My mom is the Luna of the Thorne Pack. Seven males walked into her bedroom tonight. One by one. The one who set it all up is my Alpha father. He stood in the doorway the entire time, his new whore in his arms, smiling. “The proud Luna.” he says. “You always thought you were better than Brielle. But now…” “Half the males in the pack have seen your skin. Touched it. So you’ll finally agree to let me take Brielle as my second, won’t you?” It wasn’t the first time. I know. And this time, Mom doesn’t scream. She doesn’t fight. She doesn’t even cry. That night, she just slips the mating pendant from her neck — the one my father gave her the night they mated— and drops it straight into the flames. The next morning, he throws Brielle the loudest mating ceremony the Thorne Pack has ever seen. Bigger than the one he gave Mom. Louder. Brighter. Every Alpha and Luna from three territories shows up. I sit beside Mom in the back row in a plain gray dress, digging my claws into my own palms hard enough to bleed. Then, right when the howls go up the loudest — drawings starts raining down from the rafters. Filthy drawings. My mother’s body. Naked. I scramble across the floor, ripping them, stuffing them under the tables, my whole face on fire. My father’s eyes go black. “So you like showing off that much?” he roars at her. “Your’re nothing but a slut! Warriors — drag the Luna to the Pit!” The warriors close in. Two of them grab Mom by the arms. They don’t even wait for her to stand. They haul her up — her feet barely touching the floor — and drag her straight through the hall. I scream. I claw forward. I have to get to her. I have to pull my mom back. But the old nursemaid clamps a hand over my mouth and drags me out kicking. All I can do is watch. Watch the warriors drag her past me — pulling her one way, while the nursemaid pulls me the other. The dark swallows her whole. Soon, the howls begin. Something inside my chest breaks. And their laughter keeps coming. “Any wolf who comes out of the Pit alive can’t even shift again. Useless. Broken.” “Generous of the Alpha, letting his own Luna feed the Pit…” “Pretty Luna. She’s sweeter than any rogue. But it won’t be pretty anymore when they’re done with her wolf.” I go cold all the way to my bones. I tug the nursemaid’s sleeve, voice shaking. “What’s the Pit?” She just shakes her head, eyes wet. “The cruelest thing they’ve ever done to a wolf. That’s all I’ll say.” … The howls go on for hours. I’m locked in my room. I don’t know how long. I don’t sleep. I don’t speak. Then — footsteps in the corridor outside. Heavy. Dragging. I throw myself at the door. Pounding. Screaming. The door swings open. I tear out into the corridor. I crash into Mom’s room — and the smell hits me first. Blood. Sweat. Strangers. My stomach flips. She’s lying on the bed, eyes wide open, staring at nothing. Her robe is so thin I can see right through it — she’s bruised everywhere. Every inch of her. “Mom…” My voice cracks. My fingers hover over her arm — I’m too scared to touch her. I spin around to run for a healer. The curtain slams open. My father walks in with Brielle tucked under his arm, her face painted, perfume sharp. She wrinkles her nose at the smell and hides behind him. He looks down at Mom like she’s a stain. “Maren. Drop the act.” “Yur wolf is still there, and I told every male not to actually touch you. Stop playing dead.” I open my mouth — she has bruises everywhere, can’t he see? But Mom grabs my wrist first. From under her pillow she pulls something out. Then she lifts her chin and looks her mate dead in the eye. “Damon Thorne. I, Maren Ashford, reject —” “ENOUGH.” The Alpha command cracks through the room so hard the windows shake. My knees buckle. Mom’s voice locks in her throat. He used his power on his own Luna to shut her up. “You don’t get to say it,” he hisses. “Not a word more!” He paces. Then, like the words cost him nothing, he says, “Where would you even go, Maren? Your father’s dead. Your brother’s dead. Your mother’s been gone for years. There’s nothing left of the Ashford Pack but bones. I’m all you have.” I freeze. So he remembers. He remembers her brother died to draw the rogues away from him — shredded by a hundred hunters, bones still buried somewhere in the northern sand without a single marker. He remembers her father tore his own throat open in the middle of the council hall, on his knees, begging other Alphas for backup. Bled out on the floor. Just so he could come home alive. He remembers kneeling at the Ashford ancestors’ altar, swearing on the moon: I, Damon Thorne, will protect Maren Ashford until my last breath. One mate. One Luna. Forever. Forever lasted three years. He came home from the Northern War with Brielle on his arm. Said she was a rogue. Said Mom should be gracious and give up the Luna’s quarters. Mom did. Brielle sneezed at the moonflowers in the garden — Mom’s moonflowers, five years of her own hands in the dirt — and he tore them all out the next morning. Then Mom got pregnant. A boy. The pack heir. Brielle whispered one sentence into his ear, “The pup’s spirit clashes with mine, my Alpha. If he lives, I won’t.” That same night, he held Mom down himself and poured the wolfsbane tonic into her mouth. Mom bled out the pup on the bedroom floor, screaming loud enough that every wolf in the pack heard her. But not one came. And out front, in the great hall, my father had Brielle on his lap, laughing, drinking, drums pounding — like he couldn’t even hear her. Like she wasn’t worth hearing. That was the night I knew. My father, who used to lift me onto his shoulders, who held my mother’s hand under the full moon, was already dead.
Like he’s afraid Mom will try to reject him again, Damon snatches the thing she pulled from her pillow — a small carved token marked with the Ashford sigil — and throws it into the fire. The flames eat it in seconds. Then he sighs. Soft. Almost tender. He reaches out to brush her hair back, the way he used to. Mom turns her face away. His hand freezes mid-air. His jaw locks. The whole room drops ten degrees. “Tonight Brielle and I are attending the Blood Moon Ball,” he says flatly. “Give her your mother’s moonstone set. The necklace, the pendant. All of it.” “NO!” I’m on my feet before Mom can move. “That belonged to Grandma. It’s all Mom has left of the Ashford Pack. Nobody touches it.” Brielle’s eyes fill instantly. “My Alpha, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t want anything that belongs to the Luna. I wasn’t born lucky like Elise. I don’t have parents to protect me. Let them all laugh at me tonight then, it’s fine. I’m used to it…” Damon’s face goes to stone. “Maren. Is this how you raise a daughter? Disrespectful. Wild. No discipline at all. Maybe Brielle should raise her from now on. Teach her what obedience looks like.” Mom’s face drains white. She drags herself off the bed on shaking legs and shoves me behind her. “Take all of it. Don’t touch Elise.” A flicker of triumph crosses Brielle’s eyes before she goes soft again. “My Alpha, I’m such a simple she-wolf. I’ll embarrass myself at the Ball without guidance. Why doesn’t Luna Maren come along as my personal maid? She can correct me when I make mistakes.” The Luna of the Thorne Pack. Serving as a maid to her mate’s whore. That’s not guidance. That’s public execution. Damon doesn’t even pause. “Done.” By sundown, a coarse gray maid’s dress lands at our door. I watch my mother peel her robe off her wrecked back and pull that ugly dress over bruises that haven’t even started healing. Tears just keep coming and I can’t stop them. She reaches up and wipes my face. Then she presses something cool into my palm — a moon-bone hairpin, white and smooth as river stone. “Elise, baby.” Her voice is so quiet. “I don’t think I have much time left.” “When I’m gone, take this pin. Run for the Northern Territories. Find Alpha Cassian. Your grandfather raised him like a son. He’ll keep you safe.” “I just wish… I could’ve watched you grow up.” I close my fist around the pin so hard the edge cuts me. I already know. She’s been bleeding out for months. Not from the wounds. From her wolf. She fought, in the beginning. Every time, they shoved her deeper. When Brielle first arrived, Mom didn’t want a rogue she-wolf in our pack around me. She bought a small house at the edge of pack lands and put Brielle there. Reasonable. Generous. The next morning Damon dragged Mom out and made her crawl on her knees the full length of the pack road, in front of every warrior, to invite Brielle home herself. For being a jealous Luna. Six moons ago, after the miscarriage, Mom grabbed a silver knife and went straight for Brielle’s throat. Damon caught her at the door. He didn’t strike her. He told her, very calmly, that if she stepped one paw across that door again, he would dig up Grandma’s bones and scatter them so her wolf could never return to the Moon. Three nights ago, somebody leaked old filthy pictures of Brielle from her rogue days in the north. Damon decided Mom did it. So that night, he drugged her. Then he threw her in a locked shed with a pack of starving rogues. And he stood outside and listened. That was the night her wolf went silent inside her for good. I press my face into her chest. She’s so thin I can feel every rib. “Mom…”
Brielle isn’t done with us. At the Blood Moon Ball, she keeps Mom on her feet all night — pouring her wine, kneeling to fix her shoes, presenting her cup with both hands. Every Luna in three territories watches the proud Luna of the Thorne Pack serve a rogue. When she’s bored of that, she pulls us out to a quiet lake behind the Ball. She unhooks one of her moonstone earrings and flicks it into the dark water. “Pick it up.” Mom doesn’t move. Brielle’s voice goes sharp. “Maren. You are my maid tonight.” Mom finally lifts her eyes. Cold. Steady. Old Ashford fight. “The moonstone set doesn’t make you a Luna. You’re still a rogue.” Brielle’s hand flies up. I throw myself between them and shove her back hard. “Don’t you dare touch my mother!” “You little bitch — ” She swings at me. Mom yanks me into her chest and Brielle’s nails rake across her neck instead, leaving four red lines. For one second, my mother’s eyes catch fire. The Alpha blood rises in her. Brielle actually steps back. Then it’s gone. Brielle laughs. “Look at you. A toothless old wolf. All bark.” “Fine. You don’t. But your daughter? She’s going to suffer for it.” “You wouldn’t dare.” Mom is shaking. “Elise is the Luna’s daughter. You touch her and I will haunt you out of your skin.” Brielle smiles. “oh the Luna’s daughter. But you know. Plenty of packs have already asked my Alpha to promise Elise in mating. Should I tell him to say yes to the Crowley heir? Or the Vance heir?” Two of the most rotten males alive. One trades she-wolves like coins. The other has buried three of his mates already. Mom’s whole body trembles. “Fine. I’ll pick it up.” The lake water in autumn is freezing. Mom wades in step by step. Within moments her lips are blue. Her hands shake too hard to grip anything. I scream for her to come back. Brielle smacks me hard. Twice. “Shut up, you little bitch. One more sound and I cut your tongue out.” My cheek burns. I glare at her with everything I have. A voice cuts the air. “What is going on here?” Damon. Brielle’s face flips in half a second. She grabs my hand and slams it against her own chest — then throws herself backward into the lake. The splash is huge. Damon dives without thinking. He drags Brielle out, holds her against him, panic and tenderness all over his face. He doesn’t even glance at Mom drowning in the center of the lake. A passing pack warrior pulls her out. Brielle clings to Damon, soaked and shaking, then sees me and screams. “No — please — I’m sorry — don’t hit me again, please — ” “I never touched you!” My voice rips out of me. I point to my own swollen cheek. “She made my mother go into the cold water for an earring! She called me a little bitch! She slapped me!” Damon finally looks at Mom. She’s barely breathing. After everything her body’s been through, the freezing lake almost finished her. Something flickers in his eyes. Almost regret. Brielle bursts into tears against his chest before he can speak. “Luna, I know you hate me. Fine. Hurt me, I deserve it. But teaching Elise to lie about me…” “Yes, I slapped her. Because she called me a bitch. She insulted my dead parents. I’m a rogue, my Alpha, but I have pride. I would rather die than be treated like that — ” She lunges toward the water again like she’s going to jump. “ENOUGH.” Damon’s roar shakes the trees. “Elise. Attacking the Alpha’s second. Drag her to the Pack Hall. Twenty lashes.” “NO!” Mom drops at his feet. Soaking. Bleeding. She slams her forehead into the stone in front of every guest there. “I raised her. Whatever she did, punish me. Take mine.” Damon’s eyes are ice. “Forty.” … The Pack Hall is cold. Stone. Old. Mom kneels on the floor, swaying. The silver-laced whip comes down and her skin opens on the first hit. Silver — to a wolf — is fire under the skin. She doesn’t scream. She bites her lip until it bleeds. I drop to my knees and claw at the stone floor, begging anyone, the Moon herself. My skin splits. Blood runs into my eyes. The forty count finally ends and Mom coughs up a mouthful of red and folds forward into the dark. I have her carried back. I send for every healer in the territory. I sit by her bed all night. Sometime before dawn, I fall against the side of her bed. Footsteps wake me. Damon. He kneels by her bed. His fingers shake as he peels the bandage off her back. The whip marks are deep, raw, crusted black with silver burn. His eyes go red. A tear lands on her shoulder. He starts cleaning the wounds himself, hands careful, voice ruined. “Maren. Why are you so stubborn.” “Brielle is not perfect, I know, but she has a good heart. She saved my life in the Northern War. I owe her that.” “Look. If you really can’t stand her, then once she gives me a pup, I’ll send her out and you and I and Elise will be a family again. Like before.” I keep my eyes shut. I don’t want to see him. There is no before anymore. There is no us anymore.
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