Blood Moon Betrayal

The Perimeter

"You are going to the border," Cassian said.

He did not look at me as I stood in the mud outside the pack house. He held a rusted spear and a heavy leather satchel. The morning air was sharp, but the cold inside my chest was worse. The rejection had left a physical hollow in my ribs that throbbed with every heartbeat.

"Station Four," Cassian continued. "The North Line. You start at sunrise. You stay until you are relieved."

"Station Four is a death sentence," I said.

That part of the territory was a graveyard of jagged stone and freezing mist. It was where the pack sent the wolves they wanted to disappear. There was no shelter, no warmth, and no backup.

"It is the Alpha’s order," Cassian replied. He finally looked at me, and I saw a flicker of pity in his eyes before he masked it. "If you miss a single marker, it is considered desertion. You know the penalty."

The penalty was execution. Silas wasn't just punishing me. He was waiting for an

excuse to finish me.

I took the spear and the pack. I did not say another word. I turned away from the main house and began the long trek up the mountain. I felt eyes on my back. I knew Silas was standing on his balcony, watching me walk toward the wasteland. He wanted to see me stumble. He wanted to see the daughter of a traitor break under the weight of his cruelty.

I did not stumble.

I reached Station Four by noon. The wind howled through a deep ravine that separated our lands from the No-Man’s Land.

I spent hours hauling heavy stones to reinforce the boundary markers. The black thorns of the bushes tore at my hands and my clothes. By the time the sun began to set, my palms were slick with blood.

I was kneeling in the dirt, trying to hammer a wooden stake into the frozen ground, when the air around me grew heavy. I didn't need to look up to know who was there. The scent of pine and rain flooded my senses, making the broken bond in my chest flare with agonizing heat.

"You are still here," Silas said.

He was leaning against a twisted tree. He looked at my bleeding hands and my tattered tunic with an unreadable expression.

"I have a job to do," I said. I didn't stop working.

"You are stubborn," he said. He walked toward me. Each step he took felt like a hammer blow to my heart. "Most wolves would have crossed the river by now. They would have taken their chances with the rogues rather than stay here and rot."

"I am a Blackthorn wolf," I said. I stood up and faced him. I was covered in dirt and blood, but I held my head high. "I am not a coward, Silas. And I am not a guest. I belong to this land as much as you do."

Silas growled. It was a low, dangerous sound that vibrated in the air. He stepped into my space, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. He grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my skin.

"You belong nowhere," he hissed. "You are Thorne. You are waiting for an opening. You are waiting for me to turn my back so you can finish what your father started."

"If I wanted you dead, I would have let you bleed out three years ago," I reminded him.

His grip tightened. His eyes flashed a lethal gold. "That was a debt. It is paid. Leave, June. Cross the river tonight and I will not hunt you. This is your only warning."

"No."

He shoved me back. I hit the jagged bark of a tree, but I didn't fall. Silas stared at me for a long moment. The anger in his eyes was warring with something else, a flicker of confusion that he quickly smothered. He shifted into a massive black wolf and vanished into the trees without a sound.

I sat on the cold ground and gripped my spear. I was alone, exhausted, and marked for death. But as I watched the moon rise over the ravine, I knew oneNothing for certain.

I was not leaving.