Kaia's POV
The blood moon hangs overhead like a crimson eye watching my humiliation.
I stare at the old woman who appeared from nowhere, her silver eyes gleaming in the darkness. My body still trembles from crying, from running, from having my heart ripped out and stomped on in front of five hundred wolves.
The Moon Goddess hasn't forgotten me? I repeat bitterly. Then where was she when Garrett destroyed me in front of everyone?
The old woman—Maeve, she calls herself—settles onto a flat rock beside the river like she has all the time in the world. The Goddess sees farther than one night, child. What looks like an ending might be a beginning.
That's easy to say when you're not the one everyone just laughed at. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly aware that I'm naked and shivering. Shifting back to human burned through what little energy I had left.
Maeve tosses me a worn cloak from her bag. It smells like herbs and woodsmoke. Put this on before you freeze. Then we'll talk about your options.
I wrap the cloak around myself, grateful for the warmth. You mentioned the Offering Rite. Tell me everything.
Eager, aren't you?
I have nothing left to lose.
Something flickers in her ancient eyes—approval or pity, I can't tell which. The rite happens once a year during the blood moon. Unmated or rejected wolves can volunteer to stand before the Moon Goddess and ask for a second chance. A true mate bond, blessed by divine power.
Hope flutters weakly in my chest. And it works?
Sometimes. Maeve's expression turns serious. Most volunteers receive nothing—the Goddess finds them unworthy or their mate hasn't been born yet. Some receive a faint mark, a compass pointing toward their destined mate somewhere in the world. They spend years searching, but at least they have hope.
And the rest?
The rest die. She says it matter-of-factly, like discussing the weather. The Goddess's power is too much for weak wolves to handle. Their bodies burn from the inside out during the ritual.
My stomach clenches. How do you know if you're strong enough?
You don't. That's the risk. Maeve leans forward, her silver eyes boring into mine. But I've been watching you, Kaia Thornwood. You're stronger than you know. Stronger than they've let you believe.
I'm the weakest wolf in my pack, I say automatically. It's what everyone's told me my whole life.
Are you? She tilts her head. Or have you been made weak on purpose?
The question hits me like a slap. What do you mean?
When did you first shift?
Sixteen. Really late. The shame of it still burns. Most wolves shift by thirteen or fourteen. I was such a late bloomer that some pack members whispered I might be human.
And before your father died? How did you feel?
I think back, trying to remember. Dad died when I was twelve in a hunting accident. Before that... I was normal. Healthy. I kept up with the other pups during training.
And after his death? After your stepmother took control?
The memories flood back—Moira taking over the pack, marrying into the Alpha position my father left behind. She brought Lyanna, her daughter from a previous mate. Everything changed.
I got weaker, I whisper. I couldn't keep up anymore. I was tired all the time. My wolf wouldn't emerge properly. The pack healer said I had a weak constitution.
Or someone was poisoning you. Maeve's words are quiet but devastating. Slowly. Carefully. Just enough to keep you weak but not enough to kill you outright.
My breath catches. No. That's... that's insane.
Is it? Think, child. Who benefits from you being weak? Who needed you powerless and broken?
Moira's satisfied smirk tonight flashes through my mind. Lyanna's triumphant eyes. The way they both looked so pleased when Garrett rejected me.
They planned this, I breathe. Tonight. They planned the whole thing.
I'd bet my life on it. Your stepmother has been setting this up for years. Keep you weak, keep you grateful for any scrap of affection, then snatch it away publicly to break you completely.
Rage bubbles up inside me, hot and vicious. Why? What did I ever do to her?
You existed. You were your father's daughter. Some women can't stand reminders of a mate's first love. Maeve stands, brushing off her robes. The question now is: what will you do about it?
The Offering Rite, I say immediately. I'll volunteer.
It's dangerous, Kaia. The Goddess doesn't grant power lightly, and she demands everything in return. You could die.
Then I die. I stand too, the cloak falling around me like armor. At least I'll die trying to take control of my own life instead of being someone's punching bag.
Maeve studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. Meet me at the Moon Temple tomorrow night. Midnight. The blood moon will be at its peak.
I'll be there.
Come alone. Tell no one. The fewer people who know, the better. She starts to fade into the shadows, then pauses. Oh, and Kaia? Don't eat anything your stepmother gives you between now and then. In fact, don't eat anything at home at all.
The poison. Of course.
I won't, I promise.
Maeve disappears completely, leaving me alone by the river with a decision made and a dangerous hope kindling in my chest.
I shift back into my small brown wolf and run toward home—toward the pack house where Moira and Lyanna are probably celebrating their victory right now. Where Garrett is probably kissing my stepsister and congratulating himself on trading up.
Let them celebrate. Let them think they've won.
Tomorrow night, everything changes.
I reach the pack house just as the ceremony attendees start arriving back. I slip through the side entrance, avoiding everyone, and make it to my tiny room in the servants' quarters—because that's all I am now. Not the Alpha's daughter. Just a servant.
I'm about to close my door when Lyanna appears in the hallway, still wearing that expensive dress, her lips swollen from kissing my boyfriend.
Oh good, you came back, she says sweetly. I was worried you might do something stupid like throw yourself off a cliff.
I don't respond. I won't give her the satisfaction.
Garrett is amazing, Kaia. I can see why you kept him secret for so long. But honestly, did you really think someone like him would choose someone like you? She laughs. You're pathetic. Weak. Worthless. Everyone knows it.
Are you done? My voice comes out flat, dead.
She blinks, surprised by my lack of reaction. I'm just getting started. Mother wants you to serve at my mating ceremony next month. You'll wear a servant's uniform and watch me marry the man you thought loved you. Won't that be fun?
Something cold settles in my chest. I look at Lyanna—really look at her—and see what I couldn't before. She's not beautiful. She's hollow. Empty. A puppet dancing on Moira's strings, just like I was.
Enjoy him while you can, I say quietly. You two deserve each other.
I close the door in her shocked face.
Inside my room, I pull out the small pack Sienna helped me prepare earlier—just some clothes and a few belongings. Everything I own fits in one bag. That's how little my life has amounted to.
But tomorrow night, that changes.
Tomorrow night, I face the Moon Goddess.
Tomorrow night, I either find my second chance or I die trying.
I lie down on my narrow bed, staring at the blood moon through my window, and whisper into the darkness:
I'm ready for whatever you have planned for me. Just please... let me be worth something.
The moon seems to pulse brighter, like it heard me.
Like something heard me.
And for the first time in my life, I feel the faintest whisper of power stirring deep in my bones—something that's been sleeping, waiting, locked away for twenty-three years.
Something that wants out.