Rejected, Imprisoned, and Reborn as Luna Queen

my ears. Eight years bound in the shadow cells beneath the mountain, stripped of my place in the pack, forbidden even to shift.

And the wolf who sentenced me there was my own mate.

**

Prisoner of the eighth cell, the warden said, dragging me back to the present. You are free now. See that you walk a better path.

A bitter smile touched my lips. As if I had ever walked a crooked one.

The iron-banded doors groaned open, and true sunlight touched my face for the first time in eight years. Waiting beyond the gate stood a dappled mare hitched to a modest cart, one belonging to Lucien's household. For one traitorous moment, my heart lifted. Had he come himself?

But the figure who stepped down was Bob Hawthorne, his second and most trusted enforcer. Whatever hope had flickered guttered out at once.

"Alpha Lucien had pack matters that could not wait, Luna Selene. He asked me to bring you home."

I said nothing, and began walking toward the cart.

"Wait, my lady." Bob reached into a pouch at his belt and cast a handful of ground moonstone dust across my shoulders and hair before I could step back. Some caught in my eyes, stinging sharply, and when I understood what he'd done, I nearly laughed.

"Alpha Lucien said moonstone dust wards off ill fortune. He asked that it be done before you climbed in."

Something inside me cracked quietly in two. "Ill fortune. He believes I carry it with me now."

"My lady, the Alpha didn't mean"

I let out a hollow laugh, turning my gaze to the empty seat where Lucien should have been. "Has he already forgotten it was his own hand that sent me into the shadow cells?"

I said nothing more. Bob took up the reins in silence, and the road unwound beneath us as memory dragged me back to that stone hall, back to the moment my life had been unmade.

**

My voice had trembled so badly that day, standing before him in the empty chamber after the Council dispersed, when I finally asked the only question that mattered.

"Why?"

Something flickered across his face, guilt perhaps, though it vanished before I could be certain.

"Evelyn was attacked in the border village after our bond ended," he said quietly. "It broke something in her mind that never healed. Long ago, before you and I ever bonded, I swore an oath to her. Six favors, as recompense for what she suffered. When she was accused, she said she could not bear the shadow cells. I could not refuse the oath."

A chill spread through me deeper than any winter. He finally met my eyes. "Selene. I am sorry."

Sorry. The word rang through my mind like a struck bell.

"Hear me," he continued, his voice low and urgent. "However many years this takes, I will wait for you. I swear it on the moon above us. You are my mate. Nothing changes that."

I laughed until it hurt, until tears slid down my face and the bitterness pooling in my chest turned to something close to venom.

Seven years. I had loved Lucien Blackthorn for seven long years before that night. When Evelyn first left him, he had haunted the mead halls, drowning himself in wine he barely tasted, and every night I had been there in the shadows, making certain he found his way home safely. When he forgot to eat for days, I brought food to his chambers myself. I learned every habit, every quiet detail that made him who he was.

I waited, patiently, the way only a wolf certain of her fated bond could wait.

Then one evening beneath a full moon, he looked at me as though seeing me for the first time. "Selene. Be my mate."

I believed my patience had finally been rewarded. After our bonding, he remembered every dish I favored, every festival, every anniversary. He made me believe I was loved.

But it took only a single plea from Evelyn to unmake all of it. I do not want to face the shadow cells. Without hesitation, he chose her, and to spare her, he cast me away entirely.

"Trust me," he had said.

Trust him. The wolf who had just buried me alive before the entire Council with his own hands.

"My mate will always be you, Selene." Those were the last words he ever said to me.

**

"Selene. We've arrived." Bob's voice pulled me back into the present, and ahead of us, through the fading light, the towers of Hexagon Prime finally came into view.

The memory vanished, and I slowly opened my eyes. They felt sore, dry, and faintly burning. How long had it been since I'd wept?

Years, certainly. In the shadow cells, I had cried until nothing remained inside me to cry with. The healer who tended the prisoners once told me my tear ducts had been damaged beyond mending by the cold and the dark. "You may never weep properly again," she'd said, and at the time I hadn't cared, because there had been nothing left in the world I considered worth weeping over.

I turned toward the edge of the cart. The road outside had grown unfamiliar, lined now with the timbered halls and carved storefronts of the territory's upper village, where only the wealthiest bloodlines kept their homes. Before I could ask why we had stopped here rather than at the manor, the cart's canopy was drawn back, and bright afternoon light poured in around a familiar figure.

Lucien.

My mate.

Eight years had passed, and yet he looked exactly as I remembered him. Tall, broad through the shoulder, his sharp features still carrying the quiet authority of an Alpha who could alter the fate of an entire territory with nothing more than a lowered word.

A smile spread across his face when he saw me. "Selene," he said warmly. "Come, step down."

He extended his hand toward me.

"Marga has spent the whole day preparing a welcome feast in your honor. You're the only one the hall is waiting for."

The words nearly made me laugh. Lucien was still exactly the same. Gentle. Patient. Endlessly kind.

At least where Evelyn was concerned.

His hand settled naturally against my shoulder, and my body stiffened at once. Before I could pull away, a bright voice rang out across the square.

"Selene!"

The instant Evelyn appeared, I felt Lucien quietly withdraw his hand from my shoulder, as though he had been caught at something shameful. I lowered my eyes and said nothing. Of course.

Evelyn hurried toward me, her eyes already red and glistening, and before I could step aside she caught my hand in both of hers.

"Selene," she said, her voice trembling, "I am so sorry for everything that happened. I know what my blade did to your brother, and I have grieved it every single night since. I only wanted the chance to tell you properly."

I did not answer, and the silence that followed grew thick enough to choke on.

Evelyn bit her lip, looking more wretched by the moment, and as I expected, Lucien stepped smoothly into the gap. "Marga rose before the sun today," he said, his voice softening the moment he turned toward her. "She chose the hall herself, hung every banner with her own hands."

Evelyn shook her head quickly. "Lucien, please, don't"

He pressed on as though she hadn't spoken. "She hasn't eaten a bite all day. She was so afraid nothing would be perfect for you." Only then did his gaze return to me. "Selene, she is trying, truly."

"I am," Evelyn added at once, her voice small.

Together they made it sound as though I were the unreasonable one in this, as though eight years bound in the shadow cells beneath the mountain had been some small misunderstanding between friends.

No one asked how I had survived down there. No one asked what the cold and the dark had carved out of me. No one asked how many nights I had wept myself hoarse, or how it felt to be branded a murderer for a death I had never caused.

No one cared. All that mattered to any of them was whether Evelyn's guilt looked convincing enough.

I was on the verge of speaking when Lucien caught my wrist. "Come," he said, and without waiting for my answer, he drew me toward the great hall.

Before we had even crossed the threshold, voices spilled out through the open doors, loud enough that there was no mistaking them for anything but deliberate.

"If it weren't for Lucien and Marga's generosity, I'd hardly believe it. A welcome feast for a murderer, of all things."

Someone gave a short laugh.

"Truly. What exactly are we celebrating? That she got away with killing her own kin?"

A ripple of laughter followed.

My fingers curled slowly into my palms.

"I warned Lucien years ago," another voice said. "A wolf raised in that kind of den was never going to run clean."

"Just so."

"I heard her brother used her cruelly for years, since she was a pup all the way through her first shift."

My chest tightened.

Every word was a lie, yet they kept spinning them.

"They say she finally snapped and tore his throat out herself."

"That's not even the worst of it." The voice dropped, savoring the moment. "I heard she killed her parents too, because they always favored the elder son."

"Truly?"

"So it's said. Hated them for it, apparently. Then their carriage went over the ravine road not long after. Tell me that isn't strange."

"I knew there was something wrong with her."

"By the moon, she's a frightening thing."

The rumors grew louder and bolder with each retelling, as though repeating a lie enough times might transform it into truth. No one mentioned that my brother had never once raised a hand against me. No one mentioned that my parents had died because the mountain road had iced over that winter. No one mentioned that Evelyn herself had spent years feeding these very stories to anyone in the pack willing to listen.

Why would they? The truth held no flavor. The lie was delicious.

Beside me, Lucien suddenly went rigid. His expression darkened, and in the next breath he wrapped an arm around me, one hand pressed over my ear while the other drew me hard against his chest.

It was a familiar gesture. For years, whenever cruel talk had reached me, whenever I had broken down in tears, Lucien had done exactly this, sheltering me from the world, holding me close, swearing that all would be well. I had once believed him to be my den, my shelter, my home.

How amusing, that the very wolf who had taught the pack how to bare its teeth at me was now trying to shield me from the bite.

The trembling he expected from me never came.

Slowly, I lifted my hands, thinner and more brittle than they had ever been before the shadow cells, and without hesitation I pushed him away.

Lucien stared down at me, his eyes widening with something between shock and hurt. I knew precisely what passed through his mind in that moment. There had been a time when such rumors would have shattered me entirely, a time when he alone had been the one to gather the pieces.

Nothing will ever harm you again, Liv. I will guard you with my life. I swear it on the moon.

I had believed every word of that oath once. But I no longer needed his shelter.

Something shifted behind his eyes, a flash of something almost suffocating, and then anger swept across his face, directed not at me but toward the hall behind us. In the next instant he drove the great doors open with a single kick.

The sound cracked through the hall like a thunderclap, and silence fell over every wolf inside.

Lucien stepped through the doorway like a gathering storm, tall and broad-shouldered and terrible to behold, and the room remembered all at once precisely why the entire territory feared him.

His gaze swept coldly across the assembled guests. "If any of you have something to say, say it to my face."

No one answered.

His voice dropped colder still. "Selene is my mate."

The silence held.

"She never asked for any of what has been done to her. So if you have a quarrel with her, bring that quarrel to me."

Not a soul stirred.

"Strange. You all had plenty to say a moment ago."

Several heads bowed toward the floor.

"If this feast doesn't suit you, the door is behind you. No one is holding you here."

The weight in the hall grew unbearable.

"And if I catch wind of anyone whispering behind her back again, we will be having an entirely different sort of conversation."

That silenced the last of them.

Across the hall, Evelyn's smile very nearly cracked apart. For the briefest instant, something sharp and jealous flickered through her eyes before she buried it beneath a look of practiced sorrow. Lifting a goblet of spiced wine, she began walking toward us.

"Lucien..." she said softly.

Instantly, his expression softened.

Evelyn stopped before me, carrying two goblets of spiced wine. "I know I have wronged Selene," she said, her voice trembling. "I truly do." She lifted one goblet and drained it in a single swallow before setting the second before me. "I never wished for things to end this way."

A tear slid down her cheek.

"I only ever wanted the pack to be whole again." She bit her lip. "I have carried this guilt for eight years. Please..." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Can you find it in you to forgive me?"

The entire hall watched, waiting, staring at me as though I were the villain of this tale. As though I were the cruel one. As though I were meant to comfort the very wolf whose lies had unmade my life.

Slowly, I lowered my gaze to the goblet.

Before I could speak, voices rose around me at once.

"What is wrong with her? Marga has apologized so sincerely, all but begged for forgiveness. What more does Selene want from her?"

Another voice scoffed. "We didn't gather tonight to watch Marga be tormented."

"Just so. Marga stood beside Lucien for three long years and never once minded what the pack whispered about her. And this is the thanks she receives?"

Their voices swelled louder with each word, painting me as the unreasonable one, the wolf who refused to honor Evelyn's generosity. I lowered my eyes and held my tongue.

Across from me, Evelyn bit her lip and looked ready to weep. Lucien glanced her way before turning back to me, his jaw tightening.

At last he reached over and took the goblet from Evelyn's hand. Without a word, he held it before me.

"Selene," he said, his voice low, calm, and unmistakably dangerous, "behave. Don't make more of a spectacle than there already is."

I nearly laughed. A spectacle? Who exactly was making a spectacle here? Me, or the she-wolf who had ruined my life and now performed innocence before an audience?

When I still did not take the goblet, Lucien leaned closer, his breath brushing my ear.

"You haven't seen your grandfather in years."

My body froze at once. Lucien noticed, and a flicker of satisfaction crossed his eyes.

"Drink it," he said, his tone gentling slightly. "Be good for me, Liv."

Then came the threat, hidden beneath the softness.

"Drink this, and I will personally take you to see him after."

My throat tightened. Grandfather was the only kin I had left in this world, the only soul who still mattered to me. For a long moment I stared at the dark wine swaying inside the goblet, a metallic taste rising in my throat, but I did not hesitate further. I took the goblet from his hand and drank it to the last drop.

The tension in the hall eased at once. Conversation resumed. Laughter returned. Everyone looked pleased, as though I had finally learned obedience well enough to satisfy them.

At that moment, Lucien shelled a river-crab for Evelyn and set it upon her plate. Evelyn smiled sweetly, then lifted the plate and carried it toward me herself. Without a word, she held a piece of the shelled crab before my face.

"Selene," she said warmly, "since we are friends again, take a bite. This was brought all the way from the coastal packs. It cost a small fortune."

I stared at the crab meat. For a moment I truly believed I was imagining things.

Lucien knew. He knew that shellfish had always been poison to my blood. Years ago, when we were newly courting, I had nearly died after unknowingly eating crab at a gathering of the border packs. He had sat beside my sickbed for three days and nights without sleep. He knew every dish that could harm me. He used to strip such things from every plate before it ever reached my hands.

Yet now he sat watching Evelyn offer it to me himself.

I nearly laughed. Had he forgotten? Or had he simply ceased to care?

When I did not move, his expression darkened. "If you will not eat it, I will put it in your mouth myself," he said coldly.

The hall fell silent at once.

Evelyn stepped forward, murmuring, "Lucien, don't be angry. Selene, I only want us to be friends again. That is all I have ever wanted." Before I could react, she pressed the crab meat closer.

My whole body went rigid as a memory surfaced unbidden. In the shadow cells, other prisoners had once laughed while one of them ground shellfish into my food, knowing full well what it would do to me. I remembered the suffocating pain that followed, the healer's frantic hands, the six days I lay confined to a sickbed, blood pooling beneath my skin until they nearly cut me open to save me.

Lucien knew all of this. He had received word of it himself. He knew exactly what such food would do to my body.

And still, neither he nor Evelyn relented.

The crab touched my lips. I tried, instinctively, to turn away.

"Try to spit it out," Lucien said quietly, his eyes fixed on mine, "and your grandfather will spend the rest of the year alone. Don't test my patience, Selene."

My body went rigid. Evelyn offered a sorrowful smile, as though she were the wronged party. "Selene, please. I am trying so hard to mend what is broken between us."

I looked at the crab meat, then at Lucien, then at Evelyn. Slowly, I opened my mouth.

Evelyn pushed it inside at once.

The hall relaxed visibly. Several guests even smiled, as though they had witnessed a tender reconciliation rather than a humiliation. I chewed, swallowed, and sat in silence.

"There," Evelyn said happily. "See? We are friends once more. I knew you would forgive me in time."

Laughter rippled through the hall. Evelyn went on filling my plate with crab while Lucien shelled more of it for her, never once stopping her. Instead he calmly cracked shell after shell and set each piece before me.

"Eat," Lucien commanded. "Marga prepared this feast for you herself. Don't let her labor go to waste."

So I ate. One piece after another vanished from my plate, each bite like swallowing shards of glass. No one noticed. Or perhaps no one cared. Least of all Lucien, whose attention remained fixed entirely on Evelyn.

"Eat more," he told her gently, laying another piece upon her plate. "You've barely touched your food all day. You'll fall ill if you keep neglecting yourself."

Evelyn smiled shyly. "Thank you, Lucien. You always take such care of me."

The tenderness in his voice had once belonged to me. Now it belonged to another.

My stomach began to twist violently. The pain was familiar, sharp, burning, dangerous. Sweat dampened my back as the hall slowly began to spin around me.

Across the table, Evelyn was still smiling. "Selene, let us eat together," she said, lifting another piece toward me. "After tonight, we leave all of this behind us."

I looked at the food and felt my stomach lurch. Something surged up my throat. My breath caught, and a sharp pain tore through my chest.

I coughed.

Blood burst from my mouth, splattering bright red across the white linen.

The entire hall froze. Someone screamed. Benches scraped violently against stone. Evelyn's face drained of all color.

Lucien moved instantly, without hesitation, stepping in front of Evelyn so that the blood struck his tunic instead of her gown.

His first instinct had always been to shield her.

Not me.

Never me.

That was my last thought before the darkness took everything.

My body collapsed backward, and the final sound I heard before the dark closed over me was someone crying out my name.

"Selene!"

When I opened my eyes again, everything around me was pale and dim. Whitewashed walls, a low stone ceiling, the sharp smell of crushed herbs and healing salves hanging thick in the air. My head throbbed, and my stomach felt as though it had been carved open from the inside.

Beside the pallet, Lucien sat in silence.

The moment he noticed I had woken, whatever concern had touched his face vanished at once.

"You truly went all out tonight," he said coldly. "If you didn't wish to eat the crab, you could simply have said so."

I stared at him.

Lucien crossed his arms and let out a bitter laugh. "But coughing up blood? That's a new trick. I hadn't realized you'd grown this desperate for attention."

My heart sank. "You think I feigned it?"

My own voice sounded rough, broken, almost unfamiliar even to myself. For some reason the question made him frown, his gaze lingering on me. Because this was not the Selene he remembered.

The old Selene had smiled. The old Selene had spoken softly. The old Selene had looked at him as though he had hung the moon itself in the sky.

That wolf no longer existed.

His eyes drifted slowly downward. The healer's shift hung loose across my frame. My wrists looked frighteningly thin, my cheeks hollowed out. The shadow cells had taken nearly everything from me.

I watched understanding settle slowly over his face. Earlier, when he had carried me from the hall, he must have felt it too. I was too light. As though barely anything remained of me at all.

He sighed and sat back down beside the pallet, his large hand reaching for mine, his palm warm against my ice-cold skin as he covered the back of my hand, as though trying to coax some warmth back into it.

"Selene, I know you're angry," he said softly. "But I've already fulfilled three of the six vows I swore to Marga. Only three remain, and once they're done, all of this will finally be behind us."

I stared at the ceiling and said nothing.

For the first time all evening, there was real anticipation in his voice. "I'll finally be free of the past," he went on. "Then it will be only us. No more complications, no more old debts, no one standing between us any longer."

His expression softened as he leaned closer. "You always wished to leave this territory, remember? You used to tell me you wanted a quiet den somewhere far off, surrounded by wildflowers. I'll claim an estate beyond the northern border, a vast one, and fill every corner of it with flowers if that's what you still want. You'll never have to trouble yourself with anything again, because I mean to spend the rest of my life making this right."

The future he described sounded beautiful. Peaceful. Like something out of an old fireside tale.

The trouble was that I no longer cared. The wolf who would once have wept with joy to hear such promises had died within me eight years ago.

After a long silence, I finally asked, "Where is Grandfather?"

Lucien went still. The warmth vanished from his face, and for one brief moment he looked genuinely caught off guard.

Before he could answer, the chamber door burst open.

"Lucien, Marga has fallen ill again," one of his enforcers said, breathless. "She's taken suddenly unwell and keeps calling for you through the link."

Everything about him changed at once. The concern in his eyes, the tension gathering in his shoulders, the urgency sharpening his voice.

"What's happened to her?" he demanded.

"We aren't certain yet. She says she feels faint, and her stomach pains her."

Before the enforcer had even finished speaking, Lucien was already on his feet. The hand covering mine vanished, and with it, whatever warmth it had lent me.

"I'll go to her," he said. That was all.

No answer to my question. No word of comfort. Not even a backward glance. He simply walked from the chamber, and the door fell shut behind him.

I stared at the empty doorway and let out a cold laugh. Of course. What exactly had I expected?

A few moments later, the door opened again. This time it was a healer's apprentice, a young woman who glanced nervously about before hurrying to my side.

"My lady, have you offended someone with great power?" she asked quietly. "Your wounds were grave, yet someone ordered us to hand your mate a false account of your condition."

My fingers tightened around the woolen blanket. "A false account?"

She nodded and pressed a folded parchment into my hands. "What was shown to your mate spoke only of a minor reaction to shellfish. This is your true diagnosis."

I lowered my eyes to the page. At first the words blurred together, and then, slowly, they sharpened into meaning.

Grave injury to the stomach. Foreign matter lodged within. Surgery required at once.

My hand trembled.

"There are several foreign objects within you," the apprentice explained gently. "Small stones, fragments of iron, and signs of damage long unhealed. They must be drawn out without delay."

The chamber fell silent.

After a while I asked, "How badly is my throat harmed?"

Her expression darkened. "The old wounds never mended properly," she admitted. "Whoever did this to you left lasting damage."

I closed my eyes, and at once the memories came flooding back.

My first month in the shadow cells. Several prisoners cornering me in the feeding hall. Forcing my jaw open while they laughed. Pressing food mixed with grit and metal shavings down my throat. I remembered choking, retching blood, begging them to stop while no one came and no one helped. That day, I had truly believed I would die down there in the dark.

The apprentice left soon after, leaving me alone with the parchment.

As I stared blankly at the page, another memory rose unbidden. Years ago, before everything had unraveled, a thief had torn my satchel from my shoulder in the lower village, and in the struggle a blade had opened a shallow cut along my leg. The wound had been nothing, and yet when Lucien saw it, he had looked as though his entire world had crumbled.

"I should have guarded you better," he'd said, carrying me home in his arms. "Tell me where it hurts, Selene. I'll summon every healer in the territory if I must."

After that, he had come to walk me home from the village himself each evening, even when it carried him far out of his way. Through storm and deep winter alike, he never once complained.

Back then, I had truly believed he loved me.

Now, looking at the parchment in my hands, I could only laugh bitterly at myself. I had been a fool. The greatest fool alive, to believe any wolf who swore to love me forever.

The surgery had to be performed at once, but I had no means to pay for it. Every coin I had earned before the shadow cells still sat locked away under Lucien's authority.

So I reached for him through the mind-link.

The moment he answered, I came straight to the point. I need surgery. The healers found stones and iron lodged in my stomach. It must be done immediately.

Lucien's voice came back edged with a laugh. Selene, are you truly still at this? I have enough troubles weighing on me tonight. Can you not spare me trouble for one single evening?

My hand tightened around nothing, gripping at air.

I am not lying, Lucien. The healer said there are stones and metal inside me.

Enough, he snapped through the bond. The account already sits before me. A reaction to shellfish, nothing more. And now you tell me you suddenly require surgery? What next, will you tell me you're dying as well?

My chest tightened painfully.

Then another voice drifted faintly through the link behind his.

Evelyn. Lucien, my stomach aches.

Everything about him shifted at once.

"Marga, did you eat something you shouldn't have?" he asked gently through the bond. "I told you not to touch anything sharp-spiced while your moon-sickness is upon you. I'll have something else brought to you."

A moment later, the link fell quiet.

I sat there staring at nothing for a very long while.

I had already given up on him. I knew that. So why did it still hurt, as though someone had wrapped a rope around my heart and kept drawing it tighter?

I wanted to weep, but I couldn't. My tears had dried up years ago. So I laughed instead, until my stomach ached, until no sound was left in me at all.

In the end, the one who paid the healer's fee was not my mate. It was my childhood friend, Lyra Whitemoon. She sat beside my pallet, her eyes red, as they always seemed to be these days. Of everyone in my life, she alone had visited through all eight years in the shadow cells. The only one who had never abandoned me.

She lit a twist of dried tabac leaf and pointed it at me. "Tell me, Selene. How are you still standing after everything that bastard did to you? Eight years, and he let the whole territory treat you like carrion while he shielded that woman."

I looked at her quietly.

"That wolf destroyed your life, and you still let him linger in it. Were I you, I'd have clawed both their throats out by now." Fury flashed through her eyes. "Actually, forget clawing them. I would have ended them."

That made me laugh, small and broken. "Do you think I still love him?"

Lyra nearly choked on her tabac. "What else am I meant to think? Most wolves would've lost their minds by now."

I lowered my gaze. Kill them? No. Death was too easy a mercy.

Lucien had unmade my life, set me upon a stage and let the whole territory cast stones at me, turned me into a jest, a monster whispered about in every hall. And still he remained everyone's honored Alpha. Evelyn had fared even better, risen to become a singer of great renown, celebrated in every court, her voice praised in gathering halls across the land. None of them knew she had climbed that height using my own blood as the steps beneath her feet.

One day, I would drag them both down and make them feel everything they had done to me.

"Do you know anyone who keeps the pack's birth records?" I asked calmly. "Someone we can trust."

She blinked. "Aye, a few. Why?"

I turned toward the window, the sunlight beyond it cold and distant, as though it belonged to another world. "Within a month, see that every trace bearing the name Selene is struck from the pack rolls."

The chamber fell silent. Lyra's eyes widened, then pain flickered across her face, though she did not try to stop me.

"I'll see to it," she said quietly. "Just leave it in my hands."

**

A few days later, Lucien learned the truth that I had truly undergone the surgery, that foreign matter had indeed been lodged within me, that I had not lied. He came rushing to my bedside, and for the first time in years, I saw true panic on his face. He summoned healers from beyond our borders, demanded further examinations, read every report himself, and all but lived in my sickroom until the final judgment came back.

Benign. No threat to my life.

The instant he heard it, his whole body loosened, and he wrapped his arms around me, tightly, almost desperately. I could feel him trembling.

It was so absurd I couldn't help but laugh. "What's wrong? I thought you didn't believe I needed cutting open. Why so frightened now?"

Lucien went rigid. "That isn't how it was," he said quietly. "I found the truth behind the false report. I found the one responsible, and I've already dealt with her."

I said nothing.

He took my hands and pressed them to his lips. "The report was forged by one of Marga's kin-friends. She blamed you for all Marga suffered and thought she was doing right. I made certain she paid for it."

"Did you," I said softly. "What exactly did you do?"

Silence stretched between us. For the first time, he looked uneasy. "She's paid threefold your healer's fees. Covered your recovery and care, and I've warned her kin. They know what she did."

That was all. That was his justice. We both knew it was nothing next to what had been done to me.

After a long silence, he admitted the rest. "She's Marga's dearest friend. If I punish her too severely, Marga won't be able to bear it. She's already suffering enough."

Marga. Always Marga. What of my suffering? Did it count for nothing?

I wanted to scream, to tear the chamber apart with my own claws. But my ruined throat wouldn't let the words come. Instead I dug my nails into my palms until it hurt.

Lucien looked as though he wished to justify it all, but even he could find no words. Then his eyes brightened, as though he'd remembered something urgent. "Selene, trust me. Only three vows left. Once they're fulfilled, this ends, and we'll finally be well again. After that, it will be only us. I'll spend the rest of my life making this right. I promise you won't regret staying."

I closed my eyes. "Lucien, I'm weary. I wish to rest. Please go."

The chamber fell silent. Eventually I heard the door fall shut behind him, and I was alone.

**

The day I was released, Lucien brought the carriage himself and drove me home. I sat quietly, watching the territory pass beyond the window, timbered halls giving way to open fields. Neither of us spoke much.

When we arrived, I stepped down and looked upon the house before me. Eight years had passed since I'd last stood on this ground. Everything looked familiar, yet none of it felt like mine anymore. My gaze drifted toward the garden where I'd once grown tomatoes, peppers, wild strawberries, and fruit trees. Every trace of it was gone, replaced by rows of roses, bred deep red and heavy-headed.

Beautiful. Costly. Entirely useless.

Within the entryway, I searched instinctively for my old worn boots of blue leather. They had vanished, replaced by a delicate pink pair cut in a style that matched Evelyn's tastes exactly. I stopped walking.

Lucien noticed at once. Without a word he kicked the pink pair aside and drew out another from the chest. "Here," he said awkwardly. "I had your old boots thrown out. They'd worn through. I haven't had the chance to have new ones made yet."

I lowered my eyes and said nothing. Old boots, old flowers, old memories. Some things were remarkably easy to replace.

The silence unsettled him. Before he could explain further, my gaze shifted toward the main hall. A woman's garments lay strewn across the settee, an embroidered pouch on the low table beside vials of scent and ribboned hairpins. The signs of another wolf making her home here were impossible to mistake.

Lucien followed my gaze. "Marga suffered another spell a few days past, so a kin-friend brought her here. Don't trouble yourself she's keeping to the guest chamber."

As if afraid I wouldn't believe him, he led me upstairs and opened the door. "See? She's staying here."

I glanced inside and nodded. No anger, no jealousy, no reaction at all.

For some reason my indifference seemed to unsettle him more than any outburst could have. His brow furrowed before he pulled me into his arms. "Selene, I missed you. You refused every visit while you were in the shadow cells. I couldn't sleep. Every night I dreamed you hated me."

A bitter smile touched my lips. Dreams? Reality had kept me awake for eight years.

I pushed against his chest and stepped back. "I don't wish to speak of the past."

Lucien froze, then let go. "Very well. It's over. All of it belongs to the past now."

I nearly laughed. Over? Truly?

As if afraid I wouldn't believe him, he led me upstairs and opened the door to the guest chamber. "See? She's keeping to this room."

I glanced inside and nodded. That was all. No anger. No jealousy. No reaction at all.

For some reason, my indifference seemed to unsettle him more than any outburst could have. His brow furrowed before he suddenly pulled me into his arms. "Selene, I missed you," he said roughly. "You refused every visit while you were in the shadow cells. I couldn't sleep through a single night. Every night I dreamed you hated me. Every night I feared you'd never forgive me."

A bitter smile touched my lips. Dreams? Reality had kept me awake for eight years.

I pushed against his chest and stepped back. "I don't wish to speak of the past."

Lucien froze, then slowly let go. "Very well," he said quietly. "It's over. All of it belongs to the past now."

I nearly laughed. Over? Truly?

Before I could ask after my grandfather, the door below opened and Evelyn swept in, laden with parcels from the village market. The moment she saw Lucien's hand upon my wrist, something ugly flickered across her face before vanishing behind a bright smile.

"Selene, we should go down to the market fair," Evelyn said cheerfully, linking her arm through mine. "You've only just left the healer's care. We must find you proper new garments."

Lucien looked suddenly embarrassed. "Your old things had been stored away too long," he admitted. "Marga thought they'd no longer fit you, so she had them given away."

My eyes lifted slowly.

Evelyn watched me carefully, clearly awaiting some reaction. Instead, I simply drew my arm free and said, "Very well."

The disappointment on her face was almost amusing.

Before we left, I told them I needed a moment alone. Instead, I slipped quietly upstairs, first into Lucien's study, then into Evelyn's chamber. My movements were careful, silent as a shadow-wolf's tread. By the time I came back down, a small scrying charm lay hidden within each room, tucked where no careless eye would find it.

**

The market fair was crowded that afternoon, wolves and villagers alike moving in every direction, the lanes filled with noise and jostling bodies. Lucien stayed close beside us until Evelyn suddenly pointed toward a cider stall across the square.

"Lucien, would you fetch me a cup of that spiced cider?" she asked sweetly.

Without suspicion, he nodded and walked off toward the stall. The moment he vanished from sight, Evelyn's smile dropped away entirely.

"So you're still alive," she said coldly.

I looked at her calmly.

Evelyn laughed. "You truly are fortunate, Selene. After everything, you still drew breath."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "No matter. Today I'll show you plainly which of us Lucien chooses."

I did not answer. There was no point. I already knew the answer. Nothing had changed.

Evelyn suddenly raised her voice and screamed, a piercing cry that any wolf's ear would mistake for true terror, and the crowd around us surged into panic at once.

"What's happened?"

"Run!"

"Move aside!"

The crowd swelled forward like floodwater breaking a dam. Within moments Evelyn and I were torn apart, bodies shoving between us as chaos swept through the square.

Then I saw Lucien running toward us, his face carved with alarm.

"Marga!" he shouted.

Evelyn immediately crumpled to the ground, weeping. "Lucien, I'm so frightened. Please don't leave me."

Without hesitation he ran straight to her. For one brief moment his eyes swept across the crowd, searching, but Evelyn seized his arm tightly.

"Please don't leave me," she cried again. "I'm terrified."

Lucien hesitated only a moment before bending down and gathering her into his arms. Then he carried her away, toward safety, his broad back disappearing into the crush of bodies.

I watched him go. I could have called his name through the bond we still shared. I could have told him I stood right there. But why would I? Evelyn wanted me to see plainly which of us he would choose.

How ridiculous, this whole performance. There had never been any need for such a test. Lucien had made that choice years ago.

Someone slammed into me from behind. Pain exploded through my body as I crashed to the cobblestones. A boot came down upon my shoulder. Another crushed my hand beneath it. No one stopped. No one cared. Every soul in that square was fighting only to save themselves.

My vision blurred as my fingers twisted painfully beneath someone's heel. The air grew too thin to breathe. My stomach cramped violently. Head, shoulders, chest, all of it ached so badly I could no longer tell where one pain ended and another began.

The world spun around me. Voices grew distant. Fainter. Fainter still.

Then everything went black, and I lost all sense of myself.

**

When I woke again, I was back within a healer's chamber. The first thing I saw was Lucien standing by the narrow window, a pipe of dried herb-leaf smoldering between his fingers, smoke curling upward into the dark beyond the glass. For a moment he looked utterly worn through.

The scent reached me, and my chest tightened at once.

"Cough... cough..."

I began coughing violently.

Lucien spun around so fast he nearly overturned the chair beside him. "Damn it," he cursed, crushing the pipe out against his bare palm before hurrying to my side. The smoke still hung thick in the air.

For some reason he looked nervous. Almost guilty.

"Selene, at the fair I meant to come back for you," he said roughly. "Marga was struck suddenly with a fainting spell, and you know how frail her constitution has always been. I feared for her, so I carried her clear first. After that, I meant to return and find you."

I looked at him quietly.

Lucien dragged a hand through his hair. "By the time I came back, you were already gone."

Silence settled between us. I turned my gaze away. "I understand."

Lucien frowned. "You understand?"

"Yes," I said calmly. "I understand."

How could I not? After all these years, I understood better than any wolf alive. Whenever it came down to Evelyn or myself, he would always choose Evelyn. The words he offered weren't truly meant for me. They were meant to ease his own conscience.

Lucien stared at me. Something dark flickered across his face, and my calm acceptance seemed to unsettle him more than any fury could have.

After a long silence, I finally asked, "I wish to see Grandfather."

His expression softened slightly. "Your grandfather suffered some trouble with his heart a few days past, but don't fear," he said, crouching beside the pallet. "I've already summoned the finest healer of such ailments in the territory. It isn't grave, and he's being watched closely."

My body stiffened at once.

Lucien squeezed my hand gently. "See to your own healing first."

I looked at him and asked, "When may I go to him?"

After a brief hesitation, he answered, "The moment you're strong enough to stand properly, I'll take you there myself."

My ribs still ached with every breath, yet hearing that Grandfather was unwell made my chest tighten all the same.

For the following day, Lucien scarcely left my side. He remained in the chamber, reviewed pack ledgers, took council through the mind-link from the corridor, and brought meals to me himself. For brief moments, it almost felt like the old days.

Almost.

The next evening, the bond flared suddenly with Evelyn's voice, her sobbing filling the chamber as clearly as if she stood beside us.

Lucien, I know you care for Selene, I know she's your mate, but we loved each other first. Why is she doing this to me? What have I done to deserve such treatment? Is she trying to force me into my grave?

My fingers slowly tightened around the woolen blanket.

"Marga, be calm and tell me plainly," Lucien said at once through the link, his voice softening. "What's happened?"

Before she could answer, the connection went silent, severed as though she'd wished it so.

Lucien's expression changed instantly. Without a second thought he snatched up his cloak and strode for the door.

I didn't know what had happened. But something within me sank all the same. Nothing good ever followed Evelyn's weeping.

The moment Lucien left, I reached through my own bond to Lyra, the old friendship-thread we'd shared since childhood, thin now but never broken.

She answered almost at once. Selene?

Lyra, I need another favor.

"Anything."

"Please find out which healing house shelters my grandfather."

There was a brief pause before her voice came back through the bond. "I'll see to it."

Night had already fallen deep when Lucien returned. A storm raged beyond the walls, rain hammering against the shutters like a hundred small fists. The chamber door slammed open so hard it struck the wall.

I opened my eyes.

Lucien stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, his clothes soaked through, water dripping from his cloak and hair. At first I thought it was only rain.

Then I looked closer.

The liquid running down his sleeve was not clear. It was red. Blood.

Before I could speak, he strode toward me, his face dark and furious. "Selene, why in the moon's name did you do this?"

I frowned. "What are you speaking of?"

He let out a cold laugh. "You truly wish to ask me that?"

I stared at him, confused. "What's happened?"

Without warning, he drew a small scrying mirror from within his cloak and cast it onto the bed. Its silvered edge struck my hand painfully. I flinched and looked down.

Visions filled the glass, one after another. Evelyn, years ago, being carried from a tavern in the border villages, her gown disheveled, her name already being cried through the marketplace by that evening: Lawyer of the Court Assaulted After Drink! A thousand whispers had followed, spreading from crier to crier until half the territory called her a mistress, a homewrecker, a disgrace to her bloodline.

Slowly, I looked back up. Lucien's face was terrible to behold.

"I found the crier who first spread it," he said coldly. "I tracked down every soul involved, and do you know what he told me? A woman calling herself Muffin sought him out. She wanted no coin, no favor. She wanted only one thing." He stepped closer. "To destroy Marga."

The chamber suddenly felt suffocating.

Lucien stared straight into my eyes. "The proof points to you alone. What else am I meant to believe?"

I shook my head at once. "It wasn't me."

"Selene"

"It wasn't me," I repeated, forcing the words through my ruined throat. "I swear it on the moon, it wasn't me."

For a brief moment, doubt crossed his face. Then it vanished, and his jaw tightened.

The next instant, his hand cracked across my cheek.

My head snapped sideways, pain exploding through my face. My ears rang. My skin burned, though somehow that was not what hurt the most.

Lucien stood over me, his eyes cold with fury, looking at me as though I were the criminal, as though I had ruined a life rather than had mine ruined first.

"Selene, how did you become so vicious?" His voice had gone low enough to silence an entire Council hall.

Slowly, I turned my head back toward him. Blood lingered at the corner of my mouth where I'd bitten through my own lip.

"I didn't do it," I said hoarsely.

But Lucien no longer listened. His fists tightened. "Marga opened her own wrists over this. She nearly died, Selene. She wept while the whole territory tore her apart, and you expect me to believe you had no hand in it?"

Every word landed like an accusation.

"This isn't finished," he said. "You don't get to wound her and walk free of it."

Then he turned and left without another glance, without asking whether I spoke truly, without caring enough to hear the whole of it. The door slammed shut behind him.

The chamber fell silent. I stared at the empty doorway for a long while before a quiet laugh escaped me, one that sounded far more like a sob. In my mind I heard the vows we had exchanged beneath the full moon on our bonding night.

What a jest that had turned out to be.

"Lucien," I whispered, my voice barely more than breath, "what exactly did you ever keep of those vows?"

A few hours later, I understood fully what he'd meant by not finished.

Evelyn's scandal vanished overnight. Every whisper, every rumor, every tale carried by the criers disappeared as though none of it had ever been spoken. The territory moved on from her.

It did not move on from me.

A new scandal rose in its place. Mine. Or rather, the shape of it they wished the pack to believe.

False visions spread through every scrying pool and seeing-glass in the territory, conjured by some spell-worker's cruel hand. Illusions showed me bound to a bed. Others showed my dead brother standing over me. Still more painted me among strangers, old wolves, young wolves, anyone they could use to make me appear something foul and disgusting.

None of it was real. None of it mattered. The pack believed it anyway.

My name, my face, my whole life were flung across every market square and gathering hall like carrion for the crows.

The whispers multiplied with every passing hour.

Disgusting.

No wonder she's mad.

Like brother, like sister.

Perhaps she wanted it.

She's jealous, since Marga is the prettier one.

She means to destroy another wolf's happiness because her own mate no longer loves her.

My hands began to shake as I gripped the edge of the scrying glass harder and harder.

No. No. No. Every vision was false. My brother had never touched me, never once.

The old lies that had ruined me years before had returned, crueler now than ever. My chest tightened, the chamber began to spin, and suddenly I couldn't draw breath. The stone hall of the Council flashed through my mind, followed by the whispers, the stares, the shadow cells, the humiliation, the hatred. It felt as though unseen claws had wrapped around my throat and were tightening with every heartbeat.

Somewhere in the distance, voices called out.

"Selene, look at me. Breathe, stay with us!" someone urged.

"Fetch the healer, now!" another voice cried.

My vision blurred until everything dissolved into noise. Then something pressed over my mouth and nose, sweet-smelling herbs meant to calm a failing breath.

One breath. Two. Three.

Slowly the darkness retreated. Shapes returned. Colors returned. Eventually, so did Lucien.

His face appeared above me, and for one brief moment I thought I saw real worry in his eyes. Then the bond flared with another voice.

Evelyn.

Of course. Always Evelyn.

He answered at once. "Marga, what's wrong? Speak to me."

I couldn't hear her reply, but I watched him rise to leave regardless. Before vanishing through the door, he said gently, "The false visions are gone now. Don't fear, I won't let this happen again."

Then he left. Again.

And I was alone. Again.

**

Over the following days, Lucien rarely came to see me, though the pack made certain I knew exactly where he spent his time instead. Visions surfaced daily in every seeing-glass across the territory. Evelyn and Lucien walking along the shore. Watching the sun set together from a cliff's edge. Sitting side by side atop some mountain overlook, laughing, smiling, the very picture of a bonded pair.

The whispers adored them. No one cared that Evelyn had knowingly pursued a mated Alpha. No one cared that I remained his true mate still. Instead the pack called them fated, true love, a romance destined by the moon itself.

Tales spread from hall to hall. Some claimed Lucien had once gifted an entire gathering of young wolves with charms just so he might slip one to Evelyn unnoticed. Others said she'd mentioned wanting honeyed cakes from some distant village, and he'd ridden through the night to bring them back to her by morning.

The tales grew more absurd with each passing day. The pack loved them regardless. Some even begged Lucien to set me aside and take Evelyn as his true mate instead.

Evelyn made certain I saw every vision, every whisper, every tale, sending them to me herself, one after another, hoping to provoke me into losing what little composure remained. I ignored all of it. I had already made my choice.

I no longer wanted this wolf. Not now. Not ever again.

That night, I drew out the scrying charms I had hidden within Lucien's study and Evelyn's chamber, meaning only to be certain they still held their working.

Then the vision surfaced within the still water, and I froze.

Evelyn stood unclothed within her chamber, tears filling her eyes. Across from her stood Lucien, his face tense, torn.

"Lucien, this is my fourth wish. You swore me six, and this is all I ask of this one," Evelyn said, stepping closer, catching his hand in hers.

His frown deepened. "Marga, don't do this. You know this isn't right."

Tears slid down her cheeks as she shook her head. "Please. Only this once. Don't refuse me."

Lucien's jaw tightened. He closed his eyes. For a long moment, neither of them moved.

He should have pulled free. He should have walked from that chamber. He should have refused her outright.

Instead, he hesitated.

And he stayed.

That alone told me everything I already knew.

A slow smile crossed my face, not because it wounded me, and not from anger, but because the vision had merely confirmed what I had long since understood in my bones.

I sealed the vision within the charm, keeping it safe, then let the water still once more.

Lyra worked swiftly. Within two days she found the healing house where Grandfather was being tended, and gave me the name of another wolf, one who could see to it that every trace of Selene was struck from the world entirely. All was nearly ready. Only one thing remained.

See Grandfather before it was too late.

The morning I left, I dressed with care, even brushing a little color onto my cheeks to hide how worn I looked. Along the way I gathered a bundle of wildflowers. For the first time in years, I felt something close to nervousness.

When I was sentenced, I had begged Lucien for only one mercy. Do not tell Grandfather.

He was the wolf who had raised me, who had taught me to sit a horse, who had walked beside me on the path to the training grounds, who had always saved the largest cut of meat for my plate at supper. He knew nothing of the rumors, nothing of the lies, nothing of what the pack claimed my brother had done to me.

Because none of it was true. My brother had never once touched me.

He was dead now and could not defend his own name, yet the pack still dragged it through the mud regardless. Grandfather was old, his heart weak with age, and I could not bear the thought of those accusations ever reaching his ears.

Standing outside his chamber, I tightened my grip on the flowers and let myself smile, just slightly. Perhaps all would be well. Perhaps I would finally see him.

My fingers touched the door.

Then something shattered within the room, followed by a sharp voice.

Evelyn laughed. "Look closely, old man. See these visions? Your precious granddaughter, bound to a bed. I have dozens more, should you wish to see them."

My blood ran cold.

Evelyn pressed on, merciless. "Do you know what your granddaughter's dead brother did to her, all those years? He defiled her. Again and again. He ruined her."

Every word a lie.

She laughed again. "But that isn't even the worst of it. You were the one who sent Selene to live under his roof. What does that make you, old man? An accomplice? A failure? Perhaps you deserve this too."

My breath caught in my throat.

Evelyn stepped closer to the pallet. "Your granddaughter is a disgrace. The whole territory knows it now. They know what manner of wolf she is, what manner of bloodline bore her. Tell me, old man, why does a creature like her still draw breath?"

I kicked the door open so hard it struck the wall.

"GRANDFATHER!"

My ruined voice cracked through the chamber.

Evelyn spun around, the smile falling from her face, replaced by something that looked almost like disappointment at being interrupted.

My bundle of flowers slipped from my hands.

I looked straight at Grandfather. His face had gone the color of ash. His hands trembled violently. Tears streamed down his weathered cheeks as one hand clawed weakly at his own chest. The moment his clouded eyes found me, more tears spilled free.

His lips trembled. "O... Selene..."

I ran to his side. "Grandfather, I'm here. I'm here now."

His shaking hand reached toward me. "Oli..."

The healer's ward-stone at his bedside, the small crystal that watched over a failing heartbeat, suddenly flared bright and shrieked with warning light.

Healers rushed forward. Apprentices called out orders. The chamber fell into chaos.

Then Evelyn screamed. "My foot! It's bleeding!"

I turned and saw dark blood spreading beneath her slipper. She had stepped upon the shards of broken porcelain she herself had thrown earlier.

The door burst open. Lucien rushed inside. "Marga, what's happened?"

The moment he saw her weeping, his gaze locked onto her entirely.

Evelyn seized his cloak. "Lucien, I'm frightened. My foot hurts so terribly."

Without hesitation he lifted her into his arms. Only then did his eyes find me, sweeping from my tear-streaked face to Grandfather lying senseless upon the pallet. Somehow, even then, he reached the wrong conclusion.

"Selene," Lucien said coldly, "how many times must I say this? Why must you keep causing Marga such grief?"

I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.

My grandfather lay dying. And he troubled himself over Evelyn's foot.

The ward-stone shrieked louder as healers labored to save him.

Evelyn suddenly clutched at her chest. "Lucien, I can't breathe."

Panic swept across his face at once. "Marga, stay calm." Then he turned toward the healers. "I said, attend to her."

One apprentice hesitated. "But my lord, this patient"

Lucien's expression darkened. "I said attend to her. Do not make me repeat myself."

The entire ward fell silent.

His voice thundered through the stone chamber. "If anything befalls Marga, every soul in this room answers to me."

My heart stopped.

The healers looked helplessly between Grandfather and Evelyn, caught and terrified.

I stumbled forward and caught at Lucien's sleeve. "Please," I begged. "Grandfather has collapsed. Please, let them save him." Tears blurred my sight. "Please."

For one moment I thought he might listen. Instead, disgust flickered across his eyes.

"Your grandfather had strength enough to strike at Marga," Lucien said coldly. "Cease pretending he's at death's door."

I shook my head frantically. "He never touched her. Never."

But Lucien had already decided, as he always did. He pulled free of my grasp, turned, and walked from the chamber carrying Evelyn in his arms.

The healers exchanged helpless glances. Then one drew slowly toward me. Before he even spoke, I already knew.

"My lady," the healer whispered, his voice breaking, "I am sorry."

No.

"Your grandfather has passed beyond the veil."

No!

The world stopped turning. Tears struck my arm, one after another. I hadn't wept in years, yet suddenly I couldn't stop.

I shook my head, over and over. "No."

The healers began withdrawing, already ordered from the chamber, nothing more within their power to do. I grabbed at their sleeves desperately. "Please, save him. I'll do anything." My knees struck the stone floor. "Please!"

I bowed my head again and again until my brow struck the ground, blood running down my face, though I felt none of it. "Please save him." But no one stopped. One by one, they left, until only Grandfather and I remained.

The chamber lay painfully silent. I stared at his still form, and something within me finally broke apart entirely. A scream tore loose from my throat, raw and broken, the sound of a wolf who had lost every last thing left to lose.

This time, no one remained to hear it.

**

On the day I was meant to leave the territory, the sky looked ready to collapse in on itself, dark clouds smothering every trace of sunlight. It matched my life well enough.

The days before had been spent seeing to Grandfather's rites. I signed the pack ledgers, received kin I barely knew, accepted condolences, and repeated the same hollow words until they meant nothing at all. By the end, I felt nothing whatsoever.

I returned to the house one final time, only to gather my belongings.

The moment I stepped inside, I found Lucien seated in the main hall. For a heartbeat I scarcely recognized him.

He had not come to Grandfather's rites. He had not sent word through the bond, had not asked once how I fared. And yet there he sat, comfortable in our house, as though nothing at all had happened.

Shadows ringed his eyes. A stack of parchment sat upon the low table before him. The moment he saw me, he rose and pushed it toward me.

"Look this over," Lucien said wearily. "I've already reviewed it myself. Read it, and tell me if anything troubles you."

I lowered my gaze.

A severance scroll, unbinding our mate-bond before the Council.

Lucien rubbed his temples before continuing. "This is Marga's fifth wish, and the sixth is to stand as her husband for the span of a month. Once I've fulfilled it, all of this will finally be behind us, and we can move forward."

My fingers paused slightly upon the parchment.

"Marga wants a bonding ceremony," he said calmly. "A true one, at least in the eyes of those watching. That is the fifth thing she has asked of me."

I remained silent.

"We'll sever our bond before the Council first," Lucien explained. "It's only the formality of it, a matter of scrolls and seals. There will be a season's waiting, and then the ceremony will be held."

He leaned forward slightly. "But it won't be recorded in the true pack ledgers. It won't be binding beneath the moon, only enough to satisfy her wish. Once it's done, all will return to how it was."

How it was.

I nearly laughed. My brother was gone. My grandfather was gone. My bond, my mate, my whole life, gone. What exactly remained for anything to return to?

Without a word, I took up the quill and signed my name.

Selene Muffin.

The signature came out neat and steady, as though it belonged to some other wolf entirely.

Lucien stared at it for several long moments before releasing a slow breath, relief plain upon his face.

"It's finally over," he said, his voice lighter than I'd heard it in years. "After this, we can leave everything behind and begin anew." He leaned back. "You always wished to see beyond our borders. We'll leave this territory and travel wherever you please. We'll bring your grandfather along, and spend proper time together at last."

My heart stopped.

I stared at him. Had he truly forgotten? Or had he simply never cared enough to remember at all?

Grandfather was dead.

Before I could speak, the bond flared with another's presence, and everything about him shifted at once. The tension left his shoulders. The weariness vanished from his face. His eyes softened the instant he recognized the caller.

Evelyn. Always Evelyn.

"Marga," Lucien answered at once. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

Her cheerful voice carried through the link. We agreed we'd try wedding gowns today. Don't tell me you've forgotten already, I've been waiting an age.

Lucien glanced toward the window, gauging the hour by the light, and cursed softly under his breath.

"Forgive me," he said quickly. "I lost track of the day. I'm coming now, I'll be there soon."

Evelyn laughed softly through the bond. You always say that. If you don't hurry, I'll choose the ugliest gown I can find.

A smile touched his face. "Be good and wait for me," he replied gently. "Don't wander off alone. I'll be there before you know it."

The link fell quiet. He gathered his cloak and started toward the door.

Halfway there, he stopped. Something made him glance back.

I still sat upon the settee, watching him. For some reason, he frowned, as though something felt wrong, as though he'd forgotten some matter of importance.

The feeling lasted only a heartbeat.

"Wait for me," Lucien said, smiling again. "We'll speak tonight. There's still much to discuss between us."

Then he left. The door closed behind him, and the house fell silent.

I sat there a long while, listening to the emptiness settle around me.

Eventually I rose and walked to the storage chest, drawing out our bonding album from beneath old furs where it had been hidden away. Dust coated its leather cover. My fingers brushed lightly across it.

Once, I had believed that bonding was the beginning of my happiness.

What a foolish dream that had been.

I opened the album. Page after page of painted likenesses filled it, smiling faces, joyful memories, vows that had sounded eternal at the time.

Lies, every one of them.

I stared at the first likeness for a long moment before tearing it clean in two. The sound echoed through the silent house. Then I tore another, and another, page after page, likeness after likeness, until shredded parchment lay scattered across the floor around my feet. Our bonding day. Our first season together. Feast-days. Anniversaries. Every memory that had once seemed precious reduced to nothing more than scraps.

I looked down at the ruin and, strangely, felt nothing at all. The wolf who would have wept while destroying those pages had vanished long ago.

After a while I closed what remained of the album and set it aside. Then I gathered my traveling case and walked toward the door.

This time, I did not look back.

The moment I had signed that severance scroll, Lucien had become another wolf's burden entirely.

As for the bonding gift I had already prepared for the happy pair, I smiled faintly to myself.

They would receive it soon enough. And when they did, neither of them would ever forget it.