The Bondbreaker Luna

They Locked Me Out

By six the next morning, Ridgefall had changed every password I owned. I discovered it barefoot in my mother's kitchen, holding cold coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. Outside, a local news van idled across from the orchard gate while Mrs. Bell pretended to water dead winter herbs and watched every movement through her front window. Two teenagers slowed their bikes to stare at the house where the rejected almost-Luna had spent the night.

Ridgefall could erase my credentials before breakfast. Gossip had beaten them by an hour.

REGISTRY ACCESS REVOKED.

PACK NETWORK ACCESS REVOKED.

CIVIC STAFF CREDENTIALS SUSPENDED PENDING REVIEW. The notices arrived in polite language that made me want to throw my phone. I tried the land portal next and got one more message.

ACCOUNT UNDER ADMINISTRATIVE HOLD.

"Of course."

My voice sounded strange in the empty kitchen. The room still looked as though Mom might walk in and ask why I was swearing before breakfast. Her blue mug sat behind the glass cabinet door because I had never found a reason to move it. A grocery list from three years ago remained stuck to the refrigerator beneath a pear-shaped magnet. Milk. Rice. Soap. Call Wren about gutters. She died before she called.

My phone buzzed again. Rowan: *Don't freak out.* I called him immediately.

"That phrase has never prevented anyone from freaking out."

"I panicked while typing it."

Keyboards clicked behind him. Somebody argued near the registry printers, and another voice kept asking where Hollis wanted the archived boxes.

"Where are you?"

"At work. Technically." Rowan lowered his voice. "Hollis has security watching your desk. They boxed your things."

I closed my eyes.

"My mother's fountain pen is in the top drawer."

"I already stole it."

"Rowan."

"Borrowed it aggressively. I also rescued your plant. It looked judgmental."

A smile escaped before I could stop it, and Rowan had that effect on disasters. He never made them smaller. He simply refused to let them become the only thing in the room.

"Thank you."

"Wren, Soren signed the suspension at four twelve this morning."

The smile died. Four hours after publicly rejecting me, he had been awake removing me from the life I'd built beside him. He always moved fast when a decision had finally been made. I used to admire that about him.

"Anything else?"

Rowan waited too long.

"Your apartment access is gone too."

I stared through the kitchen window at the rain-dark yard. The apartment sat above the registry annex and belonged to the pack. I had lived there for five years, and my toothbrush was still in the bathroom. A half-read novel lay open on the sofa. Soren's spare key sat in the kitchen drawer because he used to come after council meetings and eat whatever I had cooked.

"My clothes?"

"Tessa's handling it. She told security she'd break fingers if they touched your underwear."

"She said that?"

"She used richer language."

A knock hit the back door hard enough to make me jump. Tessa let herself in before I reached it. She carried two plastic storage tubs and wore a raincoat over pajama pants.

"Your bras survived the coup," she announced.

Rowan laughed through the phone. Tessa took it from my hand.

"Go do your job, criminal."

"I am doing my job."

"You stole government property."

"A pen and a fern."

She hung up on him and put the tubs on the floor. The top one held sweaters, jeans, my old running shoes, and a framed picture of Mom and me at the registry Christmas party. Tessa had wrapped the glass in one of my bath towels.

"They were going to inventory everything," she said. "Inventory means strangers deciding which part of your life belongs in which cardboard box. I objected."

"How loudly?"

"Security learned several useful words."

I sat on the edge of a chair. The sight of my clothes broke something the access notices hadn't touched. Yesterday morning I left that apartment expecting to sleep there after Soren's succession. I had washed the sheets. Bought the stupid expensive coffee he liked. Put a bottle of wine in the fridge because I thought we'd finally have one night without campaign staff, council members, or his mother calling about seating charts.

Tessa crouched in front of me. I caught the sleeve of her raincoat before I realized I had moved, and she covered my hand with hers.

"I don't know what to do," I said.

"Socks first. Your feet are blue. Water after that. Then we decide who deserves swearing at."

I laughed once, badly, and put on socks. Tessa's phone buzzed three times before she reached the door. She swore at the third message, said one of her brides had changed the sleeves again, and left at a run. The kitchen went quiet after her. I stared at Mom's grocery list until Rowan texted again.

*Turn on the news. Seriously.*

I opened the local feed. My own face filled the screen. The still showed me standing while the entire assembly hall knelt around me. REJECTED LUNA DEFIES ALPHA COMMAND AS MYSTERIOUS CROWN MARK APPEARS. Another headline rolled beneath it. LYCAN KING HALTS RIDGEFALL SUCCESSION CERTIFICATION.

I sat up. The reporter stood outside the assembly hall, where three satellite vans now occupied half the square. "Crown officials issued an emergency preservation order shortly after midnight, freezing Ridgefall's succession record, the disputed Calloway property transfer, and all mate-bond documents connected to Wren Calloway pending review."

A preservation order. Aurek had frozen the land, and the feed cut to Soren leaving council headquarters. He looked terrible. His shirt collar sat crooked and there were shadows under his eyes. I should have enjoyed it. Instead, the old reflex came first. Had he slept? Had he eaten? I hated myself for caring before I hated him for making me care. A reporter shoved a microphone toward his face.

"Alpha Hale, did you know Ms. Calloway was immune to your command?"

"No comment."

"Is she still your mate?"

His shoulders tightened. "The rejection was performed according to Ridgefall law." Something pulsed beneath my collarbone. Soren flinched on the screen and touched the same place. I froze. My throat tightened a second before Soren gripped the edge of his desk. Heat followed under my ribs, sharp enough to make me brace a hand on the table. Then something smaller brushed through the bond and vanished before I could name it.

Relief. He could still feel me, and my stomach turned. I killed the feed just as a car door shut outside. The lane ended at the orchard, and nobody arrived here by accident. Another door closed, followed by footsteps on the wet path. I grabbed the cast-iron pan from beside the stove because my mother had raised me to respect practical weapons. Three knocks sounded at the front door.

"Wren Calloway? Crown security."

I stayed behind the door. "Show identification through the camera." A card appeared on the doorbell feed. Tavian Orr, Chief of Crown Security. Behind him stood two guards and the elegant older man from yesterday. Gareth Vane. The King's uncle. I opened the door three inches and kept the chain on. Tavian looked at the frying pan and lifted one eyebrow.

"Good morning."

"Depends."

"Fair."

Gareth's gaze moved past me toward the kitchen, and he stopped breathing for half a beat.

"Elin kept the yellow curtains."

My hand tightened around the door.

"You knew my mother?"

His eyes came back to mine. For one second, the statesman disappeared and left an old man behind.

"I did."

"How well?"

Tavian glanced at him. Gareth's mouth thinned. "Well enough that I should have come here three years ago." The mark on my neck warmed. My phone rang from the kitchen. Soren. His panic struck so hard that I nearly dropped the pan. Gareth watched my face change.

"He's feeling you already," he murmured.

I stared at him.

"Already?"

His expression closed a fraction too late.