LUNA'S POV
"They're coming for the True Luna."
The words hang in the air like a death sentence, but I keep my smile fixed in place. Let them come. Let them all come. I've survived worse than rogue wolves with a grudge.
I've survived Kieran Blackwood.
"Luna, we need to leave. Now." Dante's hand tightens on my waist, his Alpha instincts kicking into protective overdrive.
"No." I don't move. "Running makes me look weak. I didn't come back here to hide."
Kieran steps forward, his jaw tight. "She's right. Running won't help. The rogues are already targeting her. We need to—"
"We don't need to do anything, Blackwood," I cut him off. "This is your territory. Your security problem. Handle it."
His blue eyes flash with frustration. "You're in danger—"
"I'm always in danger. Being a True Luna makes me a target everywhere I go. That's not new."
What I don't say: Being Kieran's rejected mate made me a target five years ago too. The wolves who wanted to see him fall used my humiliation as proof of his weakness. My father died because of the shame. Because his daughter wasn't good enough for an Alpha.
I survived that. I'll survive this too.
Marcus is already barking orders into his phone, sending guards to secure the perimeter. The party guests whisper nervously, casting glances at me like I'm a bomb about to explode.
Maybe I am.
Morgana is still clinging to Kieran's arm, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his suit jacket. "Alpha, perhaps Mrs. Volkov should retire to her rooms. For her own safety, of course."
The fake concern in her voice makes my wolf snarl.
"How thoughtful," I say sweetly. "But I don't take orders from desperate she-wolves who've been trying to steal someone else's mate for five years."
Morgana's smile turns razor-sharp. "Steal? You can't steal what was thrown away, Luna. Kieran rejected you, remember? That makes him fair game."
The mate bond flares hot and angry in my chest. My wolf wants to rip her throat out for even thinking about claiming what's ours—
No. Not ours. Not anymore.
"You're welcome to him," I say, my voice like ice. "I have a real Alpha now. One who actually values me."
Dante pulls me closer, playing his role perfectly. "And I have a True Luna. Something Blackwood was too stupid to appreciate."
Kieran's control is visibly cracking. His eyes flash gold—his wolf pushing to the surface. When he speaks, his voice comes out rough and dangerous.
"Volkov. A word. Alone."
"Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of my wife."
"Now."
The command in Kieran's voice makes every wolf in the room straighten. This is Alpha dominance at its peak—the kind of power that built empires and crushed rebellions.
It should terrify me. Instead, my traitorous body remembers what that power felt like directed at me in softer moments. Before the rejection. Before everything broke.
I hate that I remember.
Dante looks at me, silently asking permission. I nod slightly. Whatever Kieran wants to say, Dante can handle it. He's been dealing with Blackwood's threats for years.
The two Alphas move to a quiet corner, their body language screaming aggression. I watch them, my heart pounding despite my cool exterior.
Morgana sees her opportunity. She glides over, her smile pure venom.
"You've changed," she says, looking me up and down. "The last time I saw you, you were crying on the floor. Begging Kieran not to reject you. It was... pathetic."
The memory hits me like a slap. She's right. I was pathetic that night. Twenty years old, heartbroken, desperate. I begged Kieran to reconsider. To give me a chance. To see me as more than my weaknesses.
He looked at me with nothing but cold dismissal.
"You're not strong enough to be my Luna. You'll never be strong enough."
"I remember," I say quietly. "I also remember you laughing. You enjoyed watching me break."
"Can you blame me? You were nobody. A wolfless girl who thought she deserved an Alpha." Morgana leans closer. "And now you're back, pretending to be powerful. But we both know the truth, don't we? You're still that broken girl inside. Still desperate for Kieran's approval."
My wolf surges forward. Power crackles in the air around me—silver light dancing across my skin.
"Want to test that theory?" I ask softly.
Morgana actually steps back, fear flashing in her eyes. Good. Let her be afraid.
Before things can escalate, Kieran's voice cuts through the tension.
"Morgana. Leave."
She blinks, turning to him with wide, innocent eyes. "Alpha, I was just—"
"Leave. Now."
The command is absolute. Morgana's face flushes with humiliation, but she has no choice. She shoots me one last venomous look before disappearing into the crowd.
Kieran and Dante return, and the temperature in the room drops ten degrees. Whatever they discussed, it didn't go well.
"We've agreed to triple security," Kieran says, his tone professional. Distant. "Volkov's warriors will patrol the east wing. Mine will take the west. You and Dante will be in the guest suite on the third floor. Two guards outside your door at all times."
"How romantic," I mutter.
Kieran's eyes lock on mine, and there's something desperate in them. Something that makes the mate bond pulse with recognition.
"Luna, I need you to understand—the rogues targeting you isn't random. They know what a True Luna can do. If they capture you—"
"They won't."
"If they do," he continues, his voice rough, "they could use your power to destroy both our packs. You're not just a target. You're a weapon."
"I'm aware of what I am." I lift my chin. "I've been living with this power for three years. I know how to protect myself."
"Three years?" Kieran's expression shifts to something unreadable. "Your wolf awakened three years ago?"
Too late, I realize my mistake. I shouldn't have given him that information. Shouldn't have let him do the math.
Because three years ago, I was pregnant. Alone. Terrified.
And my wolf emerged not because I was strong enough, but because I had someone else to protect. Someone small and perfect with Kieran's blue eyes.
"It doesn't matter when it happened," I say quickly. "What matters is—"
Kieran's phone buzzes. He glances at it, and his face goes pale.
"What?" Dante demands.
"The rogues left another message. At the south border." Kieran's voice is tight. "It's carved into a tree."
"What does it say?"
Kieran looks directly at me, and I see genuine fear in his eyes.
"It says: 'We know about the child.'"
The world tilts. My heart stops. Everything inside me goes cold with terror.
No. No, no, no.
Dante grabs my arm as I sway. "Luna? What child? What are they talking about?"
I can't speak. Can't breathe. Because there's only one child they could mean.
Asher. My baby. My four-year-old son hidden in Seattle with Cass, far away from pack politics and supernatural wars.
My son that Kieran doesn't know exists.
My son with his father's eyes.
"Luna." Kieran's voice is sharp now, demanding. "Tell me what's going on. What child?"
I meet his gaze, and the truth sits heavy on my tongue. But before I can speak—before I can decide whether to lie or confess—my phone rings.
Cass's number.
My hands shake as I answer. "Cass?"
Her voice comes through strangled with fear. "Luna, they're here. Three rogues just broke into the apartment. I've got Asher locked in the bathroom, but they're breaking down the door. They're asking for you. They said—" Her voice cracks. "They said bring the True Luna or they'll take her son instead."
The phone slips from my fingers and shatters on the marble floor.