The Alpha Who Knelt Too Late

After I was captured by the werewolves of the Ashenfang Pack, I sent my future mate, Lachlan, ninety-nine encrypted distress messages.

He deleted them all and severed our mind-link.

"After Rhiannon injured Cora with a silver weapon, I sent her back to her family's territory—and I sent my most elite guards to escort her. The Ashenfang Pack couldn't have possibly touched her." He took a sharp breath. "I only gave the moonstone necklace to Cora. That's all. And now Rhiannon is making a scene again, just to get my attention. How pathetic."

He paced irritably.

"Cora's brother died protecting my father. He was my father's most trusted warrior, and I swore I'd protect her in his place. Tell Rhiannon—no matter what tantrum she throws, I will not abandon Cora. If she keeps this up, I'll postpone our bonding ceremony."

Three days later, he arrived at my family's territory, holding the bonding sigil, ready to bond with me.

At that exact moment, an emissary from the Ashenfang Pack delivered an exquisite silver box.

Lachlan glanced at it and breathed a sigh of relief. "Looks like the peace offering has arrived. All that drama for nothing."

The lid opened.

Inside was—

My head.

The manor's mourning bells began to toll.

Slow. Heavy. Final.

The doors to the Hall of Ancestors parted. The Great Elder emerged, dressed in dark robes, his face solemn.

"Lady Rhiannon Sinclair has returned her soul to the Moon Goddess. The funeral will begin immediately."

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1

"Alpha, an urgent encrypted message from Lady Sinclair. Three days ago, on her way back to her family's territory, she was captured by werewolves from the Ashenfang Pack. Their Alpha is demanding a ransom."

Lachlan Sterling's Beta, Ronan, stood pale-faced, the communicator in his hand trembling. "This is the ninety-ninth distress message she has sent. You're not even going to look?"

Lachlan sneered and deleted the message. "Seeking attention again. Ignore it. The Sinclair territory borders Ashenfang—true—but a few roving patrols aren't enough to start a war. Captured? Does she take me for a fool?"

Ronan swallowed hard, daring to press on. "These messages are coming from Ashenfang territory. They're real."

"Enough."

Lachlan shattered his wine glass. Shards of crystal scattered across the floor. "She's blinded by jealousy. I was just kind to the sister of a loyal warrior, and she attacks Cora for it."

"If she had truly encountered Ashenfang wolves, she would have escaped long ago. How could she possibly be caught? I sent my most elite guards to escort her. Capture was impossible."

By then, my head had already been severed by the Ashenfang Alpha's silver blade. We had not yet formally bonded, so our mind-link wasn't strong, and Lachlan couldn't sense my death.

But my soul had returned to the Sterling Pack.

I floated above them, listening to Lachlan's certainty, and let out a faint, bitter laugh.

He seemed to have forgotten one thing.

He had given Cora Shaw his Alpha's sigil, a token of authority equal to his own.

Before the entire pack, he had declared: "Cora Shaw's word is my word. Anyone who defies her will be executed."

Wielding this sigil, she dismissed all the guards he had assigned to me. When I crossed the border into the Sinclair territory, I had only one loyal guardian by my side.

Before dusk, the werewolves of the Ashenfang Pack captured us.

One of them muttered carelessly, "This is the Sterling Pack's future Luna? How come she doesn't have a single guard? Was our intel wrong?"

My route had been leaked. That was the only answer.

So, was it Cora?

That day, my followers fell one by one, their bodies forming a barrier between me and the enemy's claws.

As we fled, my handmaiden pulled me into a thicket of bushes. She threw on my cloak and ran toward the border in my place.

Silver-tipped arrows pursued her, striking her until her body was riddled with them, like a pincushion.

I watched them die, one after another. My heart was torn apart. And I could do nothing.

Soon after, the Alpha of the Ashenfang Pack, Silas Thorne, captured me himself.

"Oh, look at this," he said, his eyes raking over me, a cruel glint in them. "A little abandoned thing. How do you want to die? By silver arrow, or kneeling on the executioner's block?"

I choked down my fear. "You can't do this to me. I am the fated mate of the Sterling Pack's Alpha—Lachlan. Kill me, and you're declaring war."

"Oh?" he sneered. "The Alpha's mate? You look more like an outcast. I'll give you one chance. Prove it. If you're truly the future Luna, I might just let you live."

He allowed a messenger to carry my encrypted messages.

But the distress calls I sent went unanswered.