Chapter 2

Arthur's chest heaved, veins bulging in his neck.

"Sera, how much longer are you going to torture me?"

"Elara and I are nothing. She's my brother's widow. That's it!"

He sounded so sincere. Like he actually believed what he was saying.

I shook my head. "You're overthinking it, Alpha. I mean every word."

Something I said set him off again.

He shoved me.

Hard.

My head cracked against the corner of a wooden chair. Pain exploded through my skull.

He looked panicked for half a second, reaching out like he wanted to help.

But the damage was done.

My pulse weakened. Breath came shallow.

I knew my body was shutting down.

The wolfsbane. The blade. The blow to my skull.

My human body couldn't survive all three.

I knew that now. I had maybe twenty-four hours left.

I pushed Arthur's hand away and staggered to my feet.

"Leave, Alpha. I'm tired."

I turned toward my bedroom.

As I walked, blood dripped from beneath my skirt, leaving a dark trail across the floor.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

Leo—seven years old—charged in and hurled his toy at me.

It struck my cheek. I felt the sting, the warmth of blood.

Arthur froze for a moment, then grabbed Leo by the scruff of his neck and swatted him.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Leo wailed, but he didn't apologize.

"I don't want her as my mother!"

"Why can't she just stay locked up in the Dungeon forever?!"

Arthur's face went rigid. "Who taught you to say that?"

Leo squirmed free, his little face red with indignation.

"You did! You said you hated her!"

"You said if she hadn't saved you that day in the mountains, you never would've mated a lowborn herbalist!"

"And she's always so mean to Aunt Elara! She doesn't deserve to be Luna!"

He pointed a chubby finger at me, his face twisted with childish hatred.

"Bad mother! Father and I both hate you! Just disappear already!"

Out of the mouths of pups.

Every word was a blade, shredding what little hope I had left.

Years ago, Arthur was ambushed during a border skirmish. I was seven months pregnant, but I rode out anyway with a small cavalry to rescue him.

We won. Barely.

I took over a dozen wounds. The trauma triggered early labor.

I was dying on that blood-soaked bed when Arthur gripped my hand, tears streaming down his face.

"Sera, don't leave me."

"If you die, I'll follow you. I swear it."

So I fought. I survived.

But Leo was born too early. The Pack physician said he'd die within three days.

I refused to believe it.

I stayed awake for weeks, researching every remedy, every obscure herb.

Leo's cries grew weaker and weaker.

Desperate, I made a pilgrimage to the Moon Temple.

Barefoot through the snow.

Every three steps, I knelt and bowed. Every five steps, I prayed.

My knees bled. My feet went numb.

Blood stained the stone path all the way to the top.

I don’t know if my sincerity moved the Moon Goddess.

But in the end, Leo survived.

But his body remained fragile.

When winter came, I kept him indoors. Made him rest. Watched what he ate.

Elara let him run wild in the snow. Fed him frozen meat and sweets.

Days later, he'd collapse. Weak. Shivering. Too sick to shift.

Arthur was always away on Pack business. Elara avoided him, terrified of getting sick herself.

I was the one who sat with him. Nursed him back to health.

When he recovered, he hated me for it.

Blamed me for keeping him locked up. For the bitter tonics. For the rules.

But Elara? She was the fun one. The one who gave him treats and freedom.

She was the one he loved.