“My father’s car accident was not an accident – the organ donation agreement he signed stated that the beneficiary was his illegitimate son whom he never called ‘son’.” When I woke up on the operating table of Moonhealer, with catheters all over my body, I finally understood the truth of this “father’s love” But now, I am back with the blessing of Moon Goddess. Kaelen looked at my scars with his blue eyes that could freeze his prey, but his fingertips were unspeakably gentle: “Does it hurt?” I smiled and put the dagger against his Adam’s apple: “Not even one ten-thousandth of his betrayal.” My hackles rose as the truth sank in – my sire hadn’t just betrayed our pack, he’d sabotaged our hunting vehicle. The brakes had failed during the full moon run. My dam and I had barely survived the crash. While we lay bleeding in the Moonhealer’s den, my sire had signed the life-debt waiver – agreeing to harvest our organs for his bastard whelp with the failing kidneys. His moon-blessed son by that she-wolf he’d been rutting with behind my dam’s back. Then the Moon Goddess granted me a second chance. I woke with the scent of pine and blood in my nostrils – the day before the accident. My claws dug into my palms as I watched my sire’s false smile, saw my dam’s exhausted muzzle graying too soon from years of submission. ‘This time,’ I vowed to the moon, ‘that traitor and his whore will pay in blood.’ I’d always known my sire despised me for being born female. He was obsessed with continuing the Blackfang bloodline, as if we were some royal pack instead of just territory holders. After my birth, my dam had quickened with three more pups – each time he’d forced her to reject the litter when the seers predicted females. The last forced rejection left her barren. My sire would sneer, “Useless bitch can’t even whelp proper heirs.” I’d begged my dam to flee with me to the Rogue Lands, but she clung to the fantasy that his wolf still recognized her as mate. The abuse lessened when I reached my first shift age. Not out of remorse – that was when his mistress birthed his precious golden-furred son. A traitorous Alpha, a broken Luna, and a conniving she-wolf waiting to steal our den. Even with this moon-blessed second chance, the injustice made my fangs ache. “Hunt safely. Howl when you reach the gathering,” my sire called after us, his voice dripping with false concern. What kind of Alpha sacrifices his true mate and firstborn for a sickly bastard whelp? Even lowland coyotes protect their pups better. As we left pack territory, I kept growling warnings: “Slow pace, dam. Scent the wind carefully.” Before reaching the Thunderpath, I demanded we stop at the Greasepaw mechanic’s outpost. She bared her teeth in irritation. “Your sire just had the vehicle blessed by pack mechanics! What could be wrong?” I flattened my ears. “My pelt won’t lie still. The moon whispers warnings. Please, just let them check the brake talismans.” Before she could refuse, I turned to the grizzled delta mechanic and dropped to a submissive crouch. “Honored one, please examine the stopping-magic. I offer two moonstones for your time.” The old wolf’s nostrils flared as he caught the scent of tampered enchantments. His growl shook the ground when he found the blood-tainted brake runes. “This was no accident. Someone wanted you dead on the Thunderpath.” My dam’s golden eyes finally cleared of denial as the truth sank in – her mate had tried to murder us for his bastard son. A low, grieving howl built in her throat as the mechanic showed her the evidence. The sound made my own wolf rise in answering fury. Tonight, we would howl a different tune. Tonight, the traitors would learn why even a female Blackfang was not to be crossed.
“Why did you choose to run the Volkten territory with me?” I asked as the Greasepaw mechanic worked on our vehicle, my claws tapping against the moonstone counter. In my last life, this question had haunted me. My dam rarely left pack lands, let alone traveled to distant territories without my sire. There had to be meaning in this journey. At my question, my dam’s ears flattened against her skull. Her golden eyes darkened with unspoken pain, her scent turning bitter with regret. The hesitation in her body language made my wolf stir with curiosity. Wait… My tail stiffened. Could my sire not be my true blood? Is my real father waiting in Volkten? Is that why she’s taking me there now that I’ve had my first shift? Years of listening to Lonewolf Ballads around the fire had clearly addled my brain – I was already picturing some dramatic Alpha reunion under the blood moon. My dam’s nostrils flared as she caught the change in my scent. She cuffed me lightly behind the ears, her growl laced with amusement. “Stop that. My wolf has only ever known one mate.” “The truth is,” she continued, her voice dropping to a mournful howl, “your grandsire is fading. The moon sickness has taken hold. Your uncle reached out through the howl network – he wants to see us one last time.” “When I bonded with your sire, my whole pack opposed the mating. I was so furious I severed the blood ties… and never looked back.” Her whiskers trembled with regret. Just as I opened my muzzle to ask about my grandsire’s pack, the delta mechanic approached, his grease-stained fur standing on end. “This vehicle shouldn’t be on the Thunderpath,” he rumbled, wiping his paws on a rag. “The brake talismans are nearly faded to nothing. At high speeds, the stopping magic would fail completely.” “The engine runes are cracked too,” he continued, showing us the damaged markings. “And worst of all – the fuel bladder is leaking moonfire essence. One spark and…” He made an explosive motion with his claws. My dam’s hackles rose. “Impossible! My mate just had the pack shamans bless this vehicle three suns ago!” The old mechanic gave a world-weary snort. “I call the scents as I find them, Luna. Take it to the Alpha’s mechanics if you doubt me – but don’t say I didn’t warn you when this den-on-wheels bursts into flames mid-run.” I placed a restraining paw on my dam’s shoulder before she could argue. “Fix everything,” I told the mechanic. “We’ll pay in moonstones or fresh kill.” Turning to my dam, I let my ears droop in submission. “Remember the death pact sire made us sign last moon cycle? I thought it was strange then… but now the scent trail is clear.” Before I could finish, my dam’s pupils dilated to black pools. Without a word, she stalked outside, her claws already extending as she punched in my sire’s number on her howl-phone. The low, dangerous growl building in her chest promised that someone’s blood would paint the moon tonight.
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