Liora’s POV

The same wolves who had been all smiles earlier, helping my father carry barrels of mead into the hall, turned on him in an instant at Kaelen’s command. Their eyes glowed amber, hackles raised, ready to lunge.

“You lay a claw on me, and you’ll regret it,” my father warned, his voice sharp, carrying the weight of an Elder’s authority.

One of the guards scoffed, baring his teeth. “And why wouldn’t we? You’re no Alpha. Who do you think you are to challenge him?”

But they hesitated. There was still fire burning in my father’s gaze—the kind that reminded every wolf in the room why the Oldfang bloodline had ruled for centuries.

Then Seraphine, drunk on her new role as victor, sauntered forward and—smack!—struck my father across the face.

The hall went silent.

He froze, not from the sting, but from the humiliation. This was a wolf who had once been High Councillor of the North, who had brokered peace between rival packs, who had funded the building of orphan dens and veterans’ halls. And here he stood, struck by the she–wolf who stole his legacy.

His fists clenched, fury trembling through him. He was about to unleash it, but I grabbed his arm, pulling him back before bloodshed tore the hall apart.

“This is too much,” someone whispered from the crowd. “They dared lay claws on Elder Oldfang?”

“How could they disrespect him? That male rebuilt homes after the Great Fire, fed starving pups in winter. And now… this?”

“Liora gave her life to Kaelen. Doesn’t she know a she–wolf doesn’t get her moons back once they’re gone? A male can sire pups into his grey years, but a female…”

“If my daughter had done this,” another muttered, “I’d have disowned her.”

“This pair—Kaelen and Seraphine—they’re vile. And now they rule the Blackthorn fortune?”

Growls filled the air, but Kaelen stood unfazed. He raised a hand for silence.

“Are we done yet?” His voice cut through the noise.

The hall quieted, tension humming like a bowstring.

He turned to me, lips curling. “So, Luna? Are you signing, or not? Hurry. The moon doesn’t wait for indecision.”

“Fine,” I hissed.

I picked up the quill. The contract was laughably simple, a few scrawled lines that left me with nothing but a pittance—barely enough coin to survive a single moon cycle outside the pack. A clean exile.

With quick, steady strokes, I signed my name.

Kaelen snatched the parchment, scanning it before letting out a mocking laugh. “Good. Great. Liora, you’re our greatest benefactor. You’ve given me an empire. My bloodline will thrive for generations because of you.”

Seraphine raised her goblet high, her golden eyes gleaming. “Truly, Liora, you’re like my fairy goddess. Perhaps I’ll toast to your generosity every full moon.”

I smiled. Calm. Cold.

Good. Let’s see how long that smile lasts.

Then it happened.

My father, who had been watching the scene unfold, coughed violently, his body trembling. His hand pressed against his chest—and then he collapsed, blood spilling from his lips onto the stone floor.

“Father!” I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him.

“James!” my mother cried, clutching his shoulders, her own wolf aura flaring in panic.

Wolves surged forward, some trying to steady him, others attempting to channel healing energy. Panic rippled through the hall like wildfire.

I looked at his pale, stricken face. His heart had always been fragile. It nearly gave out years ago when I agreed to Kaelen’s ritual. Now this betrayal… it was breaking him completely.

Kaelen stood, watching the chaos, barely blinking. Then his eyes flicked to the man who rushed forward to help—tall, broad–shouldered, his aura sharp as a blade.

“Theon Stormfang?” Kaelen sneered. “What in the moon’s name are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve got your eyes on Liora now. She’s not exactly… desirable anymore.”

Theon and Kaelen had grown up together, both orphans from small villages. But where Kaelen had clawed his way up by deception, Theon had risen with honor. Kaelen used to mock him—called him weak, called him nobody.

Theon only offered a cool, polite smile, not even sparing Kaelen a glance. His attention stayed fixed on my father, his hands steady as he helped ease him upright.

My father groaned weakly as he was carried into a side chamber to rest.

Then a voice called, “Where are the pups?”

“The twins? I think they went to fetch their acceptance scrolls from the Elders’ table.”

Just then, the grand doors creaked open, and in walked two young wolves in ceremonial garb—Chara and Cael, the twins I had raised.

Their bright, familiar faces lit the hall. But when their eyes found mine, their smiles soured. They turned their backs and rushed into Kaelen’s arms.

“Father!” Chara beamed, hugging him tight. “Mother Seraphine! We did it! The Elders accepted us both!”

Kaelen grinned, pride swelling in his voice. “I knew you would, pups. I’m proud of you.”

After hugging them, he leaned down, speaking softly. “From now on… don’t call her Aunt Seraphine anymore. Call her ‘Mother.’”

Their eyes lit up, their joy pure and sharp. In unison, they turned and cried out:

“Mother!”

“Mother!”

The sound broke me.

I was the one who nursed them through fevers, who trained them to hunt under the moon, who shielded them from bullies and taught them honor. I was the one who kissed scraped knees, who calmed their first violent shifts.

And now… another wore the title I had bled for.

My mother couldn’t stand it. She stepped forward, her voice cracking.

“Chara! Cael! Your mother is right here!” She pointed at me, her eyes blazing with disbelief. “She gave eighteen years of her life to raise you! And now you call the she–wolf who shattered our family ‘Mother’? Where is your loyalty?”

The entire hall waited for their answer.

“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.