I ignored them, striding toward Will’s strategy hall.
A voice halted me. “Sharon,” Beta Roman called.
I spun. His amber eyes brimmed with something akin to regret. “He’s inside. But… he has company.”
The blow of those words landed deeper than expected. “I’m aware,” I answered, brushing past.
The chamber doors parted a sliver. Through it, I saw Will—my bonded mate—standing with Minnie Nightshade, once his promised bride. She pressed against him, hand spread over his chest, laughter shimmering around them.
Then I watched the unthinkable.
He kissed her.
Not forceful or impulsive—a soft, reverent brush, as if he’d waited seasons for permission.
Breath deserted me. Rage crackled, but I didn’t barge inside. I chose something sharper.
From my belt I retrieved the enchanted communicator Roman had gifted months prior, a device able to dispatch images across the pack’s web like lightning. One tap captured their embrace; another sent it to Minnie’s current mate, Alpha Lucien of the Crimson Dawn Pack.
Let chaos devour them.
I stormed into my quarters and ransacked drawers, collecting every token Will had presented—rings dusted in wolfsbane, spell‑woven capes, rare grimoires. I piled them in the hearth and set them alight. Flames surged, wood and metal shrieking as enchantments unraveled.
Before the blaze devoured the last trinket, a frigid gust tore through the balcony doors.
She appeared.
Minnie.
Golden hair lashed her cheeks; argent eyes blazed. She drove a boot into the iron rim, scattering embers that kissed her skin without leaving a mark.
“Oops,” she crooned, syrup‑sweet and venomous. “So clumsy.”
A growl rattled loose; my wolf clawed at bones. “Explain yourself.”
She cocked her head. “Stopped by to check how the soon‑to‑be‑retired Luna passes the time.”
My fists tightened. She drifted closer, her aura thick as choking fog.
“Face reality, Sharon—you’ve never measured up. Couldn’t even shield your own mother when rogues carved through your village. You watched her die.”
A red haze flooded my vision—the shrieks, the blood, my mother’s final prayer. My palm—half‑shifted, nails elongated—cracked across Minnie’s face.
I hadn’t predicted the aftermath.
She staggered, heel catching the hearth’s lip, tumbling directly into the roaring inferno.
Horror jolted me forward, yet no scream arose. She straightened within the flames untouched, skin irradiant, ethereal. When her lids lifted, her irises burned molten gold.
A savage smile unfurled. “You’ll rue this, Sharon.”
Her expression contorted, and she unleashed a piercing call: “Will!”
The name ricocheted through stone corridors, rattling banners.
In that instant I comprehended the path ahead: no peaceful negotiation, no quiet retreat. Only blood, exile, or absolute war. And I had vowed survival for the heartbeat fluttering under my ribs.
I shoved open the balcony doors. Below lay rooftops, alleys, possibilities for escape.
Hand over stomach, I whispered, “Hold on, little one. Your mother won’t break.”
With the fortress erupting behind me, I vaulted into the night, leaving Minnie glowing like a vengeful star amid the flames and Will’s name still echoing in her furious throat.
