"Don't look back, Chloe! Just keep moving!" The voice in Chloe’s head wasn't her own; it was the frantic, dying instinct of a wolf whose pack bond had just been incinerated. Her lungs burned, each breath tasting of the copper blood that still coated the sacrificial altar behind her. The sounds of the Silver Moon Pack—the jeering, the drums, and Jace’s cruel, booming laughter—were being swallowed by the oppressive weight of the tree line.

She slammed into the perimeter of the Shadow Woods, her boots skidding on slick moss. The air changed instantly. It grew cold, heavy, and smelled of ancient earth and something metallic, like a whetted blade. This was the Forbidden Forest. No wolf returned from here. It was the domain of Valerius, the Lycan King, a creature of nightmare who ruled the dark places of the world.

"Is someone there?" Chloe gasped, spinning around as a branch snapped with the force of a bone breaking. She clutched her bruised ribs, her vision blurring from the pain Jace had inflicted. "Please... if there’s anyone left with a soul, help me."

Silence was her only answer, a silence so deep it felt like it was pressing against her eardrums. She stumbled deeper into the thicket, her hands trembling as she pushed through thorn-choked bushes that should have shredded her skin.

"I can't stop," she whispered to the darkness. "I won't let them catch me. I won't let them see me die like a dog."

Chloe’s POV: She felt the shift in the atmosphere first. The forest didn't feel like a graveyard anymore; it felt like a living thing that was holding its breath. Every step she took into the forbidden territory felt like a trespass against a god, yet the terror of the pack hunters behind her was greater than the fear of the mythic king ahead. She pushed through a wall of dense ivy, expecting the vines to tangle around her throat.

"Move," she hissed at a stubborn root that blocked her path. "Just move!"

To her utter shock, the root didn't just move—it recoiled. The thick, wooden limb slithered back into the dirt as if it had been burned. Chloe froze, her heart hammering against her chest. She looked at the towering oaks ahead, their branches intertwined like a ceiling of skeletons. As she stepped forward, the heavy boughs slowly groaned, uncurling and lifting upward to create a clear, illuminated path of silver moonlight just for her.

"What is this?" Chloe murmured, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this?"

She reached out a tentative hand toward the trunk of a massive, black-barked willow. The moment her fingertips brushed the bark, a pulse of warmth radiated through her palm. The tree seemed to shiver with a low, resonant hum that vibrated in her very marrow. It wasn't an attack. It was a greeting.

"You're... you're letting me through," she realized, a sob of disbelief catching in her throat. "After everything... the forest is letting me in."

Behind her, the distant howl of a Silver Moon warrior echoed through the trees. They were at the edge. They were hesitating, fearing the curse of the Lycan King, but she knew Jace wouldn't let her go that easily. He wanted her blood to satisfy his ego.

"Chloe! There's nowhere to run!" a voice shouted from the distance—it was Jax, one of Jace’s enforcers. "The King will eat your heart before we even reach you! Save us the trouble and come back!"

"Never!" Chloe screamed back, her voice cracking. "I’d rather be a feast for a King than a slave to a coward!"

She turned and ran faster, her feet finding purchase on ground that seemed to flatten itself out to meet her stride. The forest was actively assisting her. Ferns flattened themselves into a carpet, and glowing mushrooms burst from the rot to light her way through the deepest shadows. She felt a strange, dormant heat rising from the base of her spine, a power she didn't recognize. It wasn't the weak, flickering light of an Omega. It was something ancient. Something that hummed in sync with the heartbeat of the woods.

"I’m not a void," she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she ducked under a low-hanging branch that lifted itself out of her way. "Jace was wrong. They were all wrong."

Chloe’s POV: The deeper she went, the more the air seemed to shimmer with gold and silver dust. The jagged rocks and treacherous cliffs of the Shadow Woods became a sanctuary. She felt a pull, a magnetic tug toward the very center of the forest where the obsidian spires of the Lycan Palace were said to pierce the clouds.

"Just a little further," she urged herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Just find a place to hide. Find a place where they can't find me."

But the fatigue was winning. The trauma of the rejection and the physical toll of the flight were draining the last of her reserves. Her vision flickered. The silver path began to dance before her eyes. She tripped over a small stone, her legs giving out as she tumbled forward into a clearing dominated by a monolithic stone archway.

"No, no, no," she moaned, trying to push herself up from the damp leaves. "Get up, Chloe. Get up!"

Her hands slipped on the slick ground. She waited for the impact of the earth, for the cold bite of the mud. Instead, the air around her suddenly thickened, turning heavy with the scent of ozone and ancient spice. A pair of massive, gloved hands caught her mid-fall, bracing her with a strength that felt like solid iron.

"Steady, little wolf," a voice growled. It wasn't a human voice. It was a low, guttural vibration that seemed to shake the very trees around them.

Chloe gasped, her eyes snapping open as she was pulled upright. She found herself pressed against a chest so broad it blocked out the sky. She looked up, and up, and up. Standing before her was a man who stood nearly seven feet tall, clad in armor made of dragon-scale and obsidian. His hair was long and black as a raven's wing, but it was his eyes that stopped her heart. They weren't the yellow or blue of a common wolf. They were obsidian pools filled with glowing, swirling embers.

"Who are you?" she breathed, her voice failing her. "Are you... are you the King?"

The man didn't answer immediately. He leaned down, his face inches from hers. He didn't snarl. He didn't reach for the massive claymore strapped to his back. Instead, he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he caught her scent—the scent of her blood, her tears, and the hidden spark of the Moon Goddess.

"You smell of betrayal," he rumbled, his grip on her arms tightening just enough to be possessive, but not enough to hurt. "And you smell of a destiny you don't even understand yet."

"I... I was rejected," Chloe stammered, her knees buckling again. "I have nowhere else to go. Please, kill me quickly if you must."

A dark, dangerous smile played across the man’s lips. It wasn't a smile of cruelty, but one of terrifying satisfaction. He reached out a gloved finger and traced the line of the rejection mark on her neck—the ugly, jagged scar Jace had left behind.

"Kill you?" the King asked, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver of pure electricity through her body. "Why would I destroy the only thing in this world that belongs to me?"

Chloe’s heart stopped. "What do you mean?"

The Lycan King, Valerius, leaned in closer, his glowing eyes locking onto hers with a predatory intensity that made the rest of the world vanish. The forest around them went silent, every tree and every blade of grass bowing toward him in a silent show of fealty.

"The Silver Moon fools thought they were discarding an Omega," Valerius growled, his breath hot against her skin. "They didn't realize they were delivering a goddess to my doorstep. I have sat on this throne, watching the stars turn and the empires fall, waiting for the one whose soul matches the dark."

"I don't understand," Chloe whispered, her head spinning. "I'm just... I'm nothing."

"You are everything," he countered, his voice rising with a sudden, violent passion. He swept her off her feet, cradling her against his armored chest as if she weighed no more than a feather. "I have waited five hundred years for you, Chloe. I have burned worlds in my mind while I waited for your scent to hit the wind."

He turned toward the obsidian palace, his strides long and powerful. The hunters at the edge of the woods were forgotten, a mere nuisance in the face of a king who had finally found his queen.

"Let them come for you," Valerius hissed, his eyes flashing with a promise of absolute carnage. "I will stack their bodies into a mountain just to give you a better view of your new kingdom."

Chloe closed her eyes, her head resting against the cold metal of his spaulder. For the first time in her life, she felt safe. But as the King’s mark on his own hand began to glow in response to her presence, a terrifying realization dawned on her. This wasn't just a rescue.

"Five hundred years?" she asked, her voice a faint whimper. "What happens now?"

Valerius looked down at her, his expression unreadable and ancient. "Now," he said, "we show them why the darkness should never be provoked."

As they crossed the threshold of the palace, the heavy obsidian doors slammed shut with a boom that echoed across the entire valley, signaling the end of Chloe’s life as a wolf—and the beginning of her reign as a monster. But as she looked at Valerius, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes that wasn't just desire. It was a hunger that had been starving for centuries, and she was the only thing that could satisfy it.

"You're mine now," he whispered, "and I don't share what is mine."

"Don't touch me! Please, just... just let me sit down," Chloe gasped, her voice cracking as the massive obsidian doors of the Lycan King’s foyer groaned shut behind them. The sound was final, a heavy thud that seemed to sever her connection to the living world. She swayed on her feet, the adrenaline that had fueled her flight through the Shadow Woods evaporating and leaving only a hollow, aching exhaustion.

Valerius did not step away. He stood like a monolith of dark stone, his presence filling the vaulted hall until the air felt thick enough to swallow. "You are safe here, Chloe. But you will not sit. Not until you understand exactly what you are," he rumbled. His voice wasn't unkind, but it carried the weight of five centuries of absolute rule. He reached out, his large, gloved hand hovering near her shoulder without making contact.

Chloe’s POV: She looked up at the towering man, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. The grandeur of the obsidian castle—the shimmering black floors that looked like frozen water, the torches that burned with a strange, violet flame—was terrifying. But it was the way Valerius looked at her that truly unnerved her. He didn't look at her with the pity she’d received as an Omega or the disgust Jace had shown at the altar. He looked at her like a man seeing the sun for the first time after an eternity in a cave.

"I know what I am," Chloe whispered, her hands clutching the tattered remains of her ceremonial dress. "I’m a void. Jace showed everyone. The tests... they said I’m sterile. I’m a broken Omega who can’t give a pack anything. That’s why he chose Bella. That’s why he threw me away."

"Jace is a blind whelp playing with matches in a world of lightning," Valerius spat, his obsidian eyes flashing with a sudden, violent heat. He took a step closer, forcing Chloe to tilt her head back. "He looked for a vessel to carry a common wolf, and when he found your soul too vast for his meager bloodline, he called it empty. You are not a void, Chloe. You are a Lunar Vessel."

"A what?" Chloe asked, her brow furrowing. "I don't understand those words. The Moon Goddess made me weak. She made me the lowest rank."

"She made you a temple," Valerius corrected, his voice dropping to a low, reverent growl. He began to pace around her, his heavy boots clicking against the polished floor. "A wolf's womb carries a litter. A Lunar Vessel carries the essence of the Goddess herself. You were never meant to be the mate of a mere Alpha. Your body was designed to house the power of the King of Kings. You were 'sterile' to Jace because his spark was too weak to even ignite the pilot light of your soul."

Chloe shook her head, her mind reeling. "No, that’s just a story. A myth. I’ve felt weak my whole life. I’ve been pushed down, bitten, and mocked. If I had that kind of power, wouldn't I have felt it?"

Valerius stopped directly in front of her. "It was dormant, waiting for the one key that could unlock it. The Goddess did not make you an Omega; she made you a Queen in waiting. And I have waited longer than any man should be asked to wait."

"So what happens now?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling. "Do you keep me here as a guest? Do I... do I serve you?"

"You do not serve me," Valerius said, and for a fleeting second, his expression softened into something almost tender. "You rule with me. But first, the bond Jace tried to sever must be replaced. The vacuum in your soul is dangerous, Chloe. It will pull in the darkness of this forest and consume you if it isn't filled by a true claim."

"Wait," Chloe said, taking a step back as a new kind of fear spiked in her chest. "You mean a mark? You want to mark me? Now? I just... I just lost everything. I can't think straight. I need time."

"Time is a luxury the dying do not have," Valerius stated. He wasn't asking. The air in the room began to vibrate, the violet torches flaring bright as his Lycan aura expanded. "The Silver Moon hunters are still at my borders. If they find you without a King’s protection, they will kill you. I will not lose you again because of your hesitation."

"Valerius, please, let's talk about this!" Chloe cried, her heart racing. "I don't even know you!"

"You have known me in your dreams since you were a child," he countered, his hand suddenly moving with the speed of a striking viper.

Chloe’s POV: She didn't have time to scream. Valerius’s hand didn't grab her throat; it cupped the back of her head, pulling her firmly toward him. His other hand gripped her waist, anchoring her against his armored chest. He smelled of old parchment, cold iron, and a wild, intoxicating musk that made her wolf—the one she thought was dead—suddenly howl with a ferocity she had never known.

"This will hurt," Valerius whispered against her ear, "but it will be the last time anyone ever makes you feel small."

Before she could protest again, his head dropped. He didn't bite with the hesitation of a lover; he claimed with the authority of a god. His fangs pierced the sensitive skin of her neck, right over the jagged rejection scar Jace had left.

Chloe’s world exploded.

It wasn't just the pain of the bite, which was sharp and searing. It was the flood of power that followed. It felt as if a dam had burst inside her chest, pouring liquid silver into her veins. The "void" Jace had spoken of was suddenly filled with a roaring, incandescent fire. She felt her vision turn white, her feet leaving the floor as Valerius held her. The power didn't stay contained within them; it surged outward in a visible shockwave of white and violet light.

The windows of the obsidian hall shattered inward, the glass turning to dust before it hit the floor. The very foundations of the castle groaned, and outside, the ancient trees of the Shadow Woods bowed so low their branches snapped.

Chloe’s POV: She could feel it spreading. The mark wasn't just a brand on her skin; it was a tether that lashed her soul to his. She saw visions of five centuries of loneliness—Valerius sitting on a throne of bone, watching the moon, waiting for a girl who hadn't been born yet. She felt his hunger, his possessiveness, and his absolute, unshakeable loyalty.

"Mine," a voice echoed in her mind—not her voice, and not quite Valerius's, but the voice of the bond itself.

The surge of energy reached its peak and then snapped, a psychic boom that rippled across the landscape. It traveled through the trees, over the rivers, and slammed into the borders of the Silver Moon territory like a physical blow. Every wolf in the hemisphere felt it—a sudden, crushing pressure that forced them to their knees, their instincts screaming that a new, superior power had been born.

Valerius finally pulled back, his fangs retracting, though a smear of Chloe’s blood remained on his lip. He looked at her, his obsidian eyes now glowing with an unbearable brilliance. Chloe gasped for air, her skin shimmering with a faint, silvery light that refused to fade. The mark on her neck was no longer a scar; it was a beautiful, intricate sigil of a moon entwined with a crown, pulsing with a steady, rhythmic glow.

"There," Valerius breathed, his voice ragged. "It is done. You are a Vessel no longer empty."

Chloe leaned against him, her body humming with a terrifying amount of energy. "I... I can feel everyone," she whispered, her eyes wide. "I can feel the forest. I can feel... him."

Jace’s POV: Back at the Silver Moon Pack’s Great Hall, the celebration was in full swing. Jace sat on his throne, a cup of wine in one hand and Bella’s thigh in the other. He was laughing at a joke made by one of his enforcers, feeling the high of his new "strength" and the relief of being rid of the "Omega dead weight."

"To the new Luna!" a warrior shouted, raising his glass.

Jace opened his mouth to respond, but the words never came.

Suddenly, a localized earthquake seemed to hit the hall. The floorboards buckled. But the physical shaking was nothing compared to the agony that ripped through Jace’s chest. It felt as if a giant, invisible hand had reached into his ribcage and grabbed his very soul, twisting it with the intent to break it.

"Agh!" Jace shrieked, dropping his wine. The glass shattered, staining his boots red.

He fell forward off his throne, his hands clutching at his heart. It felt like his chest was being hollowed out. The bond he had so arrogantly severed earlier that night was being forcibly overwritten by something infinitely more powerful.

"Jace! What's happening?" Bella screamed, reaching for him, but she was thrown back by a literal spark of static electricity that jumped from his skin.

Jace couldn't answer. He was gasping, his lungs refusing to take in air. He felt a presence in his mind—a cold, terrifyingly vast presence that dwarfed his own Alpha status until he felt like an ant under a boot. He saw a flash of silver light, and within that light, he saw Chloe. But it wasn't the Chloe he knew. She was radiant, terrifying, and she was standing in the arms of a monster made of shadows and obsidian.

"No," Jace wheezed, his eyes bulging as the pain intensified. "No, she was... she was nothing!"

The agony reached a crescendo, a soul-deep rip that made him howl in a way that sounded like a wounded animal rather than a proud Alpha. He felt his own "Alpha" aura—the very thing he prized most—flicker and dim, crushed under the weight of a superior claim.

Around the room, his warriors were also collapsing, clutching their heads as the psychic shockwave of the King’s Mark battered their senses. The joy of the evening had turned into a scene from a nightmare.

Jace curled into a fetal position on the floor, his crown rolling away into the shadows. He could feel it. Somewhere in the distance, his "discarded" mate was being claimed by a King. And even through the pain, he knew one thing with terrifying certainty: his rejection hadn't destroyed Chloe. It had unchained her.

"What have I done?" Jace whispered into the dirt

"Don’t let go, Valerius! It feels like my skin is boiling! Make it stop, please!" Chloe’s voice was a jagged shard of glass, echoing off the obsidian walls of the King’s private sanctum. She was hunched over on the velvet furs, her fingers clawing at the stone flooring. The silver light that had begun with the mark was no longer a glow; it was a conflagration, radiating from her marrow and pushing against her very pores.

Valerius’s POV: He stood over her, his obsidian eyes burning with a mixture of predatory pride and deep, ancient concern. He didn't pull away. Instead, he dropped to one knee, pinning her thrashing shoulders down with his massive, gloved hands. "I cannot stop what the Goddess has ordained, Chloe. Breathe. The 'weakness' they lied to you about is shedding. Let the brown fur die. Let the Omega burn away."

"I can't... it hurts too much!" Chloe gasped, her back arching as a sickening crack echoed through the room. Her spine was lengthening, her ribs shifting and expanding to accommodate a frame that was no longer meant for servitude. "Jace... he said I was nothing. Why is this happening?"

"Jace saw a pebble and called it worthless because he couldn't see the diamond inside," Valerius growled, his voice vibrating in her chest. "You are molting, my Queen. You are shedding the skin of a slave to wear the coat of a god. Look at me! Do not focus on the pain. Focus on the power I gave you."

Chloe’s POV: She tried to focus on his eyes, but the world was dissolving into a kaleidoscope of silver and white. The sensation of her skin tearing was replaced by an intense, itchy heat. Long, coarse tufts of her dull brown Omega fur began to fall away, littering the black floor like dead leaves. Beneath it, something else was emerging—hair that looked like spun moonlight, thick and shimmering with an ethereal luster.

"It’s too much," Chloe whispered, her voice deepening into a low, resonant thrum. "I can hear things, Valerius. So many voices... they’re screaming."

"Whose voices, Chloe?" Valerius asked, his grip tightening as her muscles surged with new, terrifying density.

"The pack... the Silver Moon," she choked out, her claws—now longer and tipped with silver—digging grooves into the obsidian. "I can hear them. I can hear all of them. They think I'm dead. They're... they're laughing."

Chloe’s POV: The transformation hit its crescendo. Her sense of hearing didn't just sharpen; it transcended. It was as if her mind had become a radio tower, picking up every psychic frequency in the hemisphere. She wasn't just hearing the wind or the trees; she was hearing the unfiltered, ugly thoughts of the wolves who had spat on her for twenty years.

"Look at the white fur," Valerius whispered, his voice full of awe.

Chloe let out a final, guttural roar that shattered the remaining crystal vials on the nearby shelves. Her body expanded one last time, her human form giving way entirely to a beast of legend. She stood on four massive paws, her head reaching Valerius’s chest even while he was standing. She was no longer a small, scruffy brown wolf. She was a massive Lycan, her coat a blinding, pure white that seemed to drink in the violet torchlight. Her ears and the tip of her tail were brushed with the color of liquid mercury.

"I... I am whole," Chloe thought, and to her surprise, the thought echoed in the room like a spoken word. She looked at her reflection in the polished obsidian wall. The creature staring back was a nightmare of beauty and ferocity.

"You are a Lunar Lycan," Valerius said, reaching out to stroke the silver-tipped fur on her shoulder. "The first of your kind to walk this earth in a millennium. Do you feel them now? The ones who doubted you?"

Chloe’s POV: She closed her eyes, and the "voices" became a deafening roar. She realized with a jolt of ice-cold clarity that the bond Valerius had placed on her hadn't just connected her to him; it had heightened her "Vessel" status, allowing her to tap into the collective consciousness of every wolf marked by a lesser Alpha.

“Good riddance to that sterile bitch,” a voice hissed in her mind—it was Sarah, the pack healer who had always pretended to be her friend.

“I hope the Shadow Woods tore her apart slowly,” another thought drifted in—this one belonged to Jax, Jace’s lead enforcer. “Alpha Jace was right to cull the weak.”

Chloe’s hackles rose, a low, tectonic growl vibrating in her throat. The silver tips of her ears flickered. "They hate me. They still hate me, even when they think I'm gone."

"Hatred is the tribute the small pay to the great," Valerius remarked, his eyes tracking the way the silver light pulsed under her fur. "Can you hear the one who broke you?"

Chloe searched the psychic static, pushing past the whispers of the rank-and-file until she hit a wall of arrogant, chaotic energy. It was Jace. His thoughts were a mess of pain and denial, fueled by the shock of the King’s Mark.

“She’s a thief,” Jace’s voice echoed in Chloe’s skull, sharp and desperate. “She stole the pack’s luck. She must have used some Omega trickery to lure the Lycan King. I’ll get her back. I’ll drag her back by her throat and show the King he was played for a fool.”

Chloe’s wolf form let out a huff of derisive laughter. "He thinks I'm a thief, Valerius. He thinks I 'stole' something from him."

"He is a man who has lost his grip on reality because he cannot fathom his own irrelevance," Valerius said, standing up and smoothing his tunic. "But he is about to become very useful to us. The transformation is complete, Chloe. You have the body of a queen and the ears of a goddess. Now, you need the heart of a ruler."

"What do you mean?" Chloe asked, her mind still reeling from the sheer volume of spite she was sensing from her former home.

"You can hear their thoughts, which means you know their secrets," Valerius said, a cruel, elegant smile touching his lips. "You know where they are weak. You know who is plotting against Jace, and you know who is truly loyal to the crown. Knowledge is the sharpest blade in this palace."

Chloe’s POV: She trotted toward the window, her new paws silent on the stone. She looked out over the vast expanse of the Shadow Woods, toward the distant, flickering lights of the Silver Moon territory. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel like a victim. She felt like a predator watching an ant hill.

"I want them to feel it," Chloe projected, her thoughts sharp and cold. "I want them to know that every time they whispered a lie about me, I was listening. I want Jace to know that he didn't reject a 'void.' He rejected the only thing that could have saved him."

"Patience, my Queen," Valerius said, stepping up behind her and resting a heavy hand on her silver-tipped head. "Revenge is a dish best served in front of an audience. And it seems our audience is making their first move."

A sharp rap at the door interrupted them. One of Valerius’s dark-clad guards entered, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the floor.

"My King," the guard said, his voice trembling in the presence of the newly transformed Chloe. "A messenger has arrived at the outer gate. He bears the seal of the Silver Moon Pack."

Valerius raised a brow. "Is that so? And what does the little Alpha want?"

The guard swallowed hard, casting a nervous glance at the massive white Lycan standing by the window. "Alpha Jace is requesting an official audience. He claims he is coming to 'report a rogue thief' who fled into your woods. He says she has stolen sacred artifacts from his pack and that he wishes to assist the King in her execution to... ensure no offense was taken by your Majesty."

Chloe’s POV: A snarl ripped from her throat before she could stop it, the sound so powerful it made the guard flinch and stumble backward. The sheer audacity of Jace—to follow her here, to lie to the Lycan King, and to offer to "help" kill her—was the final spark her new heart needed. The last shred of her love for him didn't just die; it was vaporized.

"He wants to report a thief?" Chloe’s thought projected through the room, dripping with icy sarcasm. "He wants to assist in my execution?"

Valerius looked at her, his obsidian eyes dancing with a dark, wicked delight. He saw the fire in her silver-tipped ears and the way her massive claws were unsheathed against the stone. This was the woman he had waited five centuries for—not a victim to be saved, but a partner in vengeance.

"He truly has no idea what he has walked into, does he?" Valerius mused. He turned back to the guard, his cloak swirling around him like a cloud of smoke. "Tell the Alpha that the Lycan King is a stickler for justice. Tell him I would be honored to hear his grievances. Tell him to bring his 'Luna' and his finest warriors. I want a full court for this."

"Yes, my King," the guard whispered, scurrying out of the room as if the air itself were trying to strangle him.

Valerius turned back to Chloe, who was now pacing the room with the fluid, lethal grace of a creature that knew its own strength. She looked like a ghost made of snow and moonlight, a beautiful nightmare.

"Are you ready, Chloe?" Valerius asked, his voice a low, seductive purr of violence. "By tomorrow evening, the man who called you a 'void' will be kneeling at your paws, begging for a death he doesn't deserve."

Chloe’s POV: She stopped pacing and looked at the mark on her shoulder, then at the King who had given her everything. The voices of the Silver Moon Pack were still buzzing in her head, but they were no longer a burden. They were a map. A map to their destruction.

"I don't want him to beg," Chloe thought, her eyes flashing a brilliant, terrifying silver. "I want him to watch while I take everything he ever loved. Just like he did to me."

Valerius’s smile widened, revealing his own sharpened fangs. He reached out and tilted her head up, his gaze locking with hers. "That’s my Queen. Let them come, Chloe. Let them bring their lies and their pride to my gate."

He leaned down and whispered the final words against her silver-tipped ear, words that promised a reckoning the world would never forget.

"Let them come to their own funeral."