CHAPTER FOUR
988 Words
DAMIAN'S POV
I was a fool to think claiming her would be simple.
One look at Alessia Moonglade and the pack expected a scandal — a pretty face to drape across my throne, a Luna to parade at festivals so they’d forget how much blood I’ve spilled for them.
They don’t know her the way I do.
Or the way my wolf does.
I stand in my study long after I should be reviewing border patrols, staring at the faint scratch marks on my desk. Tiny scars left by my father’s claws in a rage years ago — when the council forced him to bend a knee or die on that very rug.
He chose death.
I chose never to kneel.
And now I’ve dragged a girl with iron in her spine and ruin in her blood right into the mouth of every wolf waiting for me to fall.
A knock pulls me out of my thoughts.
Lira pushes in without waiting for permission. Only she dares.
“You look like a man chewing glass,” she says, dropping a pile of parchment on my desk. Patrol reports. Grain shipments. Rebellion rumors that taste too real these days.
“Have they settled?” I ask.
“Define settled.” She folds her arms. “Half the pack thinks she’s a curse. The other half wants to see if she’ll gut you in your sleep.”
“Good,” I say.
She raises a brow. “Good?”
“If they fear her, they’ll watch their throats. They’ve grown soft.”
She snorts. “Says the wolf who just bought a caged Luna with more fangs than sense.”
“Careful, Lira.”
She smiles sweetly. “I’m always careful, Alpha.”
She drops her voice as she leans closer. “Rowen’s stirring them again.”
“Let him stir. He likes the sound of his own voice.”
“This isn’t just noise anymore, Damian. He says you’ve broken the old codes by forcing a Luna who doesn’t bear your mark.”
I grit my teeth. “I forced nothing.”
“Try telling that to wolves who think the only law worth blood is an Alpha’s right to claim.”
Her words hit harder than she means them to. My wolf paces behind my ribs, restless at the thought of Alessia branded with my mark — the teeth, the blood, the bond that can’t be undone.
Not yet.
Not like this.
A sharp rap interrupts us. One of my guards bows low at the door.
“Speak.”
“My Alpha — Rowen has been seen near the western barracks. Talking to young bloods again. Some of ours.”
I stand so fast my chair tips. Lira doesn’t flinch.
“Bring him to the courtyard. Now.”
The guard bolts.
Lira watches me, eyes narrowed. “Don’t kill him where the pups can see.”
“I won’t.”
She smirks. “Liar.”
Outside, night drips silver across Blackthorn stone. Wolves pause when I pass — bowing, averting eyes. They smell the storm in my scent and know better than to meet it head-on.
I find Rowen exactly where I expect: lounging by the practice yard’s well, spitting half-truths to a handful of restless young wolves whose ears crave rebellion more than reason.
He doesn’t bow when I approach.
Of course he doesn’t.
“Alpha,” he drawls, voice slick as oil. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I grab him by the throat.
The pups scatter like startled rabbits.
I slam Rowen against the well’s cold stone. He grunts but laughs — the sound bright with venom.
“What’s wrong, Blackthorn? Afraid your little moon girl will see the real you?”
“Keep my Luna’s name off your tongue if you want to keep it.”
“Your Luna?” He coughs around my grip. “She isn’t marked. She isn’t yours. You can’t tame that blood — it’ll drown us all.”
He’s right about one thing: her blood will drown someone. But not me.
I tighten my hold until his skin bruises under my thumb. My wolf pushes forward, urging me to rip out his throat now — end the whispering before it festers.
But I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my teeth.
Not yet.
I lean in, voice silk wrapped around steel. “One day soon, you’ll kneel before her or you’ll beg me for the mercy I won’t give.”
Rowen bares his teeth in a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You think you own her? She’s not the curse you chained — she’s the ruin you invited through your gates.”
I slam him harder once, for my wolf’s sake, then release him.
He stumbles, coughing, throat blotched purple.
The other wolves stand frozen, wide-eyed.
“Listen well,” I say to them, my voice carrying across the courtyard. “Follow him and share his grave. Follow me, and I swear on moon and marrow — no one will chain your children as the Council once chained you.”
They bow.
Rowen does not.
I leave him there, coughing blood into the dirt he’ll soon feed.
Back in my chamber, the fire flickers too low to warm the ice coiling under my skin.
I close my eyes. I see her — the girl pacing her room above my head, planning my ruin and wearing my name like a collar she’s sharpening into a knife.
Good.
I don’t want a docile Luna.
I want a wolf that makes the world remember why the Blackthorn line never bows.
A soft knock at my door.
A scout’s voice trembles through the wood:
“Alpha — you need to see this. It’s… it’s about her.”
I open my eyes.
And I know before he says another word —
Alessia is already slipping through my hands.
- Writer
