The Moon Remembers Everything They said the moon was cruel. That she watched the world not with compassion, but with cold detachment, casting silver light upon the worst of sins and never once turning away. Elara had always believed that. From the moment she could walk, her life had been a chorus of slaps, silence, and shadow. She never knew a mother's touch or a father’s embrace. Only fists. Only orders. Only fear. They called her cursed. A foundling. A mistake the Alpha never should’ve taken in. The silver crescent on her wrist? Proof she was wrong. Unclean. Marked by something unnatural. Each time she bled, they blamed the moon. Each time she cried, they silenced her. Each time she looked up at the sky, praying for the pain to end, the moon just stared back. Cold. Distant. Unfeeling. Until the night everything changed. Until the night the Lycan King came. He arrived with storms in his eyes and blood on his scent. And when his gaze found hers—broken, chained, and kneeling in dirt—the moonlight did something it never had before. It warmed. It pulsed. And Kael Thorne, the terror of the realm, uttered one word that shattered her world: "Mine."