Chapter 3

• Darius POV
• The Luna Moon Gathering always reeked of pretense—wolves pretending peace, pretending they didn’t want to rip each other apart.
• I stood with Nightfang on the far edge of the clearing, where the firelight hit the mud and died. Kaelen was on my left, bored as usual, spinning a dagger between his fingers while the drums thundered.
• “Feels like a damn festival,” he muttered. “Half these packs would murder each other tomorrow.”
• “They will,” I said.
• He smirked. “You say that every year.”
• Because it was true every year. I didn’t come here for celebration. I came because the Elders required it and because showing up reminded the others that Nightfang still ruled the Outskirts.
• Vorren was restless in the back of my mind, pacing like a caged thing. She’s close.
• Don’t start. I’d lived with that voice for nine years—nine years of feeling a bond no one else could sense. I’d buried it under discipline and command.
• The drumming changed, slower, heavier. The crowd shifted. The young Lunas filed toward the main fire, all nervous smiles and white robes. And then I saw her.
• She stepped into the light beside a blonde girl, head high despite the noise, hair brown with that single white streak that caught the fire. The same streak I’d seen years ago, tangled in blood and smoke.
• My chest tightened.
• Vorren’s growl rolled through me. Mate.
• It wasn’t new. He’d whispered that word nine years ago, when she was a child. I’d spent every day since pretending it wasn’t real.
• But tonight… the bond snapped awake. I felt it like a punch under the ribs—her scent slamming into me, sweet and wild, no longer the faint trace of a child but the full heat of a woman grown.
• Mate, Vorren repeated, louder this time, a roar shaking through my head. Finally.
• Quiet. I locked my jaw and forced my hands to stay loose at my sides.
• Across the clearing, Kaelen noticed my shift in stance. “What?” he asked.
• “Nothing.”
• The fire surged higher. The Elders began the chant, spreading silver dust across the girls’ palms. I couldn’t look away. She tilted her face toward the moon, eyes half closed, lips moving with the words. The air changed around her; it crackled.
• Light bled under her skin—thin silver lines racing up her arms. The crowd gasped. Some took a step back. A few whispered “witch” under their breath.
• She didn’t notice. She stood there glowing like moonlight had chosen her alone.
• Kaelen muttered, “That’s new. You seeing this?”
• “I see it.”
• “You think she’s—”
• “She’s nothing you need to worry about.” My voice came out too flat, too controlled. He didn’t push.
• Vorren’s presence pressed harder. Look at her.
• I already was. Every curve, every inch of her screamed danger. The little girl I’d once spared was gone; this woman was a challenge carved in flesh.
• When her head turned toward me, the noise vanished. Drums, chants, wolves—all gone. Just her eyes locking on mine across the fire. Silver, bright, angry, and for the briefest moment, confused.
• She’d felt it. The bond.
• Vorren rumbled, satisfied. She knows.
• I kept my expression still, the way I’d learned to in battle. But inside, everything twisted. For nine years I’d carried this alone, kept my distance, convinced myself she’d never feel it. Now the gods had a cruel sense of humor.
• Kaelen nudged me again. “Why’s the Silverstrike girl staring at you like that?”
• I didn’t answer.
• When the chant ended, the cheering started. The girls were surrounded by family, the air thick with joy and tears. She didn’t move, though. She was still staring at me, that silver light fading beneath her skin.
• I could almost hear what she was thinking—the same disbelief I’d had years ago. The same hatred.
• She’ll tell him, Vorren warned. Her brother will know.
• Let him. My gaze slid to Ronan Silverstrike standing a few yards from her, his hand on her shoulder, protective and blind. If he knew what I was thinking, he’d rip his own throat out before letting me near her.
• But he didn’t know. Not yet.
• The crowd began to break apart. Kaelen leaned close. “Whatever that was, boss, you might want to—”
• “Drop it.”
• He shrugged, slipping back toward the pack.
• I stayed a moment longer, watching her laugh at something her friend said, though her smile didn’t reach her eyes. When she glanced back at me again, I let her see nothing—no anger, no shock, just the recognition I couldn’t hide.
• She’d looked like sin standing in that light, and I knew then I was finished.
• Vorren’s voice dropped to a low growl that felt more like a promise. Nine years. No more waiting.
• I turned away from the fire before anyone else could see what was written all over my face.