His Moon Her Bane

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Nyrielle had dreamed of this day since she was old enough to understand what legacy meant.

The full moon hovered high over the mountaintop citadel of Silverrest pack, bathing the ancient stone keep in a cold, argent light. Fires crackled in braziers along the edges of the courtyard below, casting flickering shadows that danced like ghosts. She had always imagined herself descending the marble steps draped in ceremonial silks, her name announced with pride as the daughter of Alpha Aurex—the hidden heiress, revealed at last. She would stand alongside the other daughters of the great Alphas, no longer a secret, no longer ignored.

But dreams had teeth. And hers had ended up cutting her deeply.

The scent of pine and iron hung in the air, sharp and biting. Nyrielle stood alone in the west corridor, her fingers brushing the scarred hilts of the twin daggers strapped at her hips. She wore no gown, no jewels not that she had ever been allowed to. Instead, her dark combat leathers were smeared with the day’s training—dirt, blood, sweat. Her silver braid was still damp from the river, the place she went to quiet the rage coiled tight inside her chest.

She had been raised differently—hidden from the eyes of the court, trained not in dances and diplomacy, but in blades and brute force. While other Alpha daughters were taught to smile, curtsy, and charm, Nyrielle was taught to kill. Her mother, a rogue-born warrior who dared to love an Alpha, had been cast out when Nyrielle was barely four. Since then, Laura—the Luna who replaced her—ensured Nyrielle remained in the shadows.

But tonight was supposed to change everything.

Twenty-one. The age of inheritance. The age her father, Alpha Aurex, had promised—promised—he would acknowledge her.

Yet no seamstress had come. No summons from the pack council. Not even a whisper of her name on the servants' tongues.

The corridors were too quiet. Ominous. She knew the truth long before she stormed into her father’s chambers.

The heavy oak doors creaked open beneath her shove. Firelight illuminated the faces of the two people inside—the man who gave her life, and the woman who had spent years trying to erase it.

“Aurex,” she said coldly, refusing to call him Father now.

He turned, startled. His silver-threaded hair was combed meticulously back, his formal Alpha robes crisp and regal. But his eyes—once fierce and warm—were dulled, haunted. He opened his mouth, but no words came.

Laura stood beside him, hands folded in a dainty mockery of grace, her lips painted red like blood. The Luna’s posture was perfect, as always. But her eyes glittered with something akin to triumph.

“You promised me,” Nyrielle said, voice low, barely controlled. Her fists trembled at her sides.

“Nyrielle…” Aurex began, his voice hoarse.

“You promised me!” Her voice cracked like a whip. “You told me—looked me in the eye and swore! That on my twenty-first birthday, I would be named. That I would stand with them as your daughter. As the rightful heir!”

Aurex’s shoulders slumped. His hands, so strong once, now hung useless at his sides. “It’s not that simple…”

Nyrielle scoffed, eyes burning. “It was always simple. You just chose her over me.”

Laura stepped forward, ever composed. “You must understand, child,” she said smoothly. “Your presence would… complicate things. The pack remembers your mother. They remember the disgrace. It is better for all that you remain where you belong.”

“And where is that, Laura?” Nyrielle spat, turning on her. “In the shadows? Among the warriors, bruised and bloodied, while you parade your daughters in silks? I bled for this pack. I trained harder than any of your sons. I earned this.”

“You were trained because you were unsuitable for court,” Laura said coolly, her mask unshaken. “We had to make the best of an unfortunate situation.”

Nyrielle laughed—harsh and hollow. “Unfortunate? You starved me. Hit me. Lied to me. Told the others I was cursed. You exiled my mother and blamed me for every bad thing that happened to this pack.”

Aurex closed his eyes, flinching. “Nyrielle, please…”

“No,” she growled, stepping forward. “You let her. You let her beat me down for years. And you said nothing. You call yourself Alpha, but you’re just a shell. A coward.”

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Laura’s eyes narrowed. “Mind your tongue, girl.”

Nyrielle’s voice dropped into a deadly whisper. “Or what? You’ll exile me too? Strip me of everything I’ve never had?”

Aurex moved toward her, pain carved into every line of his face. “I tried to protect you. You don’t understand the burden I carry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t talk to me about burdens. I was the dirty secret you kept caged in the barracks while your Luna whispered poison in your ear.”

Laura’s lip curled. “Enough of this drama. You are not the only daughter of an Alpha. The pack needs stability, not scandal.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Nyrielle snapped.

“Watch your tongue,” he had warned, though his tone lacked its usual authority. “She is my Luna.”

“And I am your daughter.”

A bitter silence had stretched between them while they glared daggers at one another.

“I told you I would present you when the time was right.”

Her laugh had been hollow, sharp. “When the time was right? Or when she wasn’t around to stop you?”

"What's wrong Alpha Aurex," Nyrielle asked calling him by his title mockingly. "Scared your mate will run to her father and you'll lose out on all the riches they gave to the pack?"

Laura had stepped in then, her saccharine voice laced with venom. “This is why you don’t belong, Nyrielle. You’re wild. Unruly. Do you really think the packs would accept an illegitimate child?”

The words had stung, but Nyrielle had long grown numb to the Luna’s cruelty. “You’re just afraid they’ll see me and realize that I’m twice the Luna you’ll ever be.”

The slap had come fast, the sting blooming across her cheek. But she hadn’t cowered. She had bared her teeth, and before she could stop herself, a growl had ripped from her throat. Even though Nyrielle hadn't shifted into her wolf then, Laura stepped back in fear of what Nyrielle would do.

But Nyrielle simply stood there, waiting on her father to say something, do something in her defense but he made no move. He couldn't even look her in the eyes to silently apologize like he normally would. Her father just allowed her to be slapped with not a word...

Nyrielle cleared her throat, trying to control the burning rage in her chest. "I will be presented with the other Alphas' daughters as is the tradition. If not, then my reaction will not be as civilized as I have behaved this moment," she said to her father, the threat spoken in cold steel.

Nyrielle turned her gaze to Laura and in a low and guttural voice she spoke. "If you ever put your hands on me again, I will defend myself and my father wouldn't be able to save you."

And then it happened.

A shudder wracked her body. She staggered back, gripping the table for support. Her vision darkened around the edges, her breath caught in her throat. Pain bloomed in her chest—white-hot, wild, familiar. Not fear.

The Shift.

Her first.

“Nyrielle—” Aurex’s voice turned sharp, urgent. “You must not do this now. You must control it.”

But it was too late.

Bones cracked. Her spine arched backward. A scream tore from her throat, morphing mid-sound into a growl. Her skin rippled, peeled back, giving way to fur as white as the moon. The transformation was violent, brutal—beyond anything the old tales or mentors prepared her for.

When it ended, she stood on all fours, panting. Her paws were massive, claws razor-sharp, body cloaked in ghost-pale fur that shimmered under the moonlight.

The chamber stilled.

Silence.

Aurex stared, pale as ash.

Laura’s hand flew to her throat. “A Moon Wolf…” she gasped. “That’s not possible.”

It was. A rare, ancient bloodline—long believed extinct. A sign that the Goddesses were returning favor to the creatures who abandoned them...

Nyrielle growled low in her throat, the primal sound vibrating through the stone walls.

Then without warning, Nyrielle lunged.

Laura screamed as Nyrielle crashed into her, pinning her to the floor. Her fangs glinted, inches from the Luna’s throat, her claws tearing through silk and flesh. Blood burst into the air, hot and heady. Laura’s shrieks filled the chamber, but Nyrielle’s mind was drowned in fury, years of injustice culminating in this one savage moment.

She would end her. She wanted to end her.

Nyrielle would've succeeded if a crushing force hadn't slammed into her side.

She tumbled across the stone floor, colliding with the hearth. Her wolf body writhed as she tried to recover—but Aurex was already standing over her, arm bleeding, eyes wild.

“Enough!” he roared, Alpha-command lacing his voice.

The power of it struck like a blow. She stilled.

His eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “You are my daughter,” he said softly, brokenly. “But if you kill her… you’ll be nothing but the beast she says you are.”

Nyrielle trembled, chest heaving. Blood dripped from her maw.

She turned her head slowly to Laura’s crumpled form. The woman whimpered, face torn, eyes wide with terror. For the first time in her life, Laura looked afraid.

Nyrielle met Aurex’s eyes once more. And then, without a sound, she turned and leapt through the window, shattering it, into the night.

Her white form vanished into the trees.

The howls that followed split the sky.

*

The rabbit lay still at her feet, its blood warm against the forest floor, soaking into the earth like a silent offering to the night. Nyrielle stood over the small body, her breath ragged in the cold air. Her chest rose and fell with the rush of the hunt—not from fear or regret, but from a fierce, wild exhilaration that burned in her veins like fire.

This had come naturally to her, too naturally. She hadn’t needed to think—her body had simply moved, guided by something ancient and buried deep within her bones. Her ears had caught the soft shuffle of paws on damp leaves. Her nose had flared with the scent of prey. Her limbs had flowed over the forest floor like water over stone, silent and precise.

But it wasn’t the kill that left her stunned.

It was her own reflection that left her awe-struck.

Nyrielle padded silently to the edge of the stream that wound like a ribbon of silver through the woods. Moonlight rippled across the surface, fractured by the current. She leaned forward, and the sight that met her gaze made her stumble back, breath hitching in her throat.

Snow-white fur, gleaming under the moon’s touch, clung to her lithe form—pristine, unblemished, unnatural. Her eyes, always a strange, stormy shade of silver, now glowed with a soft, supernatural light, like starlight trapped in glass. She stared, heart thundering in her chest.

No. It couldn’t be, she exclaimed to herself.

But the truth shimmered in the stream.

A Moon Wolf.

She had heard the old tales, the whispered stories told by warriors and weavers alike, passed around the fire during the coldest nights. Stories of wolves born under the Moon’s direct gaze, gifted with strength beyond comprehension, destined for greatness—or ruin. But they were legends. Fables to hush restless pups and stir fear in the hearts of old Alphas.

No one truly believed in Moon Wolves anymore.

And yet, here she stood.

The truth rooted itself deep in her chest, and for a heartbeat, she couldn’t breathe. Not from fear—but from knowing. She was different. She had always been. And now the proof gleamed back at her in silver and white.

She clenched her jaw, her mind spiraling. What would he do now?

Aurex.

Her father.

Alpha of the Silverrest Pack.

She could already see it—the cold calculation in his eyes, the way his hands would tighten around the arms of his throne. He wouldn’t see her, not truly. Not as his daughter. Not as the girl who had once begged for his approval. He would see her as a weapon. A claim. A prize to parade before the other Alphas.

Her claws tore into the earth, her wolf snarling in her chest.

She wouldn’t be used.

She had been trained like a soldier, not out of love or belief in her potential, but out of necessity. She had never been allowed to attend the elegant luncheons or join the Luna’s court like the other Alpha daughters. No, Laura—the Luna, the snake—had made sure of that. She had whispered lies into Aurex’s ear until he believed them.

“Let her learn to fight,” Laura had said. “That’s all she’s good for.”

So Nyrielle had fought.

She trained harder than any of the males, bested seasoned warriors twice her age, shattered bone and ego alike. If she could not be cherished, she would be feared. And now, this—this Moon Wolf blood—had sealed her fate.

She was something they would try to control.

But they had no idea what she had become.