Chasing the rejected Luna

Chapter three

Isabella worked frantically, her blood-stained hands applying more silver-leaf paste directly to the gashes on the pregnant woman's throat. The sickly steam continued to rise, but the woman’s skin grew colder by the second.

"Go to the outskirts of the Mainstream pack!" Isabella barked, pointing violently at one of the broad-shouldered men. "My father is there healing war victims. Get him! Fast!"

The man didn't hesitate. He dropped to all fours, his spine cracking violently as his human clothes tore into shreds, shifting back into a wolf mid-stride before sprinting into the darkness.

Isabella pressed two fingers to the woman's neck, her heart hammering against her ribs. The pulse was a faint, dying flutter.

Minutes stretched like agony until a sleek, shiny grey wolf rushed into the clearing, a medium-sized wolf Isabella knew all too well. Santiago. Without breaking stride, Santiago darted behind the oak tree to grab shorts from the wooden stash, shifting back to human form so fast he nearly stumbled as he adjusted his clothes. He practically threw himself into the dirt beside Isabella, his gnarled hands pressing against the woman's cold face and swollen belly. Before Santiago could even speak, quiet, deliberate footsteps echoed from the treeline.

A man in refined velvet and leather armor stepped into the faint lantern light. He wasn't rushing. His stride was unnaturally calm for someone whose heavily pregnant wife lay dying in the mud. Lord Gonzalo.

Santiago placed two fingers over the woman's heart, his chest dropping as he slowly lifted his gaze. "She's dead," he said, his voice raw. "The child too."

Gonzalo’s face contorted into a cold sneer. "If you had come earlier, healer, she would be alive. You killed my wife and my heir. You will pay for this."

Gonzalo unsheathed his claws with a sharp *clack*. The sharp nails glowed with a sickening, vibrant green hue in the moonlight, an unmistakable mark.

Forbidden venom.

Santiago’s eyes went wide. He instantly knew there was no surviving this framed execution. He stepped in front of Isabella, squaring his aging shoulders, ready to die fighting to buy her time. "Run, Isabella!" Santiago growled low under his breath. "Run!"

Isabella didn't run. Instead, she stepped around her father, placing herself directly in Gonzalo’s line of sight.

"Kill me instead," Isabella said, her voice flat, cold, and devoid of fear. "I'm just a dud. I'm not important anyway."

Gonzalo paused, his glowing green claws hovering in the air. A slow, cruel smile curled across his lips. "Kill you?" Gonzalo purred, his eyes scanning her up and down. "No. I won't kill you. I've heard of your... *services* around the border. A girl who knows how to keep men entertained. You'll come with me as my mistress."

A sudden flush of heat rushed to Isabella's face, bright red embarrassment mixing with sharp indignation but she forced her jaw shut and held his gaze. She accepted.

"No! Isabella, no!" Santiago pleaded, grabbing her arm, his eyes desperate. "Don't do this!"

Gonzalo didn't wait. He seized Isabella by the wrist, dragging her away from the blood-soaked dirt, leaving Santiago kneeling alone beside his dead wife.

Isabella glanced over her shoulder as she was pulled into the shadow of the trees. "I'll be back, Papa!" she called out, holding her head high. "I want to explore the world anyway!" Santiago pushed himself up, tears streaming down his weather-beaten face into his gray beard. "I will come for you!" he shouted into the dark forest after her. "I will come for you, Isabella!"

Later that night, the heavy doors of Gonzalo’s manor swung open as Rodrigo stepped into the grand estate. A servant immediately bowed low, serving him a drink that was set neatly on the side table before retreating silently into the shadows. Rodrigo stood waiting, his broad frame relaxed, holding the crystal glass as Gonzalo strolled into the hall.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, cousin?" Gonzalo asked casually, adjusting his cuffs. Rodrigo swirled his drink, his dark eyes fixing cold and unreadable on Gonzalo. "You should be in distress, Gonzalo. You lost your wife and child. Whatever is the matter? Have you finally lost it? Or is this your way of dealing with grief, brother?"

Gonzalo sneered, pouring himself a drink. "I'm no brother of yours. And I only lost an heir. Women are recoverable, but an heir... I need to make another. Never sure the child was mine anyway. She sure as hell was a good little slut when I got her, and always a slut she will be."

"Interesting," Rodrigo said softly, leaning back against the wooden edge of the table. "So you've got another, I presume?"

"Yes," Gonzalo said, a wicked, satisfied grin spreading across his face. "One that will stun the city. A very awfully familiar one, the fairest of them all, one who *will* bear my heir."

"A bold statement," Rodrigo said, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with a quiet, lethal authority. "Though I’d advise you to spend less time dreaming of heirs and more time securing your borders. The report from the outer rim was abysmal. Security is slack, and the perimeter guards are soft." Gonzalo tossed back his drink, his smile widening into a smirk. "The border is quiet enough. We don't need to turn every common guard into a warmonger." "We need discipline," Rodrigo countered coldly, setting his empty glass onto the table with a hard *clack*.

"I am increasing the mandatory draft for the garrison. You will recruit and train two more contingents of guards by the next moon. If your perimeter fails, it falls on your head, cousin."

"Always the strategist," Gonzalo muttered, though he offered a brief, mocking nod. "Consider it done."

As the conversation lulled, a strange, suffocating pressure settled over Rodrigo's chest. An inexplicable tension gripped him, a sudden spike in his pulse that made his inner wolf claw restlessly beneath his skin. The air inside the manor felt suddenly too thick, too tight, as if the walls themselves were pushing against him.

"I'm leaving," Rodrigo said flatly, turning toward the heavy front doors.

"So soon?" Gonzalo called after him, a low chuckle following him out.

Rodrigo stepped into the cool night air, drawing a deep breath to clear the sudden, irrational weight from his lungs.

But as he descended the stone steps into the courtyard, an involuntary pull tugged at his gaze. His eyes drifted upward to the upper wing of the manor. High on the second floor, a single window was thrown open to the dark night. Warm, golden candlelight spilled from the room, framing the distinct silhouette of a woman leaning against the frame, looking out over the grounds.

Rodrigo froze.

The distance was too great, and the deep shadows of the balcony obscured her face, but something about the sharp tilt of her chin and the posture of absolute defiance sent a sharp, electric shock straight down his spine. She felt unnervingly, oddly familiar, a ghost of a memory that pulled at him with terrifying force. He took a slow step back toward the light, straining his Alpha sight to pierce the dark.

"Is anything the matter, Rodrigo?"

Gonzalo’s smooth voice cut through the quiet as he stepped onto the porch after him, a broad, triumphant smile playing on his lips. Rodrigo snapped his gaze back to his cousin, hiding the sudden turbulence in his chest behind a rigid, icy mask. He shook his head once.

"Nothing," Rodrigo said flatly. "Ensure those training reports are on my desk by morning." Without waiting for a reply, Rodrigo turned and walked out into the dark, leaving the manor behind. But all the way back to the royal estate, his wolf paced inside him, haunted by the shadowy figure in the window and the lingering, unexplained pull in his chest.