Chapter 1

Eight years ago, my brother poured Moonshade into my wine so the Heir Alpha could mark my sister at the bonding ceremony instead of me. I woke up tied to a rogue, broke his nose, and ran.

I'm a wreck ，mud on my cheek, eight feral pups tearing around my legs, jerky between my teeth.

"Little Wren —" Rowan's eyes go red. "You hated pups. You were going to be the first female Beta on the Lycan King's Council. What happened to you?"

I keep chewing. Bend down. Yank two muddy little cubs out of the puddle.

I whistle for the rest. Inside, pups.

"Wren — sweetie —" Serena steps in front of me, tears already brimming. "It was Rowan who talked Father and Mother into the Moonshade. It was Damien who switched us at the bonding ceremony."

Damien Blackthorn just stands there holding her hand. Calm. Waiting for me to scream.

Rowan's voice goes flat. "The rogue was ugly, sure. But he took Serena in when she was lost in the wild. Treated her decent. You only had it bad for a little while, Wren. Don't make a scene."

Eight years ago, Serena padded back to Silvercrest claiming to be the real Beta-blood. I shut her out at the territory line. That was my crime.

These eight years were the lesson.

"The rogue's dead now, Wren. We came to bring you home." Serena's eyes drop to the pups. Her nose wrinkles. "But these mongrels are filthy. Low-blood. We can't bring them. If they've been such a burden, let's just put them down."

My head snaps up.

Put them down?

The girl swinging from the rafter is the Grand Gamma's daughter. The brunette baring tiny milk-fangs is Alpha Harlan's pup. The two boys tossing bone dice are Lycan princes from the Ironvale Kingdom.

…

"You'll finally be free of them, Wren — aren't you happy?"

She dabs her eyes and beams. Her warriors fan out in a tight ring. Steel hisses out of every sheath.

I scoop the smallest pup against my chest. This one cannot get a scratch.

Alpha Calder's bloodline has whelped one heir every five generations. The whole Calder pack would burn this kingdom for her.

"What — you don't want them dead?" Damien's voice drops, Alpha Aura rolling off him in waves. "Wren Ashford. You really planning to drag eight stray mutts back into Silvercrest with you, into my wing of the pack house?"

I clamp a hand over Alpha Harlan's daughter's mouth fast.

Tiny demon's got the sharpest tongue in three packs.

"Are you embarrassed, Wren? Don't be. Damien doesn't mind that you've been touched by a rogue. He'll still take you into his wing when we get home."

Like she's offering me a Luna's crown. It's a leash.

"I'm not coming back."

They all freeze.

Rowan's lip curls. "Eight years and that's how you snarl at her? Forget every rule the Ashford pack ever drilled into you?"

I forgot more than the rules.

I forgot the snowy night Rowan walked Serena home with his arm around her, leaving me bleeding in the courtyard.

Forgot Serena grinding my mate token under her heel while Damien watched, unflinching.

Eight years is enough to bury all of it.

"Move, Wren. Don't tell me you got so attached to that rogue mutt you've been mourning him these eight years like a widow."

Damien smiles — cruel. Eyes dragging over the pups like vermin.

"They're not mine. You can't touch them. You can't afford to touch them."

A Heir Alpha. So what. The pups don't even glance at him.

"You'd disown your own litter to protect them?" Damien sneers. Fangs drop, claws extend mid-shift — and he lunges, claws driving straight at the smallest pup. "I can't afford to?"

My heart stops. I throw my arm out to block —

Rowan's hand cracks across my face so hard my wolf yelps inside my skull.

"I thought a rogue forced a litter into you! Now I see you rolled over for him willingly — you disgrace every wolf carrying the Ashford scent!"

Every pup in the clearing freezes.

Blood roars in my ears. One slow breath. My heart sinks like a stone.

"Damien. Breathe him in. Just one breath."

Little Eight wasn't fast enough. Blood drips down his arm into the dirt — and the second the iron tang hits the air, every wolf flinches at once.

Pure Lycan blood. Royal. Ancient.

He buries his face against my neck. I tug his collar back and bare his shoulder.

"No, look. Take a good look."

The crescent-and-fang birthmark of the Lycan bloodline burns silver against his skin. The mark only the Lycan King's direct kin carry.

Serena's eyes go round as moons.

But Damien's claws stay raised, fangs still bared. "The Lycan King has no nephew."

"You can't even scent pure Lycan blood when it's bleeding right in front of you?!" Harlan's daughter wrenches free, untrained Alpha aura crackling around her in a furious silver halo. "My father is Alpha Harlan! Lay a paw on us and my dad's whole pack will tear Silvercrest apart before sunrise!"

This time, Serena slaps her clean across the face.

The borderlands go silent. Even the wind dies.

Striking the daughter of an Alpha is a declaration of war.

Serena lifts her chin. Smiles.

"Are these all the little props you've prepared, Wren?"