Ronan didn’t know how long he sat there beneath the ancient hollow tree, the weight of shame pressing against his chest like a boulder. His fingers dug into the mossy earth. The image from the scrying mirror was burned into his mind. Every pack member had likely seen it by now–his betrayal laid bare to the entire Moonveil territory.
Then suddenly, a spark lit in his mind. Lunara loved him. She still did. She had sent him that rune message with hope in her heart. He could fix this. He just needed to find her–talk to her, claim her again.
He scrambled upright, reaching for the runestone in his satchel and activating the comm–link rune for Lucas.
“Lucas,” he growled, his voice hard and urgent, “Find her. I don’t care how. Send out the Whisperfang trackers, contact the Oracle Seers, interrogate the air wardens if you have to. Use every means we’ve got. I want my mate found. Now”
There was a pause on the other end of the rune call. “Who are we tracking? Lady Ashira?” Lucas asked uncertainly
Ronan snarled, his fangs extending involuntarily. “No! Lunara! The Luna! My bonded mate!”
Another pause. This one longer. “But… I thought you said we needed her out of the way,” Lucas murmured, voice cautious. “That Ashira was going to be your new Luna.”
Ronan’s heart pounded. The conversations from days past clawed at his memory–his cocky words, his dangerous plans, how he’d considered unseating Lunara to crown Ashira, Spirits, what
had he done?
“Don’t be dense, Lucas!” he barked. “Lunara is divorcing me! Do you understand what that means? If she challenges me formally before the Elders, we’ll lose everything–our power, our standing in the High Circle, the entire Thorne bloodline’s legacy. Father will exile me.”
He tightened his grip on the rune. “Just find her.”
“Understood, Alpha,” Lucas replied,
Ronan cut the link and activated several more runes, sending messages to old allies, shadow scouts, and loyal enforcers across the territory. With enough goldleaf tokens and influence, he could make the moons bend to his will.
He was on his fourth contact when the warded door to his den burst open, and Ashira staggered in. Her wild, golden hair was tangled by wind, her face pale with panic. In her clawed hands, she clutched a torn scroll marked with crimson wax.
“Ronan!” she cried. “He dissolved the bond! Killian unbound me!”
“What?” Ronan blinked at her.
Ashira shoved the scroll into his hands. “He stripped the soul–tie, scattered our joined auras, and evicted me from our estate! The den is sealed with a ward I can’t enter! All of my belongings- my robes, my amulets, even my moonstone jewelry–gone!”
Ronan’s eyes scanned the parchment. The Severance Glyphs shimmered in finality. She wasn‘ lying. Killian had completely severed the mate bond. No rite of mediation. No trial before the
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Elders. It was done.
Tears pooled in Ashira’s eyes. “I’m with cub, Ronan. He didn’t even ask. Just… erased me.”
Ronan’s thoughts twisted violently. This was exactly what Lunara had done to him–quiet, ruthless, no confrontation. Just vanishing. Leaving only the scent of lavender and finality behind. When had she even spoken to Killian? Had they planned this together?
His comm–stone buzzed again.Lucas.
Ronan snatched it up. “Tell me you’ve found her.”
Lucas’s voice came through low and shaken. “You need to see this. Turn on the Oracle Mirror.
Channel 7. Now.”
A pit formed in Ronan’s gut. The last time Lucas sounded like this, the scandal had broken. He activated the scrying mirror with trembling fingers. The image sharpened.
Killian, Alpha of the Silvermaw, stood before a cluster of press druids. His arm was wrapped protectively around Lunara. She smiled at him–truly smiled–and leaned in to kiss his cheek as camera stones flashed around them.
“Silvermaw Alpha Breaks Bond with Ashira and Claims New Mate–Lunara Thorne, Former Luna
of Moonveil” the scroll beneath the image read.
Ashira let out a shriek beside him. “Engagement?! That snake! She stole my husband!”
Ronan stared at the image, dumbfounded. Killian and Lunara? They barely exchanged more than a few words at tribal councils. When did this happen?
Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips.
“She’s bluffing,” he said confidently. “She’s trying to get my attention. It’s retaliation. Jealousy.”
Ashira looked at him like he was mad. “You think that’s fake? You think Killian–Killian!-would
fake this?”
“They’re both playing us. Don’t you see? They’re trying to hurt us. It’s working.” Ronan touched her waist gently. “But we can turn this around. We just need to go after them. Show them they don’t control the board.”
“You’re serious?” Ashira blinked.
“Deadly. We go to Silvermaw lands. We confront them, make them see this isn’t over. And when we get them back…”
He trailed off, brushing his fingers against her cheek.
“What happens to us, then?” she asked softly. “Are we done?”
Ronan gave her a smooth smile. “You and I? Never done. But we’ll keep it quiet for now. Let things cool.”
Ashira nodded slowly. “Then let’s go to Silvermaw.”
Ronan’s comm–stone buzzed one last time. He groaned, picking it up. His father’s sigil burned into the rune.
He grimaced and accepted the call. “Father.”
“You disgrace the Thorne name,” came Silas’s cold voice.
Ronan flinched. “I-”
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“Silence!” Silas snapped. “The Elders are watching. The alliance treaties are fraying. Our name is being smeared across every Highpack ledger! And all because of your dalliances with a she–wolf who couldn’t keep her legs closed!”
“Leave Ashira out of this,” Ronan hissed. “She’s carrying a Thorne heir.”
“You utter fool,” Silas growled. “Fix this. Win Lunara back. Or I will strip you of your Alpha title myself.”
The link went dead.Ronan clenched his jaw, fury and desperation swirling in his gut. He would fix
this.
He would get Lunara back. At least until he could take full control of the Moonveil Pack–and make everyone forget he ever stumbled.
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Lunara’s POV
