RETURN OF THE BANISHED LUNA

5

DAPHNE:

“...she is hereby banished from the Ashveil Pack. She is stripped of every title, every privilege, and she is forbidden from ever setting foot on these lands again.”

Harry's cracked voice hung over the courtyard as he looked at me, his chest heaving.

I felt my heart split in two as I shook my head. My wolf huffed in pain.

“Alpha Prince...” an elder began.

“I have made my decision!” he roared, and everything went silent.

Then he turned to face me fully, his hands clenched into fists so tightly that I feared they might break.

My heart stopped.

I realized exactly what he was about to do.

“No,” I whispered, frantically shaking my head as fresh tears spilled over my bruised cheeks. I clutched at the fabric of his shirt, my fingers digging in desperately. “Harry, please. Don't. Please don't do this to me. You know I didn't do it.”

Harry's mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, the raw love he still held for me fighting against the overwhelming weight of the evidence before him. He was a prince, and the weight of an entire kingdom was forcing his hand.

“I, Harry Ashveil, future Alpha of the Ashveil Pack,” he began, his voice cracking, thick with a pain that matched my own, “hereby reject you, Daphne Harold, as my mate.”

The pain was instant, like nothing I had ever felt, violently ripping through my chest.

An agonizing scream tore from my throat as the pain boiled through my veins. My wolf whimpered inside my mind before retreating into the deepest, darkest corner of my consciousness, curling up to die.

Across from me, Harry stumbled back a step. A sharp gasp left his lips as the pain of the severed bond hit him just as hard. His hands twitched as though every instinct screamed at him to come to me, but he forced himself to remain where he stood.

No one came to my aid. No one helped me as my vision began to blur. From the corner of my eye, I saw Veronica. She had beaten me at my own game. I had destroyed myself by forcing this mate bond to happen. I had underestimated her power and how quickly she could move.

She had won.

Guards rushed toward me, dragging me toward the massive gates without caring whether I lived or died.

My eyes searched desperately for Harry one last time.

He was still standing where I had left him.

Our eyes met.

For one impossible moment, I prayed he would stop them.

He never moved.

The palace doors slowly shut behind him.

We reached the borders, and the guards threw me across the line, casting me out. The gates slammed shut, leaving me in a world I had never known.

The impact with the ground sent a fresh jolt of pain through my battered body, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. I collapsed against the damp ground, my fingers digging into the dirt as a sob wracked my body.

The rejection pain was entirely overwhelming, suffocating my senses until I could barely think. I was weak, shivering beneath a ruined bedsheet, and completely alone.

For a long time, I just lay there, listening to the wind sweep through the trees. I honestly believed this was where it would end. I believed the grief would simply stop my heart, and the forest would swallow my body.

But a tiny, stubborn part of my father's blood refused to let me lie there and rot.

Slowly, I forced myself to crawl. I pushed myself up onto my trembling knees, using a nearby tree trunk to drag my weight upward. My vision swam, but I forced my feet to move.

One agonizing step after another, I began walking blindly into the deep woods, having no destination or plan.

Suddenly, a growl echoed through the night, shaking the trees.

I stopped in my tracks instantly as the bushes rattled. Then, a massive, mangy wolf stepped into the dim light.

His horrible stench swam through my nostrils. He was a rogue.

His yellow eyes locked onto my battered form, immediately recognizing that I was weak and alone.

He didn't hesitate.

With a terrifying snarl, he launched himself forward, lunging straight for my throat.

I tried to reach for my wolf to fight back, but there was nothing there. The rejection had left her completely hollowed out and far too weak.

I threw my arms up to protect my face as the rogue slammed into me, knocking me flat onto the forest floor. His heavy paws pinned my shoulders into the dirt, and his dripping jaws snapped inches from my face.

I struggled against his weight, but my strength failed me.

As his teeth scraped against the skin of my shoulder, a cold acceptance washed over me.

This is it, I thought, closing my eyes. I am finally going to die.

Then, a strange sound echoed through the air.

Instantly, the heavy weight pressing down on my chest vanished.

The rogue let out a choked yelp, his body stiffening before he collapsed sideways onto the dirt, completely motionless.

My eyes flew open, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

I looked at the dead wolf, then slowly raised my head.

There was a man.

But he wasn't a werewolf.

I could tell by the weapon he held in his hand. I had never seen anything like it before. A faint blue light glowed from the device.

A witch?

He stepped toward me, lowering the strange weapon.

Terrified, I scrambled backward against the roots of a large tree, gripping the bedsheet tightly against my chest.

“Please,” I wept, my voice a broken, pathetic whisper. “Please, don't kill me. Just leave me alone.”

The man stopped walking.

He looked down at the strange weapon in his hands, then carefully slung it over his shoulder, showing me his open palms.

“Relax,” he said in a calm tone. “I don't kill women in need.”

He paused, a smile forming on his lips.

“Even if they are werewolves.”

My throat bobbed.

“My name is Daniel Crane,” he said. “I'm human.”

He stepped closer, and I pressed my back against the tree with nowhere left to go.

“Let me help you. Your wounds are fresh.”

My body remained tense.

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because I run a small refugee camp where we rescue lost pups and werewolves like you. The forest is riddled with rogues, and this”—he gestured toward the dead wolf—“won't be the last attack.”

I looked around at the forest and then at the state I was in, knowing I had nothing left to lose.

Either way, I was going to die.

“Fine,” I muttered.

“What's your name?”

I looked back over my shoulder, staring through the thick canopy of trees toward the distant walls of the pack, Kingdom, remembering the coldness I had faced there.

Daphne Harold died today, I told myself.

Then I looked up at him and sucked in a deep breath.

“My name is Kate Miles."