Cracks in the Moon Pack
Chapter Five – Cracks in the Moon Pack
The Moon Pack’s palace gleamed as always — all marble pillars, golden sconces, and sprawling courtyards lit by the silver of the full moon. Yet within its walls, the scent of decay had begun to spread.
It started with silence.
Alpha Max sat at the head of the long feast table, Diana at his side, her jeweled fingers drumming impatiently against polished oak. Around them, pack members spoke in hushed voices, their laughter forced. The air was taut with unease, for their Alpha had not smiled in moons.
Diana leaned close, her voice dripping honey that could not hide the acid beneath. “You hardly touched your meat, my love. Is something wrong?”
Max’s golden eyes flicked to her, sharp and unyielding. He said nothing.
She bristled, fingers tightening around her goblet. Once, she had imagined this union would crown her the most envied female in the kingdom. She had secured the Moon Pack’s heir — ruthless, strong, desired. She thought the other she-wolves would cower before her as Luna.
But instead, she had found herself bound to a storm she could not control.
When they retired to their chambers, Diana tried again. She sat before her mirror, brushing her raven hair, her voice careful but edged.
“You brood too much, Max. It makes the pack restless. They whisper already that our bond is… strained.”
Max stood at the window, staring into the night. His wolf, Tawny, paced within him — restless, growling, his claws raking at the edges of Max’s mind.
We should not be here, Tawny snarled. We should not have chosen her. She is wrong for us.
Max clenched his jaw, refusing to answer. But his silence only infuriated his wolf further.
You betrayed me when you rejected Alicia. Do you feel it now, Max? That emptiness? The bond you severed claws at me still. It was not supposed to be like this.
Max turned sharply, slamming his fist against the stone wall. The sound made Diana flinch.
“Enough,” she snapped, standing. “If you will not speak to me, then at least tell me why you prowl at night, why you wake drenched in sweat, why you look at me as though I am a stranger in your bed.”
Max’s eyes burned with a feral light. For a moment, Tawny surged too close, his voice rumbling through Max’s lips. “Because you are not her.”
The words hung between them like a blade.
Diana froze, her face draining of color. Then fury replaced shock. She strode toward him, her nails flashing. “Her? You mean that wretched omega slave? That pathetic little thing you cast aside like garbage? Do not speak her name in my chambers!”
Max grabbed her wrist mid-swipe, his grip iron. His gaze bore into hers, cold and merciless. “Careful, Diana.”
She wrenched free, trembling with rage. But inside, her fear coiled like a serpent. For the first time, she truly understood: no matter how many ceremonies crowned her Luna, no matter how many silks or jewels adorned her, she would never own his heart.
Because his wolf refused her.
That night, Max’s dreams returned.
He was running through a forest, shadows stretching tall around him, the scent of pine and snow in the air. Tawny ran with him, but there was something else too — a cry, faint but insistent, pulling him forward.
The sound pierced the trees: a child’s cry.
Max’s chest burned. He followed the echo, heart racing, until he burst into a clearing bathed in moonlight. There, upon a bed of furs, lay a small cub — golden-eyed, tiny fists clenched, his wails splitting the night.
Max fell to his knees, trembling. He reached out, desperate to touch the child—
And woke with a roar.
Sweat drenched his skin, his chest heaving. His claws had torn the bedding to shreds, his wolf too close to the surface.
You felt it too, Tawny growled, his voice rough with need. He lives. The cub lives.
Max pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to steady himself. “No. It cannot be. She was cast out. She would have perished.”
But even as he spoke, he knew it was a lie. The bond he had severed with Alicia should have withered. Instead, it burned hotter, sharper, as though tugging him toward something alive. Someone alive.
Fool, Tawny hissed. You threw her away, but fate does not break so easily. Our cub is out there. And he will not forgive you for leaving him unprotected.
Max’s hands shook. Rage and confusion warred inside him. Had Alicia somehow survived? Had she carried his heir into exile?
He thought of Diana beside him, of the hollowness in her gaze when she realized she could not anchor him. He thought of Alicia’s face when he rejected her — the pain, the fire in her eyes.
And the child in his dream.
Golden-eyed, like him.
Max rose abruptly, storming to the wash basin. His reflection glared back at him, feral and restless.
If it was true — if his heir lived — then the Moon Pack’s legacy was at stake. His bloodline. His throne.
And his possession.
Diana, watching from the bed, saw the shift in his expression and felt a chill. She narrowed her eyes, suspicion blooming in her chest. She had fought too hard for her place to let some shadow of the past destroy it.
If Alicia still lived, Diana would find her.
And she would make sure neither Alicia nor her whelp threatened her reign.
By dawn, word had spread through the palace of the Alpha’s fury. Servants whispered in corridors of broken mirrors, of growls echoing through the halls, of the Luna pacing like a caged tigress. The Moon Pack was unsettled, their leaders fracturing before their eyes.
But Max’s thoughts were elsewhere.
Somewhere in the mountains, beyond his reach, his wolf insisted his cub lived.
And the knowledge set his blood ablaze.