Chapter 2

"Why not?" he asked.

I stood up and said I was tired and needed to rest. I turned toward the bed.

Valerius stepped in front of me and blocked my path.

"Get changed. The Gathering doesn't end for another half hour. We're going now."

I looked at him and thought of all the times I had simply turned around and done whatever he said.

He was already reaching for my cloak. Before I could say another word, he had it around my shoulders and was steering me out the door.

An hour later we were on the river road heading home, the Gathering behind us.

He spent the return ride reviewing a sealed dispatch by lamplight. I watched the dark trees pass outside the window.

Then the horses screamed. Rogues hit the carriage from both sides, half-shifted and fast.

The frame lurched violently. I grabbed the door frame and held on.

I saw Valerius shift into his wolf form, straight to the strongbox bolted beneath the seat, the one holding the territorial defense maps.

He wrapped both arms around it and drove his shoulder through the carriage roof.

The door buckled. I went with it.

When I came to, I was in the mud at the edge of the road.

Valerius stood nearby, strongbox secure under his arm, scanning the tree line. Unharmed.

He had not looked for me once.

I got up, checked my limbs, and walked to the nearest pack clinic.

The healer was cleaning my wound when Valerius told me through the mind link that urgent Council matters required his return to the palace.

I was used to this. Then she said, "A letter arrived for you from a messenger-wolf just now. I left it on the pillow."

I broke the seal with one hand. It was from the Moonshadow Enclave.

Exceptional aptitude. Accepted unconditionally. Report at your earliest convenience.

My fingers began to tremble and my tears fell onto the parchment.

I folded the letter and pressed it against my chest.

All I needed now was to reject him. Then I could leave.

In the days that followed, I stayed alone in the pack clinic.

The healers on duty would chat among themselves during quiet hours.

About the she-wolf in the next room whose mate hadn't left her bedside once.

About a warrior who had crossed half the territory just to find a rare herb for his mate's recovery.

I listened in silence. My leg was heavy with injury, but my heart felt strangely light.

The day I was discharged, I walked out on a crutch and went straight to the market district.

I bought what I needed for the journey to the Moonshadow Enclave.

It was midday when I finished. I stepped into a nearby tavern and had barely found a seat when the door opened and Valerius walked in.

He was not alone.

The woman beside him was Isolde, the pack's only female Gamma and Lead Strategist.

She her hair pinned high, and when she smiled her eyes caught the light in a way that made the whole room notice her.

Something pricked at my chest.

Isolde. In my first life, that name had haunted me like a curse.

Many she-wolves admired Valerius, but he kept everyone at a distance. His eyes were always on the pack business, nothing else.

Isolde was clever enough to know that. She never spoke of feelings. She only ever spoke of strategy.

"Alpha, I believe this defensive formation has a flaw worth addressing..."

"Alpha, I'd like to go over the border map with you one more time..."

"Alpha, would you look over this report before I submit it to the Council..."

Under the cover of pack duty, she positioned herself beside him naturally, sharing his table, his late nights, his attention.

In my first life, the hours Isolde spent with Valerius, even the exchange of a glance, all of it far outnumbered anything I had ever shared with my own mate.

In the past, seeing this would have stolen my appetite entirely.

Now I simply turned back to the menu in my hands, calm and unbothered.

Then Isolde's sharp eyes swept the room and landed on me.

"Is that... the Luna?"