The Rejected Luna's Secret Heirs

Chapter 12: At the Sovereign’s Gate

The courtyard of the Crescent Pack house was engulfed in tension, lit only by torchfire and the silver glare of the full moon. Guards stood lined along the stone ramparts, crossbows drawn and silver-tipped spears held ready. Beyond the heavy iron gates stood King Roderick and his vanguard—a towering battalion of Northern Lycans draped in heavy armor and dark fur cloaks.

Evelyn stepped out onto the upper balcony, Luke on her left flank and Gamma Thomas on her right. Below them, the court held its breath.

Roderick sat atop a massive black war-horse, his battle-scarred face illuminated by the flickering flames. He looked less like a king and more like a conqueror, his yellow eyes tracking Evelyn the moment she appeared.

"Luna Evelyn," Roderick’s deep voice echoed across the open courtyard, carrying an unnatural Alpha power that made the stone beneath her feet hum. "Or should I address you as the exile who stole the crown jewels of the North?"

Luke’s jaw clenched, his hand moving instinctively toward the hilt of his blade. "Watch your tongue, Roderick," Luke warned, his own Alpha aura flaring to shield Evelyn. "You stand on Crescent land."

Roderick laughed—a low, booming sound that held no humor. "Crescent land? Alpha Luke, your borders are porous, and your pack is fractured. Do not pretend you hold sway here when the woman beside you commands her own private army at your perimeter. I am not here for you, Luke. I am here for what she hid in the shadows for five long years."

Evelyn gripped the cold stone of the balcony rail. She felt the heavy gaze of every warrior in the courtyard turn toward her, waiting to see if she would break. Instead, she leaned forward, her voice ringing clear and steady over the murmur of the crowd.

"If you came seeking meekness, King Roderick, you came five years too late," Evelyn called down, her tone devoid of fear. "My children are under my protection. Any hand raised toward them will meet the full force of the Eastern Alliance—and every blade loyal to my bloodline."

Roderick’s yellow eyes narrowed slightly. He hadn't expected her to hold her ground so fiercely in front of her former mate.

"An alliance of rogues and outcasts will not save you when the Royal Council learns what those twin boys carry," Roderick countered, taking a slow step forward on his mount. "They bear the Mark of the First King. That is not pack business, Evelyn. That is an affair of the realm. Deliver them to the Northern Court for their rightful training, or I will consider the Crescent Pack in open rebellion."

A heavy silence fell over the yard. Luke stepped directly in front of Evelyn, blocking Roderick's line of sight, his voice cold as steel.

"Then prepare for rebellion," Luke declared. "Because neither she nor those boys leave this pack without stepping over my corpse."

Evelyn looked at Luke’s back, a sharp pang of conflict piercing her chest. For five years, she had relied only on herself. Now, faced with an empire, her greatest protector was the very man who had once cast her out.

Roderick drew his broadsword, its polished silver edge gleaming in the torchlight. "So be it. You have until dawn to surrender the heirs, Alpha. At first light, the Northern Court takes what is theirs."