The sting on my cheek spread like fire. I wanted to hit back.

But out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guests shifting around the venue. This was my coming-of-age ceremony. Causing a scene would only drag the Abell name through the dirt.

Lena stayed tucked behind Kain, that smirk still playing on her lips. She leaned into his chest like she rehearsed it.

Kain's hand hovered midair—maybe he realized he'd gone too far. His throat bobbed, like words were stuck.

But Lena rose onto her toes and whimpered, "Kain, my leg hurts so bad... What if I never walk again?"

Her fingers curled around his wrist, pulling every bit of his attention.

The whispers crashed in like waves. Their stares hit like poisoned needles, stabbing into my skin.

"No manners. She'd go after her own sister over a mate."

"As if she ever had a shot. Kain would never choose her."

Kain threw me a disgusted glare. "Why are you still standing there? If something happens to Lena, you'll regret it."

His pack of followers jumped in, loud and eager.

"Yeah, apologize to Lena!"

"You think you can cling to our next Alpha just 'cause your dad took a silver arrow for his?"

I remembered everything—breaking myself for Kain, training like hell just to scare off anyone who dared glance his way.

Thought being ruthless meant love. Now it just felt sad.

He stepped in close, eyes all beast and venom. "Father's about to announce our engagement. Be smart—stay in your lane."

Then quieter, smug as ever, "Once the bond's sealed, I'll give you the rank you deserve. Just don't mess with me and Lena."

I stared him down, locked on those eyes.

A horn blasted, long and hollow.

The Beta strode in.

"Miss Abell, it's time."

His cloudy eyes landed on my bruised cheek—pity flickered.

Behind him, a figure in black. Hood low. Jaw sharp as sin.

A silver-etched blade strapped across his back. Wolf fang pendant swaying like it had a heartbeat.

Cayce Moonfang.

Theron's oldest. Just back from the Black Forest.

Silence hit like a punch.

A few pups up front nearly dropped. Someone fumbled a wine bowl—crash. Flames hissed as the liquor met fire.

Even the Beta twitched.

Everyone knew what Cayce was capable of.

He'd just skinned a challenger from Graveclaw Pack. Still reeked of blood.

Cayce stopped right in front of me. His blade flipped once, smooth. The sheath tapped my arm—barely.

"What happened to your face?" Voice sharp, cut-glass serious. His icy stare sliced straight through me.

I met those deep blue eyes—and saw it. The memory. Him storming the dungeon bloodied and wild, holding my dead body like it broke him.

He went rogue for me.

"It's nothing." I forced a smile, tried to hide the bruise.

Kain scoffed, sliding between us. "Cayce, Eve's my problem. Don't stress."

He squared up. "She's about to be my mate. I've got it handled."

The Beta frowned, about to speak, but Cayce shut him down with one look.

He dropped his hood. Angles sharp. Expression sharper. "Dad sent me. Said the Abell girl's ceremony's a pack matter. Let's move."

I walked past Kain, steps steady.

He leaned toward Lena and muttered, "See? Still knows how to obey."

Kain was practically oozing smug, like he already saw the Alpha crest hanging around his neck.

Yeah—didn't last.

The second the pack filled the great hall, Theron stepped down from the platform, gripping that scepter carved with wolf fangs.

His silver-white hair caught the lights. Dude was ancient—like over a hundred—but still stood like a legend.

He reached for my hand, smiling.

"Big day," he said, his voice carrying as he scanned the room. "Eve's come of age. And just like I promised her father, she'll choose one of my sons as her mate. Once she does, that wolf the next Alpha."

Everyone had their theories about who'd take over Silvermoon. Being Alpha wasn't just a title—it meant total control.

Gasps rippled through the hall. All eyes snapped to Kain, some lit with envy.

Yeah, they all remembered how hard I used to fall for him.

"Now," Theron said, patting my hand, "let the chosen step forward. I'll witness it myself."

Kain shot up straighter, chin high, already halfway into his victory strut—until Theron threw up a hand.

Then Theron turned, gaze softening toward the corner.

Cayce.

He'd swapped into the ceremonial look—hair tied back tight, every angle of his face sharp enough to cut. In his hand, a bundle of Moonpetals, still glowing from the cedar woods.

He walked up, steady as ever, and stopped in front of me.

"You ready, Eve?" His voice was low. Certain.