Scarred by His Bite, Crowned by the Moon

My mate was an honest wolf who didn't know the first thing about romance. No moonstone band at our mating ceremony. Not a single bloom in five cycles. In our den at night, he was a plank of wood.

When I finally carried his pup and asked him to come to my heat-carrying examination at the Healing Hall, he frowned like I was asking too much：

“Next time, okay? I've got to keep grinding so you and the pup can have a good life.”

The other she-wolves all said the same thing：“Lore-keeper Ashthorne stays in the Lore-Hall until the moon is high every night, earning enough to feed a litter. He's loyal, he doesn't stray. You should be grateful.”

I told myself the same thing. He just wasn't wired for romance.

Then I walked out of the Healing Hall alone after my examination, and my feet stopped dead.

Across the open ground, Roderic Ashthorne was carefully helping a young performing Omega into a sleek black obsidian carriage.

This wolf who had shared a cramped old den with me for five cycles was dressed head to toe in the finest pelts and fabrics, a master-crafted timepiece on his wrist, every hair in place.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine roses nearly buried Seraphine Velvetmoor whole. He leaned down and kissed her.

That face, always so flat and indifferent, wore an expression I had never once seen: reverent, doting, utterly tender.

I stood frozen at the edge of the path, one hand over my five-moon belly, tears blurring everything. Somewhere deep inside me, my wolf went very still, the way a creature goes still when it scents danger on the wind.

That night, I logged into a second account on the spirit network and pulled up the feed Roderic had blocked me from.

A ten-carat moonstone ring, slid onto her finger as he knelt. A cycle's worth of journeys across distant territories……

He was never a poor lore-keeper. He was never cold by nature.

His generosity, his romance, had simply never been meant for me.

I wiped my eyes and reached for my crystal communicator：

“I accept the offer. I'll lead the Silvercrest Pack's vast territory-strengthening endeavor.”

In five days I would cross the ocean and disappear from his life.

1.

It was the blocked feed that finally showed me: my mate wasn't just a humble lore-keeper. He was a co-owner of one of the great packs.

His yearly take wasn't the pittance he'd told me. It was a fortune in gold moons.

A cycle ago, Seraphine Velvetmoor had come to his Lore-Hall to study for a performance. That was how they met.

Good-morning and good-night sendings every single day since.

She was often away on distant ground, but she sent him everything：trips to the finest markets, her morning brews, glamorous images from her performances.

No matter what she posted, Roderic never left her hanging.

One image, ten thousand gold moons. A reward for sharing her day.

And when I shared something with him? The same line, every time：

“Aurora, I'm teaching. We'll talk when I'm done.”

To keep Seraphine happy, he threw luxuries at her like they cost nothing.

On my Moon Blessing Day, he'd given me something once too. A bracelet. He said it had cost him two moons' wages.

I cried so hard that day. I was so moved.

Now I knew the truth. It was a trinket Seraphine had tossed aside as rubbish.

Had he been laughing at me the whole time? His pathetic, gullible mate?

Then came the thousandth image in the feed. Roderic on one knee, sliding a moonstone ring onto Seraphine's finger.

“I'll protect your future. That's my promise.”

I looked down at my own bare ring finger, and the pain drove through my chest like a thousand needles. My wolf made a sound I'd never heard it make before, low and broken, scratching at the inside of my ribs.

My hands shaking, I tapped the latest update.

It was Seraphine's heat-pregnancy confirmation from the moon-healer.

My mind went blank.

Roderic had given her a fine-blooded courser to celebrate：

“Only the finest things are worthy of what you're going through to carry our pup.”

And my “reward” for carrying his pup?

Washing his worn things by hand for five cycles straight so he could save a few gold moons.

Footsteps at the den door. Roderic was home.

He'd changed back into his threadbare old tunic, fraying at the edges. Behind those plain spectacles his face still looked honest, decent. But now all I could see was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

When he noticed my red-rimmed eyes, he paused, then quickly crossed the room and pulled me into his arms.

“What's wrong? Did something come up at the examination?”

I didn't answer. He sighed and leaned in to kiss me.

The scent rolling off him struck me before his lips could. It was wrong. Cedar gone slightly sour, warm copper, and beneath it all a cloying sweetness that masked something rotten. Layered over it, sharp and foreign, hung overripe jasmine and sugared honey turning to decay. My stomach turned. A growl rose in my chest and I swallowed it down.

“One of my young lore-students made a mess in the Hall. I had to clean it up.”

“How about a feast of fine roasted game tomorrow? We can call it a makeup meal for our mating anniversary. Sound good?”

“Don't bother. I'm not worthy of anything that costly.”

I turned away from his lips and stepped out of his arms.

Last cycle on this same date, I sat in a feasting hall waiting for him for five hours. When he finally answered the communicator, his voice was nothing but irritation：

“Didn't I tell you I'm running a working of lore? Stop bothering me.”

As if he'd completely forgotten what day it was.

So he remembered after all. Only this time he felt uneasy enough to think about "making it up to me."

“Aurora, what is your problem? I'm laying out for a grand feast and you're still not satisfied? What exactly do you want from me?”

Pure annoyance on his face, as if I were the one being unreasonable.

I had followed this wolf for years without so much as claiming a single decent garment for myself.

One feast of fine game. Compared to everything he gave Seraphine, what was that?

I was about to speak when his communicator chimed.

He glanced at the crystal, and every crease of irritation vanished.

“Roderic, the pup kicked me… my belly hurts. Can you come stay with me?”

A sweet, breathy voice leaked from the stone.

Roderic panicked. He turned and headed straight for the door.

Only at the threshold did he seem to remember I existed, not even looking back：“Emergency at the Lore-Hall. I've got to go. Get some sleep.”

I watched the wolf and all his lies disappear through the door, and I laughed until the tears came.

Five more days. Then you won't have to sneak around anymore. I'll set you free.

Half a turn of the moon later, Seraphine's feed on the spirit network updated.

“How does this wolf love me so much~”

In the crystal recording, Seraphine was doubled over with heat-sickness. Roderic, who could not abide a speck of filth, caught her sickness in his bare hands without a second of hesitation.

I thought of a few weeks past, when I was sick all over the den floor. He didn't even try to hide his disgust.

I begged him to take me to the Healing Hall. He yanked his hand out of mine：

“I have an important Council review today. If I miss it, I might lose my standing. Take a carriage. Be good.”