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The White Wolf's Secret: His Unexpected Luna Novel Cover

The White Wolf's Secret: His Unexpected Luna

I am only three years old, but I have the ancient soul of a Seer and the monstrous strength of a warrior. When my caretaker died, he gave me a blood-pact stone and told me to find my new guardian, Ryker Blackwood. I crossed the dangerous forest alone. I even slaughtered three massive rogues with a silver dagger and healed a dying noblewoman along the way. But when I finally tracked Ryker down in the pack market, he wasn't the strong protector I was promised. He was a disgraced outcast, kneeling in the dirt, bound with burning wolfsbane ropes. The pack's cruel enforcer was raising a silver whip to sever his leg for unpaid debts, while the entire crowd jeered and called him useless trash. He was utterly broken, penniless, and couldn't even defend himself, let alone protect a child. Silas had sworn Ryker was a good man. How could this pathetic, hated pariah be my destined guardian? Yet, seeing them humiliate Silas's only friend ignited a cold fury in my ancient wolf. I stepped out from the crowd, a tiny silver-haired pup facing down the pack's most feared enforcer. "Stop. You are not worthy to punish him." I exposed her darkest secret to the whole market, shattered Ryker's chains, and decided to save this broken man—even if my kraken-like appetite meant he'd have to hunt monsters just to afford my dinner.
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Chapter 4

Lyra's POV:

The flicker of life that had returned to Elara's face vanished. Her skin went pale again. "Soul... rotting?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "What does that mean?"

Faye and Cody looked completely lost. It was a term they had never heard. In the back of the crowd, an older werewolf gasped, his eyes wide as if he was remembering some dark, forgotten legend.

I extended a small finger and pointed to the center of her chest. "Here. There is a sliver of black energy. It is eating your life force. It is the foul breath of a Rogue."

At the word "Rogue," the faces of the guards hardened. The car crash was no accident. It was an ambush. Rogues, the fallen and corrupt, were known to use dark magics that left cursed wounds no normal Healer could mend.

Fear flooded Elara's eyes, followed by raw desperation. "Can you... can you save me? Please." All her noble pride was gone, replaced by the simple, primal need to live.

I looked at her calmly. "A full cleansing takes time. I have other duties to attend to."

Elara's face fell. Faye rushed to speak. "Whatever you want, the House of Vance and the Crestwood Pack will provide! Gold, power, land—anything!"

I shook my head. Those things meant nothing to me.

"I can give you a mark," I said, my gaze steady on Elara. "It will hold back the darkness for three moons."

Elara nodded without hesitation. "Yes! But where do I find you after? Please, tell me where to go."

I was quiet for a moment. My vision was already beginning to blur at the edges. The healing had drained me more than I wanted to show.

"When the time comes, you will find me," I said. "That is all I can give you."

It was not an answer. Elara opened her mouth to press further, but I was already moving.

I raised my index finger, and a bead of silver light gathered at its tip. In the air just above her chest, I drew a complex, glowing sigil of the crescent moon.

The rune solidified, radiating a holy light that pushed back the shadows and the lingering scent of death.

With a gentle push of my hand, the glowing mark sank into Elara's chest and vanished.

A warm, pure energy flooded her body. She gasped as the feeling of being gnawed on from the inside instantly disappeared. She felt better than she had in years, stronger and cleaner.

The effort left me feeling drained, my small face paler than before. A wave of exhaustion rolled over me. I had spent too much today. I needed food. I needed rest. My thoughts were growing sluggish, a fog settling over my mind.

I stood up to leave.

Faye scrambled to her feet, pulling a heavy pouch of gold coins from her belt. "Little... Little Mistress, please, take this for your trouble..."

I walked past her without a glance.

I went to my backpack and swung it onto my shoulders with ease.

Cody, the big guard, stepped forward out of instinct, wanting to help me with the seemingly heavy load. He reached out to lift it for me.

The moment his hand touched the strap, his face contorted in shock. It was like trying to lift a boulder. He grunted, putting all of his warrior's strength into it, but the bag didn't even move an inch.

He stared at me, dumbfounded, as I stood there with it on my back as if it were filled with feathers.

I ignored his astonishment and walked away, my small form quickly swallowed by the shadows of the forest.

Left behind on the road was a crowd of shell-shocked werewolves and a noblewoman who had been given a second chance at life, but whose fate still hung by a thread.

Elara clutched her chest, feeling the warm power of the sigil. She turned to Cody and Faye, her voice raw with frustration and hope.

"She didn't tell me where to find her. She gave me nothing."

Faye's face paled. "My lady... then how will we—"

"We have three months," Elara cut her off, her voice hardening into steel. "Use every resource we have. Send word to Gideon. I don't care what it costs. Find that child before the three moons are up. We will find her."

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