The Luna's Wrath

"Drink this, Lucas," I instructed, setting the heavy ceramic bowl on the oak table.

Eight years had passed since the poison ruined my body. I walked with a permanent limp, my lungs rattling with every breath.

My eight-year-old son sneered. His silver eyes—my eyes—flashed with open contempt. "I don't want your sick-blood water."

"It is marrow broth," I corrected, keeping my tone entirely flat. "You need your strength for training."

"I don't need anything from you."

"Drink it."

Lucas shoved the table. The bowl tipped, shattering against the stone floor. Hot broth and splintered bone splattered across my bare toes.

"Lady Selena says you are a useless burden," the boy spat, stepping over the mess. "She says the Blackclaw pack would be stronger if you just died already."

My jaw locked. I grabbed his wrist. "I am your mother."

"Selena is my mother!" he yelled, jerking his arm free with surprising force. "You are just a weak breeding mare!"

"Who taught you to speak to me that way?"

"Everyone!" He backed toward the hallway. "You don't even have a wolf. You're a cripple."

"Get back here and clean this up, Lucas."

"Make me."

He bolted out the door.

I chased after him, my ruined chest heaving. The harder I pushed him, the faster he ran.

He led me straight past the castle gates and into the treeline. The Dark Forest.

"Lucas!" I shouted. Frozen pine needles whipped my face. "The perimeter guards haven't cleared this sector! Come back!"

"Leave me alone! I hate you!" his voice echoed from the gloom.

A low, vibrating growl shook the freezing air.

My blood ran cold.

I found him frozen in a small clearing. A shadow-stalker crouched ten yards away. Thick saliva dripped from its jagged jaws.

"Mom!" Lucas shrieked, stumbling backward into a tree trunk.

"Run to the gates!" I ordered. "Now!"

The beast lunged.

Lucas froze, his eyes wide with terror.

I threw myself over his small frame just as the monster struck. Razor-sharp claws tore through my wool cloak, sinking deep into my shoulder and ripping straight down my spine.

Flesh parted. Hot blood sprayed the white snow.

I didn't scream. I laughed. A wet, broken, hysterical sound that bubbled up from my throat.

The stalker paused, confused by the noise.

That second of hesitation saved us. Three pack guards burst through the brush, silver blades flashing. The monster collapsed with a severed neck.

I slumped into the red snow, clutching my shredded back. "Lucas... are you hurt?"

He didn't answer. He didn't even look at me. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted back toward the safety of the castle.

I crawled.

Every inch sent fire through my ruined nerves. Blood soaked my dress, leaving a thick, glistening trail over the courtyard cobblestones, up the grand staircase, and down the west hall.

I reached Darian's bedchamber. The heavy oak door sat slightly ajar.

I pushed it open, leaving a bloody handprint on the wood.

"Darian," I choked out.

He was on the bed, his pants completely undone, pinning Selena against the mattress. His large hands gripped her bare thighs, fingers digging harshly into her flesh.

"Fuck, Selena, open up," Darian growled, his hips grinding down against her. "You're so fucking wet."

Selena arched her back, her fingers tangling in his dark hair. "Take me, Alpha. Ruin me."

"I'm going to tear you in half."

But they weren't alone.

Lucas knelt right beside the bed. He didn't look at the rutting adults. He kept his posture perfect, looking up at Selena's face.

"Mother," Lucas announced, his voice steady and bright. "I'm back."

Selena paused, her painted lips curving into a wicked smirk. She patted Darian's chest, signaling him to stop.

Darian pulled back. His golden eyes locked onto my ruined, bleeding form in the doorway. He didn't bother pulling up his pants.

"What the fuck is this mess?" Darian demanded.

My blood pooled over the threshold, seeping into the expensive imported rugs.

I stared at my son. "Lucas."

The boy turned his silver eyes toward me. The warmth he just showed Selena vanished, replaced instantly by utter disgust.

"You got blood on my boots," Lucas complained.

A horrific silence stretched across the room.

I didn't cry. I smiled. A wide, unhinged grin that stretched my pale cheeks until they ached.

"I saved your life," I whispered.

"You ruined my hunt," Lucas shot back. "Selena promised me a shadow-stalker pelt today."

Selena sat up, lazily pulling a silk sheet over her bare breasts. She waved a manicured hand toward the hallway. "Drag her out. She’s ruining the floor."

Two guards stepped from the shadows of the corridor.

"Wait," Darian said, his brow furrowing slightly. "She's bleeding out."

"Let her," Selena replied, stroking Lucas's hair. "The boy doesn't need her. She is a defect."

I looked at the child I carried for nine months. The child I took poison for. The child I just took a lethal blow for.

"Lucas," I rasped. "Tell them."

He turned his head away, staring blankly at the stone wall. "I don't know this woman."

The guards grabbed my arms.

Agony exploded across my shredded back. I went limp, letting them haul me away.

They dragged me down the grand staircase. My blood painted the marble steps.

The heavy iron doors of Blackclaw Castle groaned open.

"Throw her," the taller guard grunted.

They tossed me into the howling blizzard.

The massive doors slammed shut behind me. Heavy iron deadbolts locked into place, sealing my fate.

I lay in the deep snow, staring up at the night sky. The full moon hung directly overhead, casting a brilliant, piercing silver glow across the valley.

The cold seeped into my bones, numbing the shredded flesh of my back.

My father. My pack. My mate. My son.

All gone.

A strange heat sparked directly between my eyebrows.

"Ah," I gasped.

The warmth spread, burning brighter and hotter until my forehead felt like it was pressed against a branding iron.

Moonlight poured down from the sky. It didn't just shine; it flowed. A brilliant waterfall of pure silver energy crashed directly into my chest.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Once. Twice.

The chronic sickness in my lungs evaporated. The torn muscle in my back began to knit together, pulling tight with a fierce, snapping energy.

Something ancient cracked open inside my soul.

"You won't die," that deep voice from eight years ago echoed in my mind.

My silver eyes snapped open, glowing fiercely against the dark. The snow beneath my body began to melt, turning to steam.

The Luna of the Silvermoon was dead.

What was waking up in her place?