< Seraphina's P.O.V. >
The meadow behind the temple had always been my sanctuary.
It's hidden just enough behind the grove of moon-willows that no one from the inner courts bothers to wander there. The grass grows tall and thick, dotted with little wildflowers that sway like they're dancing to my humming. Birds perch high in the trees, watching over me like little sentinels. And the wolf cubs-gods, my sweet cubs-were my joy. My comfort. My safest loves.
There were six of them, all born during the last full moon, beneath the glowing eye of my divine father. I had found their mother howling in labor, half-wild with pain, and stayed beside her the whole night. When the pups emerged, slick and shivering, she licked them clean and then died with her muzzle in my lap. I buried her under the roots of the moon-willow tree and swore to raise her children as my own.
That was four months ago.
Now they were all teeth and fluff and chaos. Nox, the black one with the silver crescent on his brow, was my favorite-not that I'd ever tell the others. He was the boldest, always the first to climb into my lap, the first to nip at my fingers when I scolded him. He followed me like a shadow. Like a brother.
"Stop that..", I giggled as he lunged for my braid again, tugging hard enough to make my head tilt. "You, little beast."
I pulled him into my arms, hugging him close to my chest. His tiny tail wagged against my stomach as he licked my cheek. His fur was warm from the sun. His heartbeat quick, strong.
The others wrestled in the grass nearby, tumbling over each other, yipping and snarling and squealing. One of them sneezed and looked confused about it.
Here, in this little patch of untamed earth, I was allowed to forget who I was supposed to be. No polished floors. No hollow smiles. No whispered judgments about my scar, or my bloodline, or the way I still knelt by the altar longer than any daughter of nobility should.
Here, I was just Sera.
Until I heard the branch snap.
I knew the sound of his boots before I even turned. Heavy. Sharp. Calculated. A predator who never needed to run-because everything ran from him.
"Seraphina."
I froze, and the cubs did too. The breeze stilled, as if the entire meadow was holding its breath.
I turned to face him.
Rowan Vortem. Alpha of the Crescent Fang. The man I was betrothed to.
He looked every inch the warrior-the silver of his armor gleaming in the light, his cape trailing like blood behind him. His golden hair was tied back, not a strand out of place, and his eyes... his eyes were emerald daggers, honed and hard.
He didn't look pleased.
"What are you doing?", he asked coldly. "Rolling in the mud with wild pests?"
My lips parted, but I didn't know how to respond. The warmth in my chest flickered out like a dying flame.
"They're not pests..", I said finally. "They're companions. My companions."
Rowan's gaze swept across the cubs like they were nothing more than flies.
"You're the Beta's daughter.", he snapped. "Blessed by the God of Wolves himself. You carry divine blood. You ought to act like it."
I stood, brushing dirt from my knees. My dress was stained green, and my hair, probably a mess-but I hadn't cared before. Now, under his gaze, I did.
"I'll do better..", I said quickly. "Once we're bonded... I'll carry myself with more dignity. I swear."
I forced a smile, the kind I practiced in the mirror when my mother reminded me how a Luna must smile-demure, sweet, submissive.
I stepped toward him. "You'll be proud of me."
He didn't return my smile. Instead, he reached for me, his hand curling around my waist, tugging me into him so fast I stumbled.
He was close. Too close.
His scent was iron and ash. His hand splayed against my back, holding me still. My heart stuttered.
"I–Rowan–", I whispered, pressing lightly against his chest. "We should wait... until after we're married."
His jaw clenched.
"You're mine already, Seraphina."
My skin prickled. I hated the way his fingers dug into my side, the way he looked at me like a prize instead of a person. I tried to stay calm.
"I know. But... it's not proper yet. I want it to be sacred. Right."
He exhaled through his nose, as if he were holding something back.
"It'll be too long..", he murmured, lips brushing my ear. "I won't be able to hold back forever."
My stomach twisted. My breath went shallow.
"But...", he added, softer, "...for you, I'll try."
That was supposed to be romantic. Wasn't it?
I nodded, swallowing my unease. "Thank you..", I said. "You're good to me."
I kissed his cheek, a chaste, little flutter of lips, and prayed the moment would pass.
He released me without a word, turned, and walked back into the trees. The cubs didn't follow. They just watched me, ears flat. Nox whimpered.
********************************************
That night, long after the temple bells had sung their final chant and the Lykae Mansion grew silent under the silver gaze of the moon, I sat at my window brushing my hair. The strands fell like shadows across my shoulders, and with each stroke, I tried to soothe the storm in my chest. The stars blinked above the woods like the eyes of sleeping gods, distant and cold.
I thought of Rowan—his rough voice still ringing in my ears, the way his hand had clamped my waist like he owned every breath I took. I shivered despite the summer air. My fingers paused mid-stroke. Was this what it meant to be promised to someone? To feel weighed down by their desire? Was I foolish for thinking love would feel like flight instead of chains?
Then—tap, tap, tap.
The sound startled me. I blinked, leaned forward. A shadow moved at the edge of the windowsill. A raven.
Not just any bird—this one bore the red ribbon of the Crescent Fang tied around its leg. The official mark of the warrior elite, and Rowan's signature token. My breath caught.
The bird tilted its head, eyes gleaming like ink in the moonlight. It held perfectly still as I untied the scroll from its leg, my hands trembling. It fluttered once, then took off into the sky like a secret loosed into the night.
I unfolded the parchment, my fingers sweaty against the coarse fibers. The writing was rushed, but unmistakably his.
Come to Hollow Gorge at moon's rise.
I want to be alone with you. Away from the elders. From judgment.
I need you, Seraphina.
—R.
My eyes didn't move from the note for a long time. Hollow Gorge.
The name itself stirred every instinct in me to run. I'd heard whispers since I was a child—of duels fought to the death, of bones littering the rocky ground, of blood soaking into stone. No maiden was ever permitted there. No Luna-to-be was ever summoned there.
Why there?
My heart thudded wildly. "Alone.", he wrote. In a place where even warriors tread carefully. Did he mean to test me? Tempt me? Or was this his idea of intimacy, of proving something to the world—to himself?
I set the note down, breathing hard. The edges trembled. No one had ever asked this of me. Not even my divine father. Not my mentors. Rowan was trying to pull me into his world—a world that wasn't gentle, wasn't sacred, but carnal and cold.
I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. Was it fear? Or guilt? Would he be angry if I didn't come? Would he say I betrayed him?
He needs me, I reminded myself, the words heavy and strange. He chose me.
Still, doubt laced through my bones like poison.
I rose and walked to the mirror, staring at my own face as if I were a stranger. The softness in my eyes, the curve of my lips, the glow of my skin under moonlight—people said I was beautiful. Too beautiful. But tonight, I wondered if my beauty had become a curse.
My reflection offered no answers.
And yet, I turned away from it, folded the note gently, and pressed it to my chest.
"I'll go," I whispered, though no one was there to hear it. "For him. Just once more."
Outside, the wind howled low through the trees like an ancient warning.
********************************************
< Narrator's P.O.V. >
Far from the soft lullaby and the warmth of Seraphina's her mansion, the Hollow Gorge breathed a different song—one of blood and bone.
The cliffs towered like jagged fangs, etched with the scars of ancient duels. Shadows danced wildly along the stone walls, cast by the flickering torches embedded in the ground. Smoke curled through the cold night air from open bonfires where warriors drank from silver flasks and sharpened their blades. There were no rules here—only instincts, power, and pride.
It was a place of whispers and wildness, where the moon was feared rather than revered.
And in its deepest crevice, half-shrouded in smoke and laughter, Rowan lounged like a king.
The Alpha-in-waiting leaned back on a stone slab shaped like a throne, carved centuries ago by the founding pack. His arms were draped over two she-wolves—warrior maidens from northern clans, their dresses slit high to show supple legs, their mouths painted in crimson smiles. They clung to him, fawning over his strength, whispering promises in his ear, fingers tracing the scars on his chest with something between admiration and desire.
Rowan laughed low in his throat, tipping his flask to his lips. "Tell me again...", he said to the darker-haired one as she kissed the skin just below his ear. "Which part of me you dream about when you sleep alone?"
"Your fangs~", she purred, giggling. "And what they'd feel like… biting."
A bark of laughter escaped him. "You're not the only one."
"Rowan.", a sharp voice cut through the haze. "Really?"
He didn't turn. He didn't need to. Only one man had the gall to speak to him like that in this place—Caelen, his second-in-command since they were pups, and his best friend.
Caelen crossed his arms, brows furrowed as he looked at the two women draped around Rowan like velvet robes. "You're getting married in three moons' time. Why are you still acting like some drunken cub in his debauchery phase?"
Rowan finally turned his head, grinning as he raised the flask. "Because, my friend, alpha men are the superior breed. You know this. Our instincts are different. Stronger. Wilder. A few mistresses are not only expected—they're a tradition."
The blonde to his right giggled again, licking her lips. "Your traditions are so... entertaining."
Caelen's jaw tightened. "And what about Seraphina?"
Rowan blinked lazily, as if the name were unfamiliar. "What about her?"
"She's your betrothed.", Caelen snapped. "Your Luna-to-be. The daughter of a Beta, blessed by the god of wolves himself. Don't you think she deserves a little more than... this circus?"
Rowan's smile slowly turned cruel. He tossed aside the empty flask and stood, letting the girls cling to his arms as he stretched like a satisfied predator.
"She's a beauty.", he said at last. "Innocent, untouched. And tonight…". He licked his lips slowly, his eyes gleaming with desire, "...she gets to taste her future Alpha."
Caelen's face paled. "You summoned her here?"
Rowan shrugged. "She should learn what it means to belong to someone like me. And once I get a taste of that heavenly little body…". His voice dropped to a murmur as he leaned in toward the blonde again. "She'll beg to be my number one. My personal toy. She's mine by law, by blood, and soon—by body."
The blonde whimpered softly as he kissed her neck. The darker-haired girl laughed, fingers tugging at the laces of his tunic.
But Caelen? He took a step back.
His heart twisted in his chest as he looked at the man he once followed into battle, the friend he once trusted with his life.
Seraphina, he thought. The girl who sings to cubs and talks to the moon like it's her father's face.
He turned away, disgust roiling in his gut.
"She has a poor fate.", he muttered under his breath, too quiet for Rowan to hear. "To be given to a bastard like you."
-------
End of Chapter One.
To be continued...