Chapter 7
Kael’s POV
Guilt clawed at Kael’s insides as he stared at the glowing rune stone in his palm. The swirling message from Lunara glowed softly in her golden script: Don’t forget our Luna–Union Festival today.
His heart sank. He had forgotten. Their Luna–Union anniversary celebration–one that the entire Moonveil Pack would attend–was today. He hadn’t prepared anything. No offering. No gift. Not even a damn flower for his mate.
A warm tongue licked his jaw, dragging him out of his spiraling thoughts.
Ashira, curled beside him in the moss–laden nest of the private grove they’d claimed for their secret retreat, nuzzled against his throat.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” she murmured, voice still husky from their tangled night. “Nothing important,” he replied, dropping the rune stone into his satchel and pulling her close again.
The ancient grove was hidden by thick warding spells and shielded from pack patrols. He and Ashira still had a few hours before they’d need to head back. He could swing by the merchant stalls in Hollowfang Valley and grab something glittery for Lunara. It would be fine. He’d smooth it over–he always did.
There was no reason to panic. He was the Alpha. He was in control.Kael exhaled deeply, threading his fingers through Ashira’s hair.
But an hour later, a flurry of sharp rune alerts buzzed against his thigh.
First one. Then another. Then a flood.
And then the howls began–urgent, echoing through the territory like a storm.
He sat up, tension coiling in his chest. His rune stone vibrated violently. A name blinked across the screen: Lucas.
Kael answered with a growl. “What is it?”
“Turn on the damn scrying mirror,” Lucas barked. “Now. It’s bad, Kael. Really bad.”
Kael frowned and leapt from the grove nest. He threw on his cloak and rushed to the crystal–fed scrying orb mounted inside the alcove nearby. His claws trembled as he activated the rune.
The image flickered, then solidified. And his entire world shattered.A still frame filled the mirror.Him.Ashira.Locked in a heated kiss beneath the moonlight, her robes tangled around her waist, his hand pressed to her bare thigh. And above the image, in fiery red glyphs: “MOONVEIL BETRAYED: Alpha Kael Thorne in Forbidden Bond with Luna’s Sister.” Kael stumbled back, nearly tripping over a root. His breath left him in a harsh exhale.
“No… no, no, no!” he muttered, clutching his head.
Ashira emerged behind him, now fully dressed, brushing leaves from her sleeves. “What is it?” He pointed. She followed his gaze–and paled.
He Chose My Sister. So I Became A Rogue Queen.
4:37 am CDDD.
Her lips parted, “Oh spirits. My husband… Killian will see this.”
Kael’s pulse roared, “Lucas,” he growled into the rune stone. “Scrub it. Every channel, every tether, Bury it”
“I already tried,” Lucas replied grimly. “The entire Council’s scrying grid picked it up. It’s viral Rich. There’s no stopping it.”
“No!”
His hands shook as he tried to call Lunara. The link rang once–then cut off. He tried again. Blocked.He tried through their mate bond–emptiness,
“She blocked me, he whispered,
Ashira was panicking now, too. “Killian’s blocked my mind–link. He knows! Kael, we have to do something!”
But Kael was already backing away. Already running. He didn’t speak. Didn’t look at her.
He shifted mid–step, fur tearing through skin as his wolf burst forth in a blaze of black and silver. He bolted from the grove, howling past trees and darting through packlands, leaving Ashira’s cries behind.
He had to get home. Had to explain.Had to fix this. Wind tore through his fur. His paws barely touched the forest floor. He pushed harder, faster, driven by desperation.
He’d always taken Lunara for granted. Thought she’d never leave. She had no one else. Nc
escape.
But now–now that he’d felt that terrifying hollowness of her absence, he realized something he never wanted to admit.
He needed her More than he’d ever needed anything. Please, Moon Goddess… let her forgive me.
He reached the edge of their den and shifted back into his human form, not even waiting for the cloak enchantment to settle.
“Lunara!” he shouted as he burst through the door.
Silence. The den was cold. Lifeless.
On the central stone table sat a single envelope. Elegant. Clean. With his name in Lunara’s perfect script.
He picked it up with trembling hands.
Inside: Mate Severance scrolls. Signed, Sealed. Official. And beneath them, a short handwritten
note:
Beside it, a stack of crystal–printed images–more damning than the one on the scrying mirror.
Pictures of him and Ashira in the grove. The private moments he thought no one saw.
A strangled noise escaped his throat. His knees buckled.
“Lunara…”
His voice cracked, echoing through the empty den. But she was already gone.
