My husband chose the Blood Moon Ball to throw me away, in front of every Alpha on the continent.

"I, Alpha Kane of Blackstone, reject you as my mate and Luna."

His first love stood behind him in the gown that was sewn for me.

My thirteen-year-old son held the new Luna's crown, because he'd volunteered to carry it.

"Mom, have some dignity," he whispered. "Don't make us a continental joke."

For twenty years no rejected wolf had dared accept, because acceptance throws every ounce of the bond-tearing agony back onto the one who broke the oath.

I smoothed the dress they mocked.

I met the eyes of the whole hall.

I said it slow, one word at a time: I accept your rejection.

Kane crashed to the marble, fingers gouging stone, his wolf screaming inside his ribs.

My neck went light as his mark melted away.

And under that fading mark, something old and silver began to glow.

From the throne came a growl that had been swallowed for seven years.

The Lycan King walked past a hall of kneeling wolves and dropped to one knee before me.

"Seven years," he said, "I waited for that rotten mark to die."

Then he turned to the room and told them to bow to their Queen.

***

"Behold the goddess's grace," Sasha announced, raising her glowing palms toward the vaulted ceiling of the Blood Moon Ball hall. "True healing requires strength. It requires a wolf capable of channeling the earth's power, not a broken vessel."

Cheers erupted from the Blackstone pack members.

I stood by the banquet tables, smoothing the frayed velvet of my five-year-old dress. The fabric felt thin beneath my fingers. Around me, visiting Alphas and their Betas openly pointed at my worn hem.

"Did you see her arrive?" a visiting Alpha asked loudly, making no effort to hide his disdain. "Walking in on foot. The Wolfless Luna."

"Barely a Luna," his Beta replied, laughing. "Look at Sasha up there. That is a real mate. Wren is just a charity case Kane keeps around out of pity."

"I heard she hasn't shifted in a decade," another woman chimed in, swirling her wine glass. "What kind of Alpha keeps a human-scented weakling by his side? It makes Blackstone look weak."

I drove my fingernails into my palms. The sharp sting kept my face completely blank. Sasha lowered her hands and smiled at the crowd. She was mimicking the exact healing technique I had taught her three years ago, using it to claim my legacy.

"You should sit down, Wren," an older pack member muttered, bumping my shoulder as he walked past. "You're ruining the view."

"I am fine standing," I said, keeping my eyes on the stage.

Heavy footsteps approached from my right.

Dorian, my thirteen-year-old son, marched down the aisle. He wore a crisp ceremonial suit. He carried a velvet cushion. Resting on top of it was the crystal Luna crown.

My chest tightened. I stepped into his path. "Dorian."

He stopped. His jaw clamped shut. He refused to look at me.

"What are you doing with that crown?" I asked, keeping my tone even. "That belongs in the vault."

Dorian shifted his grip on the velvet cushion. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Mom, show some dignity. Don't make Blackstone the laughingstock of the continent."

The words slammed into my ribs.

"I am your mother," I said. "And I am still the Luna of this pack."

"You are an embarrassment," Dorian shot back, finally glaring at me. "Sasha is strong. She can actually shift. You just sit around looking pathetic."

"I raised you," I whispered, the betrayal burning my throat. "I taught you what it means to lead."

"You taught me how to hide," Dorian sneered. "Kane says a real leader stands in the light. Now move."

He stepped around me and continued toward the stage.

Fourteen years ago, I lay bleeding on the border dirt. I drained my own veins to heal two hundred dying warriors. That sacrifice broke my wolf, leaving me permanently grounded. Last winter, I spent weeks sewing Dorian a winter cloak for his training. Kane snatched it from my hands and tossed it straight into the roaring fireplace.

"A Luna should look like a Luna," Kane had sneered, watching my hard work turn to ash. "Not a pathetic seamstress."

Now, Kane stood at the center of the dais.

He wore his ceremonial black jacket. He puffed out his chest as Dorian handed him the crystal crown. Kane patted our son's shoulder, completely ignoring my presence in the aisle.

Sasha stepped up right behind him.

My stomach dropped.

She wore a gown of spun gold silk. The bodice was heavily embroidered with silver thread, catching every flicker of the chandelier light. The pack seamstress had measured me for that exact dress three weeks ago.

"Do you like it?" Sasha asked. Her voice carried perfectly over the sudden hush of the hall. She stroked the silk over her hip, locking eyes with me. "Kane said gold suits my complexion better. He said it was a total waste to put such fine fabric on someone who hides in the shadows."

"It fits perfectly," Sasha taunted, turning slightly to show off the intricate silver embroidery trailing down the back. "Don't you think? The seamstress had to take it in, of course. You always wore your clothes so loose to hide your frail figure."

"The seamstress tailored that for me," I said, stepping forward. "We picked that fabric together to celebrate the pack's founding."

"And I paid for it," Kane interrupted. His voice boomed off the stone walls. "I decide who wears the gold in this pack."

"You gave her my dress," I stated, the reality of his cruelty settling over me.

"I gave her what she deserves," Kane replied. "Something you stopped deserving a long time ago."

Kane raised his hand.

The hall plunged into absolute silence. The torches lining the walls flickered and dimmed as his Alpha aura pressed heavily onto the room.

"Wren," Kane commanded. "Step forward."

I forced my feet to move. I stopped ten paces from the dais.

"You have failed Blackstone," Kane announced to the crowd. "You cannot shift. You cannot lead the hunts. You offer nothing to our future."

"I gave my wolf for this pack," I replied, staring directly at him. "I saved your warriors when no one else could. Your father honored my sacrifice before he died."

"My father was sentimental," Kane snapped. "He let a cripple run his pack. We need a future. Sasha is that future."

"She is a fraud," I said, my voice ringing clear. "She uses parlor tricks to mimic the healing blood I gave to your men."

"Silence!" Kane roared. "You will not insult my chosen mate."

He reached out and took Sasha's hand, pulling her to his side.

"I am your fated mate," I reminded him, my voice steady.

"Not anymore," Kane said.

He squared his stance. The crowd held its collective breath.

"I, Kane, Alpha of Blackstone," he projected, his words echoing through the silent hall, "reject you as my fated mate and Luna."

A searing burn ignited on the left side of my neck.

My hand flew to the mating mark. The skin blistered beneath my fingertips. The severed bond tore at my veins, demanding I fall to my knees and beg for mercy.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

No one rejected a fated mate openly.

For twenty years, pack law had been absolute. If the rejected party accepted the severing, the agonizing pain of the torn bond would rebound entirely onto the oath-breaker. It was a death sentence for the Alpha. Kane expected me to weep. He expected me to cling to his legs and refuse the rejection, absorbing the agony myself to spare his life.

Dorian watched me from the steps. He crossed his arms, waiting for me to yield.

Kane stared down at me, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

"Beg, Wren," Sasha whispered, leaning over the edge of the dais. "Refuse the rejection and he might let you stay in the servant's quarters."

I lowered my hand from my burning neck.

The pain sharpened, threatening to rip my chest open. I ignored it.

I shifted my gaze past Kane, past the glowing Sasha, and looked toward the silent, empty throne reserved for the High King at the back of the dais.

I squared my shoulders.

I looked Kane dead in the eye.

I slowly opened my mouth.

"I, accept..."

"...your rejection."

The words dropped into the dead silence of the hall like a stone into a glass well.

Kane's smug smirk vanished. His jaw unhinged.

The rebound hit him like a freight train.

He dropped. His knees slammed into the floor, shattering a white marble tile. A sickening crack echoed off the vaulted ceiling.

"Kane!" Sasha shrieked.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. He dug his fingers into the jagged cracks of the broken stone, tearing his own nails. A horrific, gurgling howl tore from his throat. It wasn't human. It was the sound of a dying wolf trapped inside a collapsing chest.

Visiting Alphas shoved their chairs back, scrambling away from the dais.

"He broke a fated oath," a visiting Alpha yelled over the noise. "The goddess is tearing his wolf apart!"

Sasha threw herself onto the dais steps. The heavy gold silk of her stolen gown dragged over Kane's violently twitching hands. She grabbed his shoulders, trying to haul him upright.

"Do something!" Sasha yelled at the crowd, her fake composure entirely gone. "He's your Alpha! Help him!"

No one moved. Pack law dictated that interfering with a divine rebound invited the same curse.

I stood perfectly still. The blistering heat on my neck cooled into a dull throb. The mating mark was melting off my skin.

"Use your healing," I told Sasha, keeping my voice flat. "You claimed my legacy. Fix him."

Sasha froze. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for an excuse.

"I need preparation," she stammered, backing away from Kane's thrashing form. "The earth's power requires focus."

"You need my blood," I stated, stepping closer to the dais. "Because three years ago, you stole vials of my drawn blood from the infirmary. You used them to fake your aura. You don't have any power. You just have my leftovers."

"Shut up!" Sasha screamed, her hands trembling on Kane's back. "Guards, remove her!"

The Blackstone guards exchanged nervous glances, but their boots remained planted.

Kane wheezed, spitting blood onto the shattered marble. He lifted his head. "Wren... take it back."

"Take what back?" I asked, looking down at the man I had loved for two decades.

"Refuse the rejection," Kane choked out. He clawed at the hem of my old velvet dress. "Take the pain. You always take the pain for me."

"Not today," I said.

"I command you," he rasped, trying to project his Alpha aura. It came out as a pathetic sputter. "I am your Alpha."

"You rejected me," I reminded him. "You hold no authority over my body."

I kicked his hand away. "You chose the gold, Kane. Wear it."

He collapsed again, convulsing against the steps.

I turned my head. Dorian stood completely frozen near the center aisle. The crystal Luna crown rattled violently against the velvet cushion in his grip.

"Dorian," I called out.

My son flinched. He stared at his father bleeding on the floor, then looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"Is she telling the truth?" Dorian asked, his voice cracking. "Sasha doesn't have the power?"

"I tore my own body apart to bring you into this world," I said, bridging the distance between us. "I burned the last of my healing power to keep your lungs breathing during a breech birth. I sacrificed my wolf so you could have yours. And you hand my crown to a thief."

Dorian swallowed hard. His knuckles turned white around the velvet cushion. "Kane said you were useless. He said you were holding Blackstone back."

"Kane is a coward," I replied, holding my son's gaze. "A real leader faces the consequences of his actions. Look at him now."

Dorian looked at the dais. Kane was sobbing, a pathetic, wet sound that made the visiting dignitaries turn their heads in disgust.

"Fix him, Mom," Dorian pleaded, taking a step toward me. "Please. He's going to die."

"He made his choice," I said.

"But you are the Luna!" Dorian shouted, tears finally spilling over his eyelashes.

"Not anymore," I said.

The final tether snapped. Kane's mark completely dissolved from my neck. A massive weight lifted from my shoulders, leaving me hollow but free.

Kane let out one last pathetic whimper and went entirely limp against the ruined marble. He was still breathing, but just barely. His wolf was broken.

Sasha scrambled backward, her hands stained with Kane's blood. She looked at the crowd, her chest heaving. "She did this! Wren cursed him! Arrest her!"

"On what grounds?" a visiting Alpha asked, stepping out of the crowd. "She simply accepted his terms."

"She used dark magic!" Sasha shrieked, grabbing the skirt of her gown. "Look at her! She has no wolf. She couldn't survive a rejection without dark magic!"

"She survived because she told the truth," an older pack elder said, stepping out of the shadows. "The goddess protects the innocent."

"She is a monster!" Sasha cried out, pointing a shaking finger at my face. "Look at her neck!"

A strange sensation prickled beneath my skin.

It didn't hurt. It felt cold.

A faint silver light surfaced right where the mating mark used to be. It crawled up my neck, tracing the line of my collarbone.

The temperature in the banquet hall plummeted. The torches lining the walls flared bright blue, then settled into a stark, unnatural white.

A low, rumbling growl vibrated through the floorboards.

It didn't come from Kane. It came from the shadows at the very back of the dais. From the empty iron throne reserved for the High King.

Every visiting Alpha in the banquet hall stiffened. Their heads snapped toward me. Their pupils constricted into thin slits.

The silver glow beneath my skin pulsed, branching out like glowing veins. It illuminated the dark hall, casting long shadows against the stone walls.

The elderly pack elder dropped his cane. It clattered loudly against the floor. He pointed a shaking, crooked finger at my throat.

"That is Royal blood," the old man screamed, his voice cracking violently across the silent hall.

"That is Royal blood!" Elder Bram screamed, pointing a trembling finger at my throat.

"Impossible," a visiting Alpha barked, shoving past a banquet table to get a closer look. "The Royal line ended a century ago."

I pressed my palm against the side of my neck. The skin no longer blistered from Kane's rejection. Instead, raised, smooth ridges pulsed beneath my fingertips. I dragged my nails across the silver glow, expecting it to wipe away like cheap paint. It didn't budge. The light embedded itself deep into my veins, forming a complex, glowing crest.

"It is real," Bram insisted, dropping to his knees. His forehead touched the cold marble floor. "The silver wolf has returned."

"Get up!" Sasha shrieked from the dais. She kicked at Bram's discarded cane, sending it skittering across the stone. "She is a fraud! Kane told you all what she is. A useless cripple!"

I stepped toward the dais. Sasha scrambled backward, her stolen gold silk dress tangling around her ankles.

"Kane called me useless last winter," I said, my voice carrying over the panicked murmurs of the crowd. "He tore the winter cloak I sewed for my son and threw it straight into the fire. He told everyone I was a broken vessel."

Sasha gripped the edge of the shattered marble, her eyes darting around the room for support. "You are broken! You cannot shift!"

"I believed him," I told her, shifting my gaze to Dorian.

My son stood completely frozen near the steps, his knuckles white around the velvet cushion.

"For ten years, I locked myself in my room during every full moon," I said to Dorian, ignoring the murmuring Alphas. "I listened to the rest of you howl. I thought the border war killed my wolf. I thought saving those warriors drained my spirit entirely."

Dorian swallowed hard. "Mom..."

"My wolf never died," I said, pressing two fingers against the glowing silver crest on my neck. The energy surged, warm and absolute, pushing back the cold draft of the hall. "Kane knew exactly what I was. He forced his mating mark over this crest to suffocate my bloodline. He chained a Royal to keep himself in power."

Gasps erupted across the banquet hall.

"Treason," a woman whispered near the back doors.

"He bound a Royal," another Alpha said, his voice trembling. He dropped heavily to one knee.

Within seconds, the remaining dignitaries followed. The heavy thud of knees hitting the stone floor echoed through the vast room. The Blackstone guards dropped their weapons, bowing their heads. Even Dorian sank down, the crystal crown sliding off the cushion and rolling away to hit a table leg.

Sasha stood alone on the dais, surrounded by kneeling wolves. She looked down at Kane's unconscious, bleeding body, then back at me.

"Do not bow to her!" Sasha yelled, her voice cracking into a pathetic whine. "I am the Luna! I wear the gold!"

A chair scraped loudly against the stone near the back of the dais.

The sound sliced through Sasha's hysteria. Everyone froze.

A tall figure rose from the iron throne reserved for the High King.

He wore a heavy black cloak. The fabric swept over the steps as he descended. The torches flared brighter, illuminating his sharp jaw and piercing golden eyes.

"Step aside," the man commanded.

Sasha stumbled out of his path, her fake bravado crumbling instantly. She pressed her back against the stone wall, terrified.

The man walked past Kane's broken form without a single glance. He moved down the center aisle. The kneeling Alphas bowed their heads lower, pressing their faces toward the floor.

I stood my ground. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my chin raised.

He stopped two feet in front of me.

Up close, I recognized him. Kael. The rumored exiled prince, a ghost whispered about in border taverns and late-night guard patrols. I had never seen him in person, yet his presence demanded absolute submission.

Kael stared at my face for a long second. He didn't look at my tattered velvet dress or the frayed hem. He looked directly into my eyes.

Then, the man who commanded the entire room lowered himself to the floor.

His knee hit the marble with a solid thud.

"Kael," I whispered, the name slipping out before I could stop it.

"Seven years," he said, his voice a low, hoarse rasp.

He reached out. His large, calloused hands gently enveloped my right hand. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt up my arm, chasing away the last lingering chill of Kane's rejection.

"What do you mean?" I asked, staring down at his bowed head.

Kael looked up. The golden irises gleamed with a violent, contained intensity.

"I watched from the borders," Kael answered, his grip tightening slightly on my fingers. "I watched that coward parade you around as a trophy while he drained your life."

"You knew about the mark?"

"I knew your blood," Kael corrected him. He brought my hand toward his face. "I waited seven years for this rotting mark to die. I waited for you to break the chain."

He pressed his lips to the back of my fingers.

The kiss burned hotter than the silver crest on my neck.

A choked sob broke the silence. Sasha fell to her knees on the dais, finally realizing the magnitude of her mistake.

"My King," Elder Bram croaked from the floor. "The Royal blood has returned to the throne."

"She is the throne," Kael stated, not breaking eye contact with me.

He stood up, towering over the kneeling crowd. He kept my hand secured in his.

"Alpha Kane of Blackstone broke a fated oath," Kael announced to the room, his voice projecting effortlessly. "He suppressed a Royal bloodline. By our laws, his life is forfeit."

"No!" Dorian shouted, jumping up from the floor. He ran toward us, stopping a few feet away. "You can't kill my father!"

I stepped in front of Kael. "Dorian, stay back."

"Tell him, Mom!" Dorian pleaded, pointing at Kael. "Tell him to spare Kane! You owe us that much!"

"I owe you nothing," I said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. "I gave you everything, and you handed my crown to a thief."

"He is still my father," Dorian argued, his face flushing red. "You are just being spiteful because he chose Sasha."

Kael shifted his weight. "Boy, speak to your mother with respect, or I will remove your tongue."

Dorian flinched, shrinking back into the crowd of kneeling wolves.

"Leave him," I told Kael softly. "He made his choice."

I turned my attention back to the man standing beside me. The silver light on my neck pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.

"Why did you come here tonight, Kael?" I asked.

"To claim what belongs to the crown," he replied.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the frayed collar of my dress. He traced the edge of the silver crest, his touch feather-light.

Suddenly, Kael's hand froze.

The golden intensity in his eyes fractured. His jaw clamped shut.

He leaned in closer, his chest brushing against my shoulder.

"It's bleeding," Kael whispered, his voice so low only I could hear it. "Your bloodline is bleeding, which means..."