“Hear me, Nightfang wolves! I am Selene Stormfang—Damien’s bonded mate. Under the Blood Moon, I bore him a daughter. He swore me Luna before the sacred grove, before the Elders, before the Moon herself. And then he left us to rot in the snow!”
Balconies filled with faces. Whispers buzzed through the streets.
“Isn’t she the one who vanished five years ago?”
“She’s a rogue now. She lies.”
“But look at the child... her eyes. She has his eyes.”
I reached into my cloak and pulled out the parchment—stained but intact. “This is the blood-oath. Signed and sealed by his own hand. If he denies me, let the Elders bear witness. I will summon judgment under the Elder Moon!”
The guards hesitated, eyes flicking to the parchment. The Nightfang seal shimmered faintly beneath the cracked wax.
One turned. “Wait here.”
Moments later, the great doors opened.
Damien stood tall in his ceremonial cloak, his shoulders draped in furs. Power clung to him like armor. And beside him, Elara—gilded in silver and silk, her Luna mark gleaming on her brow like a stolen crown.
I met his eyes.
He blinked. Recognition flickered.
“Look up,” he said, voice low.
I did. My lip curled into something between a smile and a snarl.