I wore black. Not for mourning, though maybe I should have. It was Kael’s uniform—tunic, leggings, boots threaded with silver. He’d sent a sash too, the Stormveil crest stitched across it, but I left it on the dresser. I wasn’t his color. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

The hall outside my quarters felt too narrow, torches throwing shadows against stone. If they wanted to weigh me, to measure me, I would not walk in small. I lifted my chin and moved as if the floor belonged to me. Even if it didn’t.

Corin waited at the chamber doors, unreadable as ever.

“They’ll ask questions,” he said.

“I can answer questions.”

“Don’t answer them all.”

That stopped me. “Why?”

“Because answers are power. And you don’t know who’s hungry yet.”

Before I could press, the doors opened.

The council chamber was darker than I expected. Stone carved into a half-circle, tall windows letting in light that somehow didn’t reach the floor. Seven chairs. Seven elders. Kael stood to the side, silent as carved granite.

The elders didn’t smile. Didn’t bow. They only stared.

“She’s smaller than I expected,” one muttered.

“She’s bondless,” another snapped. “A contract doesn’t make a Luna.”

“Then why do I feel it?” The voice came from a scarred woman, eyes sharp enough to cut. A line ran from her temple to collarbone, old and brutal. She studied me like she could peel the skin from my bones.

Kael’s voice cut across the chamber. “Because the bond is in her blood, not her title.”

The words dropped heavy. Smoke in air.

I stood straighter. My throat felt tight, but my voice didn’t waver. “I’m not your Luna. I’m here because your Alpha made a deal. I intend to honor it.”

A tall elder with a permanent sneer smirked. “How noble.”

I met his eyes. “How inconvenient.”

Murmurs rippled.

Kael didn’t flinch. “Dismissed.”

And just like that, it ended.

Or so I thought.

Outside, the courtyard pressed quiet. That’s when I noticed him—leaning against a wall, black cloak draped over his frame, sword strapped to his back. His eyes were pale as ice. Watching.

I walked past. He followed.

Down stairs. Through an empty hall. Into the old wing where healers once lived.

“You’re following me,” I said without turning.

“No,” he replied. His voice was low, edged. “I’m watching you.”

I spun on him. “There’s a difference?”

“Watching doesn’t mean trust. Following does.”

He stepped forward, each pace deliberate. The air tightened.

“Rowen Vale,” he said.

“Kael’s Beta.”

He dipped his head once.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what you are.”

“I’m the girl your Alpha paid for.”

“Liar.”

The word stung less than the certainty in his tone. His gaze pinned me like he’d seen through every breath I’d ever taken. Then, just as sudden, he turned and left. No threat. No explanation.

I hated how my pulse refused to calm.

I found myself in the library an hour later. Not reading. Just… searching. Thinking.

Stormveil’s library wasn’t Ashfall’s. No velvet ropes, no polished cases. The shelves leaned with age, books scarred and smudged by too many hands. Some were in languages I couldn’t recognize.

One book was left open on the far table. Its title burned off. The picture showed a woman standing over three wolves, each marked with a different crescent.

The words beneath had been scratched out.

I flipped the page.

There it was again.

Moonbound.

The same word I’d heard in the woods. The same word carved beneath my skin in dreams.

I tore the scrap and copied it down. Maybe I’d ask Kael. If I ever trusted him enough.

Which I didn’t.

Not yet.

That night, the scent came again. Pine. Stone. Blood. I jolted awake, heart pounding.

Something scuffed against stone outside my door.

I rose, dagger in hand, opened the door in one smooth pull—

Nothing.

No one.

But above the doorframe, carved fresh, still red, were three crescents.

One whole.

One broken.

One bleeding.

I touched the grooves. My fingers came away wet.

Still bleeding.

At breakfast, Kael said nothing of it. He only looked at me once, eyes unreadable, and asked, “What did you dream?”

I didn’t ask how he knew.

“I saw a girl standing in water,” I said carefully. “She wasn’t drowning.”

He nodded once. “She was choosing.”

Later, Corin handed me a folded cloth. “Someone left this at the altar,” he said. “Said it was yours.”

Inside lay a ribbon. Blackened on one end, edges scorched.

My breath caught. I hadn’t seen it in years. It had been tied around my wrist as a child, a pack ritual meant to welcome me into Ashfall’s future.

It should have burned with the rest of my name.

But here it was.

That night, the pendant reappeared. Not on the table. On my pillow. Cold as frost.

This time I put it on.

And when I dreamed, the three wolves returned. Not enemies. Choices.

They circled me. Waiting.

Each bore a crescent on its chest. Whole. Broken. Bleeding.

When I reached for them, the sky split open. And I heard a voice call my name.

Not Lyra.

Something older. Something not mine.

I woke gasping, hand clutching the pendant.

And on my door, where the crescents had been carved, new words had been scratched deep into the wood:

You don’t belong to anyone.