My first pack called me moon-cursed because silver lightning split the sky whenever my wolf surfaced.

At twenty-two, I crawled out of an Ironfang wolfsbane pit with a black iron chain around my throat.

Kael Draven cut that chain, challenged three Alphas for me, and made me Silvercrest’s High Warden.

For twelve years, I wore his mate mark and crushed every enemy who crossed our border.

I buried three Moon Ascensions so the Draven curse would never touch Kael or our son.

When Orion was born, I drove nine moon-silver nails into my own chest to keep him alive.

Then I woke on a blackstone altar with seven silver chains around my wrists and blood cooling beneath my spine.

I searched for my wolf and found an empty wound where my Moonvein had been.

“You have two Moonveins, Lyra,” Kael said. “Selene has none.”

“A real mother would share,” Orion whispered.

“She’s strong enough to survive,” Selene said.

“Cut deeper,” Kael ordered.

***

The silver High Warden badge struck the thick liquid with a splash and sank to the bottom of the blood basin.

A sharp, hollow agony tore through my abdomen, ripping a scream from my dry throat. My spine arched against the freezing black stone of the altar. Metal rattled in the dark. I yanked my right arm. Silver bit into my wrist. I kicked my legs. More metal scraped against my ankles.

One, two, three… seven silver chains pinned me to the stone. They bound my wrists, my ankles, my waist, and my neck.

"Keep still, Lyra."

Kael stood three feet away, wiping a curved bone-handled blade on a white cloth. The cloth stained crimson in seconds. My blood.

I forced my chin down, straining against the neck restraint to look at my own stomach. A gaping, circular wound sat just below my ribs. Black blood oozed over the edges, pooling on the altar. He had cut me open.

"Why?" I choked out, my right fingers twitching. The chains offered just enough slack for my hand to brush the edge of the mutilated flesh.

"You have two Moonveins," Kael replied. His voice held the same calm, authoritative tone he used during Silvercrest Pack council meetings. "Losing one won't kill you."

The metallic tang of the room mixed with a scent that betrayed my reality. Pine and winter frost. Kael’s scent. My wolf whined in the back of my mind, instinctively soothed by the presence of her mate. The betrayal of my own instincts nauseated me. He stood right there, just beyond the reach of my silver restraints, approving the butchery.

"You tied me down for it?" I yanked my right arm again, ignoring the way the metal scraped my skin raw. "Twelve years ago, Kael, you waded into the Ironfang wolfsbane pit. You shattered the black iron collar on my neck with your bare hands. You slaughtered three Alphas who refused to accept a rogue into their ranks, just so you could bring me here as your High Warden. You swore I would never wear chains again."

Kael tossed the bloody cloth onto the floor. "You survived the pit because you possess an endurance no other wolf has. That endurance is exactly why you are the only one who can survive this extraction. The pack needs a pure Moonvein to secure our borders. You are simply doing your duty."

"My duty?" I let out a harsh, ragged laugh that sent fresh spikes of pain through my gut.

A small movement caught my eye. A shadow shifting behind Kael’s leg.

Orion.

My eight-year-old son stood half-hidden behind his father. The cavern reeked of his fear, sour and sharp. When I locked eyes with him, Orion flinched. He snapped his head away, staring hard at the blood basin.

"Orion," I rasped. "Did you know your father was planning this?"

The boy shuffled his feet. He gripped Kael’s trousers, his knuckles turning white. He refused to look at the gaping hole in my body.

"Tell me, Orion!" I demanded, my voice echoing off the damp cavern walls.

Orion swallowed hard. "You're strong, Mom," he muttered, his voice a tiny, fragile squeak. "You always survive everything. A real mother should share what she has."

The cavern spun. The freezing temperature of the stone altar seeped into my bones, chilling me from the inside out.

A real mother should share.

I stared at the boy. The child I had bled for.

"Share?" I whispered, my voice trembling with a rage so deep it numbed the physical pain. "Eight years ago, I drove nine moon-silver spikes into my own breastbone. I nailed the Draven curse inside my chest so you could survive your first blood moon. I suppressed three Moon Ascensions for the two of you, taking the fire into my own veins so your souls wouldn't burn to ash. Is that what my love is to you? A resource? A mine you can just keep digging into until there is nothing left?"

Orion shrank back, finally lifting his eyes to meet mine. "But you didn't die," he whispered. "You never die."

"So that makes it acceptable to carve me up?" I asked, my vision blurring.

"Enough, Lyra." Kael stepped forward, his jaw tight. "Do not guilt the boy. He understands the necessities of leadership better than you do right now. Your vein will be transplanted into the pack's new guardian. It is already done."

"Who is it for?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Who gets my power, Kael?"

Kael stiffened. He avoided my gaze, looking instead at the blood basin. "That is pack business. You do not need to concern yourself with it right now."

"You carved a piece of my soul out of my body, and you tell me it is pack business?" I yanked my left leg, the silver biting through my pants and tearing the skin. "Tell me!"

"It is for the new guardian," Kael snapped, his patience fraying. "The council agreed. Your power was being wasted on suppression spells. We need a warrior who can wield the Moonvein offensively."

"A warrior," I repeated. "You gave my power to another."

"I secured the future of Silvercrest," he corrected.

I pressed my fingers deeper into the hollow of my stomach. Beneath the sluggish flow of black blood, something stirred. A faint, rhythmic pulsing pushed against my fingertips.

I parted the edges of the wound slightly. A wisp of golden light flared deep within the cavity, cutting through the dark crimson. My second Moonvein. It thrummed with ancient energy, fighting to keep my organs functioning, fighting to keep me alive.

Kael noticed the glow. His eyes narrowed, a flash of greed crossing his features before he masked it with cold indifference. "See? You have plenty of life force left. You will heal. In a few months, you will return to your duties as Luna."

He spoke as if he had just borrowed a cup of sugar, not ripped a magical artery from my core.

"Return to my duties," I repeated, letting the words roll around my mouth. They tasted like ash.

"We will leave you to rest," Kael said, turning his back on me. He placed a hand on Orion’s shoulder, steering the boy toward the iron doors of the cavern. "The silver chains will release automatically once the altar senses your wound has clotted. Do not try to force them."

My wolf howled inside my head. A mournful, agonizing sound. She wept for the mate who was walking away, leaving her bleeding on a sacrificial block. The scent of pine and frost began to fade, replaced by the stench of my own dark blood.

I looked at the ceiling, tracing the jagged cracks in the stone. They had taken my loyalty, my power, and my maternal sacrifice, twisting them all into weapons against me. They thought my resilience was an invitation for endless abuse.

I dragged my bloody right hand up my torso. I left a wet crimson trail over my ribs, over the faded scars of the moon-silver spikes, all the way to my shoulder.

"Kael," I called out.

He paused near the door, glancing over his shoulder. "Rest, Lyra. We will talk when you are rational."

I didn't argue. I didn't scream. I simply pressed my blood-soaked palm flat against my left collarbone. Right over the crescent-moon mate mark Kael had bitten into my skin the night he claimed me.

I smiled at him. I felt the skin around my mouth stretch, tight and manic.

The golden light inside my stomach flared, illuminating the dark corners of the cavern. The energy rushed upward, surging through my veins, bypassing my heart, and channeling into my right hand.

Under my palm, the mate mark began to sizzle.

Kael’s eyes widened. He spun around, leaving Orion by the door. "Lyra! What are you doing?"

Smoke curled from beneath my fingers. The sharp, unmistakable stench of burning flesh filled the air, overpowering the pine, the frost, and the blood. The bond inside my mind snapped tightly, shrieking in protest as I forced the golden energy to scorch the connection at its root.

"Since one Moonvein is enough for me to live," I said, my voice cutting through the cavern like a blade. "Then take my title of Luna along with it."

My nails dug deeper into my collarbone, piercing the blistering skin. The golden energy from my remaining Moonvein surged upward, funneling into my fingertips.

"Lyra, stop!" Kael lunged toward the altar.

I dragged my claws down, tearing through the crescent-moon scar. The scent of winter frost and pine—his scent, the anchor of my soul for twelve years—ignited. Smoke plumed from my flesh. It smelled like a forest fire, suffocating and thick.

"You are insane!" Kael roared, his hands hovering inches from my shoulder. He refused to touch me. He was afraid of the golden fire.

"Insane?" I laughed, the sound wet and jagged. "I am just cleaning house."

The tether inside my mind snapped. The constant, comforting hum of his presence vanished, leaving a hollow, echoing void. For the first time since he claimed me, the psychic link went dead.

Kael stumbled back. His chest heaved. He stared at his own hands, then up at my face.

"I feel nothing," he whispered, his eyes wide. "Your pain... it is gone."

"I kept it all for myself," I told him.

He reached out again, his fingers brushing the space above my collarbone. A flake of charred, blackened skin drifted from my shoulder and landed in his palm. He stared at the dead ash, his expression twisting into absolute shock.

"You destroyed the mark," Kael said, his voice hollow.

"You destroyed the marriage," I corrected. "I just finalized the paperwork."

Light footsteps echoed against the damp cavern floor. Not Kael's tread.

"Kael, the extraction is destabilizing. We need to go."

A woman stepped into the dim light near the blood basin. Selene.

She wore a pristine white dress, untouched by the slaughterhouse mess around her. Hanging from her neck was a silver guest token. The exact token I had signed eighteen months ago.

"You let her in," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous register.

Selene touched the silver token resting against her collarbone.

"You were so generous, Lyra." Selene's lips curved into a thin, satisfied smile. "When I showed up crying about my broken Moonvein, you asked zero questions. You just handed me a guest pass and opened the gates. You even gave me a room in the upper keep."

"I pitied a crippled rogue," I replied, keeping my eyes locked on hers. "I should have let the winter rot your bones."

"Pity is a weakness for a Luna," Kael interjected. "Selene possesses the tactical mind Silvercrest requires. She understands sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?" I spat, pointing a bloody finger at the half-moon black scar on my left shoulder, right next to the ruined mate mark. "Six years ago at Frost Gorge. Seventeen wolfsbane arrows, Kael. I took seventeen arrows in the back to cover your retreat. I bled black mud for a month while you secured your Alpha title. Did she do that?"

Kael’s jaw tightened. "That was the past. You survived. This is about the future of the pack."

"And my son carries the loot," I noted, shifting my gaze to the shadows.

Orion stepped forward slightly. He hugged a silver box tighter against his chest. The faint, silvery-blue light of my extracted Moonvein illuminated his small face.

"Aunt Selene needs it, Mom," Orion said, his voice steadier now. "She promised to teach me how to cast the moon-shield. You never have time to teach me. You are always too busy healing the border guards."

"I heal them so they can keep you safe, Orion," I said, my chest tightening.

"Aunt Selene says a real leader does not act like a medic," the boy shot back. "A real leader takes power."

I stared at the child I had birthed. The child I had bled to protect.

"Then take it," I whispered. "Take it and run."

I pushed myself up. The silver chains clattered against the stone. Kael had said they would release once the wound clotted. The golden light from my remaining vein had already sealed the worst of the butchery. The metal locks clicked, and the cuffs fell away from my wrists and ankles, slamming against the altar.

Kael took another step back, positioning himself between me and Selene. "Do not try anything, Lyra. You are weak."

"Weak?" I swung my legs over the edge of the altar. My bare feet hit the freezing stone.

"Stay down!" Kael commanded, using his Alpha tone.

The command washed over me and dissolved into nothing. Without the mate bond, his authority was just noise.

I stood upright. The gaping hole in my stomach stretched. Beneath the smeared black blood, a bright golden line fractured across my skin. It spider-webbed outward, tracing glowing veins up my ribs and down to my hips.

Selene gasped, taking a step behind the blood basin. "Kael, look at her skin. What is that?"

"A side effect of the extraction," Kael said, though his voice wavered. He drew his bone-handled blade again. "Lyra, I will not warn you twice. Stand down."

I ignored his weapon. I walked past him, dragging my bloody fingers along the edge of the silver basin. The thick crimson liquid rippled.

"Take the box, Orion," Kael ordered, his eyes locked on me. "Go to the upper keep."

The boy scurried toward the iron doors, Selene close behind him.

"Enjoy the stolen goods, Selene," I called after her. "Let us see if it rots inside you."

The iron doors slammed shut, echoing through the cavern.

I stood alone by the basin. The golden cracks on my abdomen pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. The heat radiating from my core was immense, burning away the lingering chill of the stone altar.

I leaned over the thick, dark liquid. My reflection stared back. Pale face, hollow eyes, a chest smeared with gore and ash.

Then, the reflection shifted.

The liquid rippled outward. The image of my face dissolved. Deep within the mirrored surface of the blood, an enormous golden eye snapped open.

"Leave this slaughterhouse, little wolf."

The ancient voice vibrated through the damp stone floor.

I gripped the edge of the silver basin. The thick crimson liquid rippled. Deep within the mirrored surface of my own extracted blood, the golden eye blinked.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my throat raw.

"Leave." The command hit my skull like a physical blow.

My inner wolf threw herself against my ribs. Bone cracked. Pain flared, sharp and blinding. Without Kael's pine scent to anchor the change, my beast remained trapped inside, thrashing blindly. She wanted to shift. She needed to tear through the cavern and rip the throats out of the wolves who had betrayed us. But the physical transformation refused to trigger.

I coughed, spitting a wad of dark blood onto the stone.

I snatched my silver High Warden badge from the floor. The metal felt freezing against my palm. I turned my back on the golden eye and walked out into the biting night wind.

The wooden doors of the Moon Temple stood wide open.

Inside, a woman swept gray dust from the obsidian floor. She wore robes of deep indigo.

"You bleed on my clean floor," she noted, leaning on her broom.

"Iona," I read the name stitched on her collar. "I need sanctuary."

"Silvercrest Lunas do not need sanctuary," Iona replied, her gaze dropping to my stomach.

"I am no longer Luna." I tossed the silver badge onto the altar steps. It clattered against the stone. "I severed the bond. I have nowhere else to go."

I pulled back the torn remnants of my shirt.

Three years ago, I sat at the Moonwell for seventy-two hours, bleeding my Moonvein dry to hold the barrier against a shadow-stalker siege. Three hundred and twelve Silvercrest members survived because of me. Three hundred and twelve tiny silver dots had tattooed themselves across my ribs in gratitude.

Now, only smooth, unblemished skin remained. The broken Luna bond had wiped away every trace of my sacrifice.

Iona stepped closer. She ignored the discarded badge. She stared at the glowing golden cracks webbing across my abdomen.

"You saved three hundred and twelve lives," Iona said, her voice flat. "Where are they tonight?"

"Sleeping safely in their beds," I replied. "Following their Alpha's orders."

"Loyalty is a fragile currency." Iona pointed to the stone bench. "Sit."

I collapsed onto the hard surface. My wolf rammed my ribs again. I grabbed my chest, gasping for air.

"My beast is trapped," I rasped. "The mate bond is gone. I cannot shift."

"You severed a twelve-year bond. Your wolf is in mourning." Iona turned to a wooden cabinet. "She will tear you apart from the inside if she does not find a new anchor."

"I do not want a new anchor. I want to survive."

"Survival requires understanding the weapon inside you." Iona pulled out three oval glass panes framed in tarnished bronze. Moon mirrors.

"Hold still," she instructed, arranging the mirrors in a semi-circle around my torso. "Let us see what your Alpha actually left inside you."

"He took my Moonvein. He gave it to Selene."

"Did he?" Iona adjusted the left mirror.

The glass flared with a blinding white light. Instead of reflecting my ruined shirt, the mirror showed the inside of my abdominal cavity.

I stared at the reflection. A thick, glowing golden root pulsed in the center of the wound. It was not bleeding out. It was moving.

"What is that?" I asked, my voice tight.

"Your second vein," Iona murmured, tilting the right mirror. "But it is not just sitting there."

The second mirror magnified the image. The golden tendrils were wrapping around the lingering pockets of black, necrotic blood left by Kael's bone-blade. The gold light hissed, dissolving the dark fluid and absorbing it into the root.

"It is eating the dead blood," Iona said.

"That is impossible," I countered. "A Moonvein only channels energy. It does not consume."

"Clearly, you do not know your own bloodline." Iona adjusted the third mirror, angling it over the core of the golden light.

"What do you know of my bloodline?" I challenged, gripping the edge of the bench.

"I clean the temple floors. I listen to the prayers of hypocrites. I see many things." Iona tapped the bronze frame. "This vein is hungry."

A high-pitched whine split the air. The bronze frame of the first mirror fractured.

A jagged line split the glass.

The second mirror shattered, showering the stone floor with glittering shards. The golden light from my stomach flared, rejecting the scrying magic.

Iona threw a hand over her eyes and kicked the third mirror away before it could explode.

"Your power is volatile," Iona stated, brushing glass dust from her indigo sleeves.

"Can you stabilize it?" I asked. The heat radiating from my core felt like a furnace.

"I am a temple keeper, not a god." Iona walked back to the wooden cabinet. She rummaged through the lower shelves.

My inner wolf clawed at my chest cavity again. The sheer force of her panic threatened to snap my sternum. I doubled over.

"Make it stop," I gritted out.

"I cannot soothe your wolf," Iona said, turning back around. She held a brass hourglass filled with shimmering black sand.

She walked over and slammed the hourglass onto the stone bench beside me.

"What is this?" I stared at the falling sand.

"A timer," Iona replied.

"For what?"

Iona flipped the brass hourglass over, resetting the black sand. "If you do not let the gold vein complete its first cycle within seventy-two hours, your heart will burn first."