Chapter 7 The Messenger's Fate

• ​The obsidian doors groaned as they were forced open once more.
• ​A single warrior, clad in the silver and blue of the Silver Moon Pack, was shoved into the hall by two Lycan guards. He was disheveled, his breathing shallow and panicked. His name was Marcus—one of the guards who had laughed the loudest when Caine gave the order for Anna’s exile.
• ​Marcus stumbled to his knees, his eyes darting around the Great Hall. When they landed on the silver throne, he froze.
• ​He saw Silas, the Alpha King, radiating a darkness so thick it felt like the walls were closing in. But then his gaze shifted to the woman standing beside the throne.
• ​Anna.
• ​She was no longer the mud-streaked servant in the threadbare shirt. She was a vision of gold and fire, her eyes glowing with a terrifying, ancient intelligence.
• ​"A-Anna?" Marcus stammered, his voice cracking. "Is that really you?"
• ​"That is 'Your Majesty' to a common wolf," Silas growled, the sound vibrating through the floorboards and making Marcus’s teeth rattle.
• ​Anna stepped forward, the train of her silk gown whispering against the stone. She felt a strange detachment. Looking at Marcus didn't fill her with the usual fear; it filled her with a cold, clinical curiosity.
• ​"You carry a message from Caine," Anna said. Her voice was calm, but it held the weight of a mountain.
• ​Marcus swallowed hard, reaching into his tunic to pull out a sealed scroll. His hands were shaking so violently he nearly dropped it. "The Alpha... he demands your return. He says the rejection was a... a technical error of the Blood Moon. He claims you are his legal mate and the property of the Silver Moon Pack."
• ​A collective snarl erupted from the Lycan Elders. The air in the room grew heavy, the ozone scent of Silas’s power flaring like a lightning strike.
• ​"Property?" Anna repeated the word softly. She looked down at her hands—the same hands Marcus had seen scrub floors. "He sent me into the Forbidden Woods to die, Marcus. He told me I was more than I deserved when I begged for my life."
• ​"He... he has changed his mind!" Marcus cried, pressing his forehead to the cold stone. "He is sick, Anna! The pack is sick! Since you left, the warriors are falling in the fields. The crops are withering. Caine says you are the cause!"
• ​"I am not the cause," Anna said, her eyes flaring into rings of liquid gold. "I was the source. And when he threw me away, he threw away the sun that kept his world from freezing."
• ​She walked down the steps of the dais, stopping inches from the kneeling messenger.
• ​"Tell me, Marcus. When Elena threw that silver coin at me, did you laugh?"
• ​Marcus didn't answer. He couldn't. The pressure of her aura was beginning to crush the air from his lungs.
• ​"I remember your face," Anna continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You were the one who kicked the bucket of dirty water over my head last winter because you were 'bored.' Do you remember that?"
• ​"Please..." Marcus wheezed.
• ​Anna reached out, her fingers hovering just above Marcus’s shoulder. She didn't touch him, but a wisp of golden flame curled from her fingertips.
• ​The "Sun Flame."
• ​It wasn't hot like a normal fire; it was a pure, scouring energy. Marcus screamed as the flame jumped to his tunic, not burning the cloth, but searing the Silver Moon crest right off his chest. The silver thread melted into slag, leaving a blackened, empty space where his pack's honor had been.
• ​"You are no longer a messenger," Anna declared, her voice echoing through the hall. "You are a witness."
• ​She turned back to Silas, who was watching her with a look of predatory pride that made her heart skip a beat.
• ​"Silas, you said you had a gift for Caine?"
• ​Silas stood up, snapping his fingers. Two guards entered carrying a large, wooden crate. They set it down in front of Marcus and pried the lid open.
• ​Inside were the shredded, silver-threaded cloaks of the entire search party Caine had sent into the woods. They were blood-stained and scorched, but there were no bodies.
• ​"I didn't kill them, Anna," Silas said, his violet eyes locking onto hers. "I simply showed them what happens to those who trespass on the Queen’s territory. They are currently wandering the mountains, wolfless and broken. I have severed their connection to the Moon."
• ​The hall fell into a stunned silence. Severing a wolf’s connection to the moon was a power thought lost to the ages. It was a fate worse than death.
• ​"Put Marcus in the crate," Anna commanded.
• ​"What?" Marcus shrieked, struggling against the guards.
• ​"Not to kill you," Anna said, her golden eyes fixed on him. "But to ensure you arrive back at the Silver Moon gates by dawn. You will deliver this message to Caine: The girl he rejected is dead. The Queen he created is coming for his crown."
• ​She reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out the silver coin Elena had thrown at her in the woods. She dropped it onto Marcus’s lap.
• ​"Give him his change."
• ​The guards forced Marcus into the crate and hammered the lid shut.
• ​As the crate was hauled away, Anna felt a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her. The golden light in her eyes faded, and the weight of the throne seemed to double.
• ​Silas was at her side in an instant, his massive arm supporting her. "You did well, little star. The first strike is always the hardest."
• ​"He won't stop," Anna whispered, leaning into him. "Caine... he’s obsessive. He’ll burn his own pack down before he admits he’s lost."
• ​"Let him try," Silas growled, his hand tightening possessively on her waist. "I have spent a thousand years waiting for a reason to erase that bloodline. If he wants a war for the Sun, I will give him an eclipse he won't survive."
• ​Silas leaned down, his lips brushing the golden sigil on her collarbone. The touch sent a rush of warmth through her that pushed back the fatigue.
• ​"But for now, my Queen, you must rest. Tomorrow, your training begins. If you are to lead my armies, you must learn to wield the fire that currently lives in your blood."
• ​Anna looked at the obsidian doors, imagining Caine’s face when he opened that crate.
• ​She wasn't a slave anymore. She wasn't an Omega.
• ​She was the storm that was coming for the Silver Moon.