Mireya

The air inside our modest house felt heavy enough to choke on—not from heat, but from sorrow that had nowhere left to go.

Mama sat near the window, folded into herself as though trying to disappear. Her gaze was distant, unfixed, while her shaking fingers traced the fractures in the glass pane again and again, like she was waiting for the Moon Goddess to answer through those cracks. Strands of silver threaded through her dark hair, framing her ashen face like remnants of a fire long extinguished. Ever since the cemetery—ever since they violated my sister’s resting place—something inside her had retreated completely. Her wolf no longer surfaced. It hid, wounded beyond reach.

I lowered myself beside her and carefully wrapped my hand around hers. Her skin felt cold.

“We’ll be gone soon,” I murmured, brushing my lips against her knuckles. “Two days, Mama. Just two more nights. After that, we disappear. Dominic, this pack—none of it will touch us again. I swear.”

Her eyes blinked slowly, unfocused, as though she were trying to remember who I was. Then a single tear slipped free. She didn’t speak—she almost never did now—but her fingers tightened faintly around mine, like she was anchoring herself to the last thing she trusted.

Everything was ready. Our bags were already packed and hidden beneath the loose boards in my old bedroom floor. I hadn’t told a soul—not even Sera, who sold herbs at the corner stall and sometimes looked the other way for me. The Ivyclaw Pack was no longer safe. Not with Dominic on the verge of taking full power. Not after he stripped me of everything.

I rested my head against Mama’s knee and closed my eyes. For a brief moment, there was a fragile calm between us, the kind that exists only in the still center of a storm.

Then the door shook violently.

A thunderous bang rattled the walls. Then another. And another.

My wolf surged instantly, bristling beneath my skin. I rose and stepped in front of my mother without thinking. “Who’s there?” I shouted—though dread already coiled tight in my chest.

The door burst inward.

Three wolves stormed inside, all wearing black with the Ivyclaw crest emblazoned over their hearts. Their eyes glimmered faintly, wolves close to the surface. They were massive, built like war machines, their scent thick with blood and iron.

Kael stepped forward first, a cruel grin stretching his face. “Alpha Dominic sends word.”

He tossed a crimson envelope onto the table. The gold seal was already broken.

“You’re expected at Miss Marianne’s birthday celebration,” he said. “Tonight.”

“I won’t be there,” I replied flatly.

Kael’s grin widened. “That’s a shame.”

Before I could react, he seized my mother’s arm and hauled her upright.

“Don’t touch her!” I screamed, half-shifting before forcing myself to stop. Mama whimpered, frail in his grip.

“Please—stop!” I choked. “I’ll go. I’ll go wherever you want. Just let her go!”

They shoved her aside like refuse. She collapsed into the chair, gasping softly.

My fists clenched until pain shot through my palms. Pride meant nothing now. Dignity was useless. The only thing that mattered was keeping her alive.

---

The banquet hall glittered obscenely—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, glass walls reflecting excess and power. The scent of wealth and dominance clung to the air. Marianne had turned the place into a shrine to herself. Alpha laughter echoed. Glasses clinked. Lunas whispered behind jeweled hands.

And then there was me.

While they shimmered, I stood in plain black. Barefaced. Unadorned. Defiance stitched over humiliation.

Marianne ruled the stage, draped in deep blue velvet, flawless and radiant. Dominic stood at her side, his arm draped casually around her waist. His eyes swept the room.

Then they found me.

Something flickered across his face—brief, sharp. A ghost of what once was. The look he used to give me in private, before everything burned.

Marianne followed his gaze and smiled viciously. “Attorney Mireya,” she crooned into the microphone. “I see you could make time after all.”

I didn’t respond. I stood still, unmoving.

“I arranged something special this evening,” she continued, laughing softly. “Just for you.”

As I was guided closer to the stage, she leaned in. “I know you’re sentimental.”

I didn’t understand what she meant. Not until something shifted in the air.

My breath caught.

A pull—strong, undeniable.

Warmth flared in my chest. My wolf reacted violently, snarling and crying out in confusion. My legs weakened.

My mate.

He was here. Somewhere among the crowd. I didn’t know his face or name—but I felt him, unmistakably.

The bond surged—

Then shattered.

The screen descended.

Sound filled the hall. Moans. Familiar. Horrifying.

I knew before I saw it.

Ysabel.

The same footage they’d used to torture her—now displayed for everyone.

“No…” I whispered, staggering forward.

Guards stopped me.

“Turn it off!” I screamed. “Stop it!”

Laughter rippled through the room.

“She doesn’t look unwilling.”

“Maybe she liked it.”

My lungs refused to work. My wolf clawed at my insides.

Marianne approached, smiling. “Isn’t it moving?”

Something broke.

I struck her.

The crack echoed through the hall. Dominic caught her as she stumbled, fury blazing.

“Have you lost your mind?!” he roared.

I faced him, shaking. “Do you enjoy this? Do you need to destroy her even now? Was any of it ever love—or were you always this empty?”

“You only ever saw her,” I whispered bitterly. “I was nothing to you.”

His jaw tightened. “You know the terms.”

The agreement.

“If you speak again,” he said quietly, “the next recording will involve your mother.”

That was it.

“I’ll remember this night,” I said flatly. “Every second.”

And I left.

---

I didn’t get far.

Hands dragged me into the alley. A hood. Blows.

I screamed. Fought. It didn’t matter.

“I’m a lawyer—” I tried to shout.

Slap.

Again. Again.

Pain blurred everything.

“Alpha Dominic. Punishment complete.”

“Good,” came the reply. “Payment sent.”

Darkness swallowed me.

I lay there, broken, my wolf whimpering.

And for the first time, I couldn’t even cry.

Mireya

The morning I planned to leave with my mother, I never once considered the possibility that someone would be waiting for me.

I stopped short the second her scent reached me.

She didn’t belong.

Gardenias—too heavy, too deliberate—mixed with something sharp and chemical, a perfume meant to smother her real smell. It lingered inside our small den like a warning. My bare feet touched the cool planks as I moved farther in, slow and cautious, claws aching to break free beneath my skin.

And there she was.

A stranger sat on our couch as if she’d always owned it, spine straight, legs crossed, heels pressed into the rug with quiet authority. Her hair was pulled tight into a polished bun, and the moment she noticed me, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Who are you supposed to be?” I growled, stepping forward. My wolf prowled uneasily inside me. “And why are you in my house? Leave. Now.”

Her gaze dragged over me with clear disdain. “Mm. That face…” She clicked her tongue, ignoring my demand entirely. “Ivyclaw blood does produce striking features. Shame it also produces such an unrefined attitude.”

The jab landed deeper than I wanted to admit, but I kept my expression still.

“Say what you came to say,” I snapped, lowering my center of gravity. “Because if you don’t walk out that door, I will make you.”

Only then did she fully turn toward me, folding her arms like a judge about to pass sentence. “I’m a messenger. Alpha Voren has acquired you.”

My breath stuttered. “Acquired?”

She smiled wider. “Sold. Handed over willingly—by your pack, your Alpha, and yes, even your dear former husband, Dominic. All signatures accounted for.” Her voice coiled around my chest. “You’re being transferred as Alpha Voren’s secondary companion. A political arrangement.”

My legs nearly gave out. “That’s impossible. That’s illegal.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she replied lightly, producing an aged scroll stamped with multiple seals. “Not under werewolf trade statutes. Particularly not for… compromised bloodlines.”

The name burned my throat.

“Voren,” I breathed. “The same Alpha Marianne defended? The one who assaulted a child?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Details. The rogue had no standing. You, however, are Ivyclaw-born. Healthy. Capable of producing heirs. And most importantly—unclaimed.”

Something inside me snapped. I launched forward.

I never reached her.

Two massive wolves moved faster than thought, slamming into place between us. Alpha Voren’s guards. I bared my fangs, snarling, but they didn’t flinch.

Then the door opened again.

I turned—and felt my heart drop.

Dominic. Marianne at his side. And behind them, filling the doorway like a living nightmare, Alpha Voren himself.

My wolf howled inside my skull.

“There she is,” Marianne purred, stepping closer. “Our little bargaining chip.” She tilted her head toward Dominic. “Did you explain that her sister was the original deal?”

Cold flooded my veins.

“What did you say?”

“Your twin,” she clarified smoothly. “She was meant to be delivered. But she vanished, didn’t she? Ran off with some rogue?” Marianne’s eyes glittered. “So now you’ll take her place. Dead blood has no value.”

I swallowed hard. “She’s gone,” I whispered. “She’s dead.”

Dominic recoiled. Marianne merely smirked.

“You keep insisting that. No remains, no proof. She could be anywhere—warm, hidden, pregnant.”

I screamed and surged forward again, but Dominic grabbed me this time. His hands crushed my wrists.

I searched his face desperately.

There was nothing there.

“This is necessary,” he said without emotion.

“You’re condemning me,” I spat. “Remember that.”

He shoved me straight into Voren’s arms. The stench—decay, blood, suffering—made my stomach twist.

“No!” My mother’s cry split the air.

She rushed forward, but guards restrained her. I met her gaze and gave a tiny shake of my head.

Trust me.

She sobbed—but nodded.

I went limp in Voren’s grasp. My wolf protested, but I murmured, Soon.

They forced me into an armored vehicle. I memorized everything—the guards, the locks, the road. No wolfsbane. No open windows.

Good.

I counted silently.

The road curved. Trees blurred.

I let my wolf rise.

When the turn came, I shifted.

Metal shattered. Pain exploded. I ran.

Branches tore at me as howls erupted behind. But these woods were mine.

I reached the hollow tree, found my bag, sent the message.

Airport. Terminal 2. Now.

The reply came instantly.

I’m here.

I made it.

When I saw my mother, hood up, eyes wet, I took her hand.

“Mom,” I whispered, breaking.

“…we’re finally leaving.”

Mireya

I didn’t think we’d make it out of Ivyclaw alive.

The flight was short, but my hands were clenched the entire way. Every breath I took felt borrowed, like death was sitting in the seat beside me, waiting to strike when I finally relaxed. My mother, Emma, sat beside me, clutching her coat tight around her even though the cabin was warm. Her eyes stayed on the aisle. She was watching. Always watching.

We both were.

Every passenger could’ve been one of Dominic’s men. Or worse, a spy from Alpha Voren’s side. I’d seen enough brutality in Ivyclaw Pack to know that silence didn’t mean safety, it only meant danger was waiting for a better time.

We landed far from any capital I knew. The runway was crude, and the airport small, almost deserted. As soon as the plane door opened, I smelled them, wolves.

But not from Ivyclaw. Not from any pack I recognized. Their scents were… foreign. Old. Heavy with earth and something unfamiliar. They didn’t bear the arrogance of highborn wolves, but there was a stillness in the way they stood that made my wolf stir uneasily in my chest.

“They’re not from the Packs we know,” my mother whispered, her fingers twitching at her sides, ready to shift at any moment.

They didn’t speak right away. Just watched us. Their silence was unsettling, but it wasn’t cruel. It was measured.

Finally, an older man stepped forward. His hair was silver, long, tied neatly at the nape of his neck. He looked like he belonged in a war council from an era long forgotten. His presence was strong, too strong for someone who claimed no known pack.

“You’ll come with us,” he said.

“Who are you? What do you need from us? And where exactly are we going?” I asked, squaring my shoulders despite the tremor in my voice.

He gave a slight smile. “To the Moonlight Pack.”

I blinked. “Don’t fool me. That doesn’t exist.”

“It does,” he replied calmly. “Just not for those who shouldn’t know about it.”

We had no choice.

The wolves surrounded us like a loose ring, never too close, never too far. Protective, maybe. Or a warning. We were ushered into a black, heavily tinted van that smelled faintly of pine and metal. There were no windows to track the direction. Just the soft humming of tires over unfamiliar roads.

I sat there, the silence pressing against my skull, trying not to let the panic in my chest show. We’d barely escaped one prison. Now we were being driven into another, and I didn’t even know its name.

The old man sat across from us in the van, his posture stiff but not unfriendly. “Name’s Cassius,” he offered suddenly. “I was told to fetch you. The Alpha was expecting you.”

“Expecting us?” my mother echoed, eyes narrowing. “How? We didn’t even know where we were going until we boarded.”

“Not all things are known through words,” Cassius replied, cryptic and maddening. “The Moonlight Pack has its ways.”

I frowned. “Why would a secret pack want anything to do with us?”

He tilted his head, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Because not all secrets are meant to stay hidden. Don’t worry, we are not fugitives or criminals.”

We drove for what felt like hours. The air grew cooler, the roads narrower. Then I saw it through the one small slit of a window near the roof, a glimpse of something sprawling and green.

The Forbidden City.

That’s what they called it, according to Cassius. A hidden region, shielded by magic and land both. Not governed by any of the known Alphas or their territories. No records. No bloodlines traced.

“The Moonlight Pack is the oldest pack,” Cassius said as we neared the edge. “We do not exist in your books because we choose not to. History favors the loud. We prefer to survive.”

I stared out the sliver of glass, catching sights of towering trees, deep winding roads, and buildings too old to belong to this century, but maintained with care. Almost sacred. It didn’t look like a prison.

But I couldn’t shake the dread coiling in my gut. Freedom shouldn’t feel this much like being swallowed.

We didn’t reach their main territory, though. Instead, the van turned into a long gravel path lined with blackthorn trees and stopped in front of an old, grand manor.

“Why aren’t we going to your main packhouse?” I asked as we stepped out.

Cassius adjusted his coat. “Because the Alpha prefers introductions in neutral spaces. And because what’s waiting for you… is better handled in private.”

That didn’t help the anxiety clawing up my spine.

The manor smelled like cedarwood, old parchment, and faint traces of magic. Wolves walked its halls, tall, silent, disciplined. Every one of them had the quiet strength of those who’d seen centuries pass.

They bowed slightly as we passed. Not out of deference. But acknowledgment. Like they already knew who I was.

It was unsettling.

The walls inside the manor were lined with portraits, not of people, but of forests. Wolves running. Moons in every phase.

Cassius led us to a set of heavy oak doors at the end of a long corridor. He stopped in front of them. His tone softened. “You’ll want to hold on to your mother.”

“What?” I asked, frowning.

But the moment I placed my hand on the door handle, something inside me snapped.

My knees buckled.

Pain. Burning. A strange heat spread from my chest down to my fingertips. I gasped, reaching out blindly, and my mother caught me, pulling me against her.

“Mireya?” she whispered, panic rising. “Is it—?”

The sensation was unmistakable. The same overwhelming pull I’d felt at the ball. The moment Marianne leaked the video and the crowd turned into vultures—I felt this very same thing.

A bond. A soul-level call.

A mate.

“No,” I breathed, eyes wide. But it was already too late.

The doors creaked open slowly, and I felt the weight of the world shift. And there he was.

Standing at the far end of the office, behind a large obsidian desk, backlit by the soft glow of moonlight pouring in through a stained-glass window.

He turned to us, and the breath caught in my throat.

He was young. Strikingly so. Tall and built like the forest carved him itself. His hair was white as snow, falling past his shoulders in soft waves. But it was his eyes that held me still, silver, piercing, ancient.

I didn’t know his name. I didn’t know what role he played here.

But I knew this: he was mine.

My mate.

And nothing in the world had prepared me for the storm that was coming next.