Vicky Hale had once carried a pup of her own James’s child, Julian’s sister. But the little wolf never survived her first moon. The loss left the Hale pack bleeding with sorrow. Years later, the Moon Goddess brought another child into their lives: Camilla. Weak, trembling, and wide-eyed, she’d been found on the outskirts of our borders. They took her in and raised her as their own.
Three winters after Julian’s birth mother died, James Hale the Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack mated Vicky, and she became Luna.
And that was when everything changed.
From the beginning, Vicky’s wolf bristled whenever I entered a room. She never said it aloud, but I could feel the static in the air whenever our eyes met. She didn’t want me near Julian. I was the wrong kind of wolf half rogue, half noble blood. Camilla, on the other hand, was her precious little moonbeam. Her miracle.
Now, standing before the Alpha and Luna in the pack’s council chamber, I watched as Camilla lowered her head respectfully and cooed,
"Father. Mother."
Her voice dripped with false innocence. Even her scent the sugary sweetness of lilac and deception made my wolf stir uneasily under my skin.
James’s gaze snapped toward Julian, his son and heir. The power in his stare made the air thrum. "So you finally decided to show your face," he growled. "You humiliated this pack, Julian. Do you have any idea what the other Alphas are saying about us?"
I wanted to bare my teeth and tell him the truth that I was the one humiliated. That this entire disaster had begun yesterday, on the night that was supposed to mark my union with Julian my fated mate.
We’d been standing beneath the sacred moonlight, our bond glowing faintly between us, about to complete the mating ritual... when Camilla’s voice came through the pack link.
Julian, please... my chestit hurts. I can’t breathe. I think my heart’s failing...
He didn’t hesitate. He left me there left us
The whispers had spread like wildfire through the pack.
The Alpha’s heir left his mate for another female.
The Luna must be furious.
Poor Elena... abandoned before the bond could seal.
Now Camilla stood before them, eyes shining with perfectly timed tears. "Father, it’s my fault. I thought I was dying. I never meant to ruin their union. Please don’t blame Julian it was me."
Vicky immediately pulled her close, curling her arms around the girl like she was made of glass. "It’s not your fault, sweetheart," she murmured. "That heart condition came from when Elena pushed you into the river all those years ago. You’ve suffered enough."
Then she turned to her mate, her tone shifting into that Luna-commanding softness that bent even the Alpha’s will. "The pack didn’t complain, James. There’s no need to be so harsh."
I’d seen this act before more times than I cared to count. Every time Camilla shed a tear, James’s anger dissolved like frost under the morning sun. And every time, I was left to take the blame. The bitter taste of injustice had long since become familiar on my tongue.
From the cold void where my spirit lingered trapped somewhere between the living and the dead I could only watch.
Julian stood tense, his shoulders rigid, his wolf pacing behind his eyes. "Where’s Elena?" he asked, his voice low but edged with something dangerous.
James scoffed. "You dare to ask? You left your mate behind at the altar. She faced the pack alone, bowed her head, and apologized for you. Then she said she was going to change out of her ceremonial robes."
His voice cracked, just slightly. "She never came back."
The words hit the room like thunder. Even Vicky’s expression faltered.
Julian’s eyes flashed with panic. "She’s not back? That can’t be. She sent me her location last night." His hands trembled as he pulled out his phone. Then he said it.
"The patrol called me. They found Elena’s ceremonial gown... near Silver Shore."
My father’s voice rumbled through the Alpha’s hall, the heavy silence of the packhouse pressing down like a storm.
"Where did she go?!" he snapped, his wolf bleeding through in the growl that followed.
"How would I know?" Julian bit out, his eyes sharp and haunted, like a predator who’d just realized he’d lost his mate’s scent.
My father turned on him, fury burning in his gaze. "Did you even think about her when you ran off in the middle of the bonding ceremony? And now you act like you’re worried?"
Julian didn’t answer. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, restless, guilt thick in his scent. Then, without another word, he turned toward the door, muscles tense with suppressed panic. "I’m going out."
"I’m coming with you," Alpha James said, already moving to follow. His authority rolled through the room, heavy and commanding, but even he couldn’t hide the fear beneath it.
I watched from the in-between half spirit, half memory as Julian stormed out into the night. His strides were quick, his energy frayed. I could feel it even from here. The bond between us was broken but not gone, tugging faintly in the void like a dying heartbeat.
Funny.
Now he cared?
Now that I was gone?
..
At the Patrol Station
Julian slammed his hands on the counter. "Beta Harris, tell me everything you know."
The Beta Sheriff Harris Tucker looked up from his notes, his eyes weary. "Early this morning, a runner from the northern patrol found something floating near the riverbank at Silver Shore. At first, they thought it was a body. When they pulled it out, it turned out to be a ceremonial gown pure silk, custom-made, still reeking of blood."
Julian’s shoulders went rigid. His wolf pushed against his control, eyes flashing gold for a heartbeat.
"It matches the one your mate was last seen wearing," Harris said quietly.
Camilla stepped forward, her aura deceptively soft, submissive even. "Did they find anything else with it? Any trace of her scent?"
Harris shook his head. "Nothing."
Camilla sighed, pressing a delicate hand to her chest. "Honestly, Elena probably tossed her gown into the river to make everyone panic. She’s always been dramatic like that."
Her voice was sweet as honey and twice as poisonous.
Her words tore through me like claws. Was that really what she thought? Or was she still pretending?
"She loves pulling stunts like this," Camilla continued smoothly. "You all know how she is always wanting someone to chase after her."
The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed slightly. "And you are?"
"I’m her younger sister," she replied with practiced innocence, her tone laced with the faintest tremor of fake sorrow. "Elena has always been... manipulative. When I was five, she led me into the woods and pushed me into the river. She tried to drown me."
I wanted to howl.
To scream her lies into the moonlight.
But I couldn’t. My voice was nothing more than wind through the pines silent, unseen, forgotten.
"She’s always played the victim," Camilla went on softly. "She knew how to twist people around her finger."
How many times had I told the truth? How many times had no one listened? Somehow, it was always her they believed.
Sheriff Tucker flipped through his notes again. His expression was unreadable. Then his voice came, low and grim.
"We ran tests," he said. "The gown was soaked in blood. Confirmed to be Elena’s."
Julian froze.
"There were two puncture wounds," Harris continued. "Deep. One to the abdomen, one to the back. From a blade or claws. If she was wearing that gown when it happened..."
He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.
Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating.
Julian’s hand shook as he held a paper cup of water. It trembled violently, spilling across the table. His wolf fought to break free, the faint crackle of energy rising from his skin. His bond to me screamed beneath his ribs faint, distant, but alive enough to hurt.
So now it hit him.
Now he was starting to feel it.