Chapter 7
When Beta Gordon and the Elders stormed into Alpha Raymond’s chambers, they froze at the sight before them,
The great Alpha of Shadowmoon Pack- bloodthirsty, feared across the territories- was sitting at my bedside, gently brushing my scorched hair.
I had thought that when the Moon Goddess sent her storm and rain, my spirit would finally ascend into her embrace.
But the skies only lightened… and the gates to peace never opened.
My soul was trapped, tethered to my burned, broken body–dragged back here, to this room, cradled in the arms of the same man
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who had destroyed me.
“Shhh…”
Raymond turned toward the intruders, placing a finger against his lips. His voice was low, chilling, a predator’s warning rumble.
“Quiet. Grace is sleeping.”
No flicker of emotion crossed his face. Yet
the menace in his tone made even the oldest wolves in the room shudder.
Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until Gordon finally spoke, his voice tight with fear.
“Alpha… the territory is collapsing. The Red Moon Pack has crossed the southern borders. Our water source is fouled with
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plague. The northern forests are empty–no prey left to hunt…”
The others shouted over one another, desperation breaking their ranks.
“You killed our Luna and Amos!”
“The Moon Goddess curses us because of you!”
“You must face your pack, Alpha, before we all perish!”
“Enough!”
Raymond roared, sweeping an arm across the table, sending maps and goblets clattering to the floor.
The room went deathly still.
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Then, without another word to them, he turned back to me.
And what he did next made even my restless spirit pause.
He bent low, carefully smoothing the filthy, scorched strands of my hair–as if I were made of glass, as if he feared I might shatter.
But I already had.
Decades of battle scars marred my skin- wounds that I had survived only because the Moon Goddess had granted me unnatural healing. I had carried those injuries with pride, proof of the blood I’d spilled protecting Shadowmoon Pack.
Now, in death, every old injury had returned, raw and vicious, painted across my lifeless flesh.
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Raymond’s rough hands trembled as they combed through the brittle ends of my hair, singed and curled from flame.
“This,” he murmured, voice hollow, “this was three years ago… when you charged into the blaze the Howling Moon Pack set. You burned yourself to save our lands.”
He took my ruined hand, pale and swollen, fingernails gone from water and fire.
“This was five years ago,” he whispered, pressing a reverent kiss to my knuckles. “Cleaning the poisoned river… the piranhas. tore you apart.”
His words tumbled faster, more frenzied, recounting wound after wound, every reckless act, every scar.
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Memories even I had forgotten… he remembered them all.
From where I hovered in shadow, my spirit let out a cold, humorless laugh.
For the first time, I was glad the gates to the Moon Goddess’s realm had not opened.
Because if the only reason I lingered here… was some twisted remnant of love for this
man…
That would be the vilest joke of all.
But if not for him… then why was I still here?
In the living world, Raymond’s voice suddenly turned sharp, lashing like a whip.
“All of you!” he snarled, his Alpha command shaking the walls. “You fed from Grace’s
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blood and sweat for decades! Which one of you didn’t profit from her sacrifices? You dare blame me for her death–yet it was your howling, day after day, that forced me to strip her command over our warriors! It was you complaining of scarce resources that sent her out again and again into danger!”
“Enough!”
Gamma Byron’s voice cut like a blade through the tension, his temper erupting as he stepped forward, fangs bared.
“And who,” he growled, “forced you to murder your own pup?”
“Who carved those scars across Luna’s face?” He jabbed a claw toward me. “Who stabbed that gaping hole into her belly? None of us, Alpha. That was you.
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Your brutality. Your blindness. Your trust in that whore Charlotte.
You shattered the bond with the Moon Goddess herself.
You killed your Luna.
And now, you’ve damned us all to the Goddess’s wrath.”
The chamber shook with his words.
Raymond said nothing.
His hands froze on my hair, his haunted gaze locked on the jagged scar slashing across my cheek.
I saw it too, that night long ago–the day of our mate ceremony, my face veiled in crimson silk, my cheeks flushed with joy. I
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had looked at him with stars in my eyes and called him, my Alpha.
He looked at the ragged wound carved through my abdomen and remembered the day I had placed his hand on my growing belly, telling him I wanted a son strong and fierce like him–a pup who would make every rival pack bow before Shadowmoon.
And in that moment, I saw it dawn in his tortured eyes.
He had been wrong.
Deadly wrong.
Raymond began to laugh.
A broken, hollow, blood–tinged sound that clawed up from his chest like madness.
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“My mistake,” he said hoarsely, rising to his full towering height. “No need to remind me. I will answer to the Moon Goddess. I will face the pack.
But first…
His voice dropped to a lethal growl, Alpha power shaking the glass in the windows.
“I will slit Charlotte’s throat myself.”
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