The pain came suddenly, sharp as a claw, twisting low in Selene’s belly. She hadn’t shifted, she hadn’t even come into heat this cycle—so why did it burn so much, as though silver had touched her skin?
She pushed off the velvet bench in the gallery and staggered toward the door of the restricted corridor. When her fingers curled around the bronze handle, it didn’t move. Locked. From the outside.
Then came the voice she dreaded—cool, honeyed, and barbed—sliding under the door like smoke.
“Poor little Beta bride,” Lyra Moonshadow purred. “How does it feel, living on scraps of someone else’s love?”
Selene’s vision blurred. She braced herself on the doorframe, panting.
“Ronan’s always been mine,” Lyra went on, her voice rising with a cruel little laugh. “From the very first moon. Now that I’ve returned to the Ironfang Pack, you’re just an intruder. And you still had the gall to show up at this ceremony tonight, trying to steal my light?”
Selene gritted her teeth, sweat cooling on her brow. Her voice came out thin but steady.
“If you want him, take him. I’m finished fighting for a mate who won’t fight for me.”
A scoff. “You think I’d believe that?”
“You took my mother’s place in the Alpha’s heart. Now you want my bond too? You’re pathetic. Stay in there. No one’s coming.”
Selene heard something scrape on the other side—Lyra dragging a heavy sign across the threshold. “Restricted Area. Do Not Enter” in bold red letters.
Tonight’s conclave had strict rules: no phones, no photos, no magic recordings. All personal devices had been collected at the door. Even a wolf in trouble would go unheard in this wing.
Selene’s claws half‑slid out before she forced them back, but the cramps were like hot chains across her stomach. Her knees buckled. She slid to the stone floor, leaning against the cold wall. Her hands trembled as she beat at the door.
“Please… somebody…” her voice cracked, echoing against the empty corridor. “Help me…”
But no one came. Any wolf who might have walked by would see the red warning sign and turn away.
Time blurred. The pain deepened until even her enhanced senses dulled. The cold crept in through her thin ceremonial dress. Finally, darkness rose up and pulled her under.
---
On the main floor, the conclave dragged on. When the last sacred artifact was unveiled and the chants faded, Ronan Draven realized Selene had not returned. A faint furrow appeared between his brows.
Beside him, Lyra tilted her head, her eyes wide and innocent. “Alpha Ronan,” she murmured sweetly, “do you think she left because I took her seat at your side? I didn’t mean to upset her…”
“You’re the rightful daughter of the Moonshadow line,” Ronan said flatly. “You think a secretary should sit where you belong?” He exhaled sharply. “Forget it. Selene’s been too proud lately. A night alone might cool her temper.”
Lyra’s lips curled when he turned away, her thoughts a victorious hiss: Selene Valen, you never learn. You couldn’t win my mother’s favor; you won’t win my mate’s either.
That night Selene did not return to the packhouse. Ronan never asked again.
---
The next morning, when a cleaning omega opened the sealed chamber during her rounds, she nearly dropped her bucket.
Curled in the corner, drenched and trembling, lay Selene. Her gown clung to her like wet parchment; her skin had gone pale as moonlight.
“By the goddess—Miss, how did you get locked in here?” the omega cried, rushing to her. “You’re freezing. Should I fetch the healer?”
Selene’s lashes fluttered. She pressed her palms to the floor, forcing her body upright inch by inch. “No… thank you. I’ll manage.”
The cramps had faded to a dull ache, but the cold had seeped into her bones. She’d really thought Ronan might come looking for her.
But clearly, she’d overestimated herself again.
She remembered how, when Lyra once went missing for only ten minutes as a pup, Ronan had nearly summoned the entire patrol in a panic. And now, after an entire night without word, he hadn’t even raised a howl for his bonded mate.
So this is the difference, Selene thought, steadying herself against the wall. The difference between love and indifference.
Step by step she left the chamber, the omega hovering behind her but not daring to question an Alpha’s wife. Outside, she flagged down a pack‑run carriage to the edge of the territory.
At last she was given her confiscated phone back. The screen lit up. Not a single message from Ronan.
Instead, there were several from Kael Ralston.
[Selene, I can’t wait a full moon. One week. I’m coming to get you in one week.]
Selene closed her eyes. For the first time in hours, warmth flickered in her chest—a faint ember against the frost.
