Chapter 4 ASHES OF A LUNA

I stumbled back.

The ground tilted.

My hands shook as I clutched at the mark between my collarbones. It was no longer glowing silver. It was now turning black, the edges of it searing as if burned by invisible flames.

Kael stepped closer, towering over me.

“You may leave now, Selene Thorne,” he said, his voice calm. His voice controlled. “The Moonfire may have touched you once, but it seems even it couldn’t keep you worthy.”

My father flinched. I saw him clench his fists, fighting the urge to shift, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Kael’s authority as Alpha chained him to submission.

“Come, Thorne,” Kael said sharply. “You wouldn’t want your daughter’s disgrace to taint your name any further.”

That was when I realized it wasn’t just my life he’d broken. It was my father’s pride, too. He had his own plans all along.

Tears blurred my vision as I turned toward him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, but he didn’t look at me. His head hung low.

The room was suffocating. The air smelled of perfume, wine, and betrayal. Laughter rippled like poison through the gathered wolves, and the chandeliers above flickered as if even the light itself recoiled.

The Moonlight above us dimmed, flickering like it too mourned what had been lost.

Kael stepped back. “Escort her out,” he ordered.

Two guards approached.

Something inside me broke then—quietly, cleanly. Like glass meeting stone.

As they grabbed my arms, I felt my wolf whimper deep within, retreating into darkness. The mark between my collarbones burned hot—so hot I cried out. The same silver fire that had seared me in the woods the night before threatened to ignite again.

But I bit it down. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.

“I loved you,” I whispered, voice trembling.

Kael’s jaw flexed, but his eyes stayed cold. “You were never meant for me.”

And with that, he turned his back on me.

The hall exploded in murmurs and cruel laughter.

My father’s voice echoed distantly, calling my name, but I was already being dragged out—out of the light, out of the warmth, into the night air where the wind smelled of pine and rain.

Tears blurred everything. My heart felt like it was bleeding out through every breath.

Every step I took toward the doors felt like walking through flames. I could feel their eyes on me. The different looks. Some conveying pitying, others judging and the rest? Satisfied.

My wolf whimpered again, desperate to flee.

When I reached the entrance, someone laughed. “Guess not every fated mate is meant to be a Luna.”

The sound followed me like a curse.

Outside, the cold air hit my face like a slap. I gasped, clutching at the blackened mark that throbbed against my chest. The moon hung above me, full and merciless, watching as everything I’d ever known burned down to ash.

My legs gave out, and I sank to the stone steps. The night was too quiet—except for the faint, cruel echo of laughter drifting from the hall behind me.

I wanted to scream. To cry. To hate him.

But all I could feel was the hollow ache where our bond used to live.

The mark pulsed—once, twice—and I thought I heard a whisper. Soft. Ancient.

“Not weakness. Awakening.”

It stopped for a moment.

Then it flared once more, pulsing with strange heat. I pressed my hand to it and for a heartbeat, I saw something behind my eyes.

A flicker of silver fire.

A whisper. Low.

“Daughter of Moonfire.”

Then it was gone.

My breath hitched. I looked up at the moon, its light catching the tears on my cheeks. For the first time, the moonlight didn’t comfort me. It burned.

I stumbled into the shadows, breath ragged. The sound of celebration continued behind me, false and hollow. The music, the laughter—they felt like echoes from another life. The disgrace I faced didn’t seem to stop their fun. They carried on with their celebration.

I didn’t know where I was going. My feet carried me past the gates, past the torches that lined the path, into the open fields where the grass whispered against my skin. Every step felt like shedding a part of myself. Shedding the part of an obedient daughter. Shedding the part of the devoted mate. Shedding the part of the broken girl.

Above, the clouds shifted, and the moonlight poured down again—sharper, colder, as if daring me to rise. My wolf stirred faintly, not in submission this time, but in defiance.

The full moon hung heavy above the trees, watching in silence.

That night, something inside me died.

And deep inside, beneath the humiliation and heartbreak, something began to stir.

A promise. Maybe.

A spark. Maybe.

Or maybe it was something older. Something darker. Something more divine.

Whatever it was, it was stirring awake.

I had covered a distance when I heard voices and paws hitting the ground. "Get her!"