Chapter 1
Damon's jaw went tight. "Selene. That chain is beneath your sister."
I met those yellow eyes without flinching. "Then why isn't it beneath me?"
He laughed—a short, breathy little sound meant to smooth things over. "Everybody always said you were Luna's shadow. The Bloodstone needs presence. Grey metal? That's more your speed. Quiet and easy to miss."
Shadow, reflection, Moonshadow—that was all the pack ever saw when they looked at me. Luna and I shared a womb, but they never once let me forget who came out first, who shifted at seven, who could rip a deer's throat out before I could even call my wolf. I pored over the pack ledgers till my eyes blurred, memorized supply routes, kept track of every ally treaty—while Luna hunted, howled, and racked up the elders' praise. I patched her torn cloaks, hauled her gear on patrol, and let the whispers roll off me for ten years. "Moonshadow," they called me. "The one who follows and never leads."
I'd begged Damon to stop using that name. He'd nod, promise, then let it slip the second Luna's scent hit the air.
I took a breath, steady as stone. "I'm ending the binding."
Damon's grin turned indulgent. "Don't be ridiculous. The Fullmoon Rite's seven nights out. We'll find you a different piece if this one bothers you."
"I'm not negotiating."
Luna shoved the Bloodstone at me. "Take mine. Don't embarrass Damon over a trinket."
Damon caught her wrist before I could touch it. "That pendant's yours. Selene's wolf can't carry its weight. She'd only tarnish it."
So the choice was never real. He'd already picked her. I was just getting dressed up for the leftovers.
I pulled away and walked out. Damon's boots scraped after me. "Fine. I'll take you to the market stalls. Pick anything. Just drop this."
We'd barely hit the trader's lane when Luna peeled off toward the scent-master's booth. "I need moon-cedar oil for the Silvermoon Rite. The Elder's mate is expecting it."
Damon waved me off. "We'll do that first. Selene can browse later."
Luna sampled a dozen vials. Damon bought two and pushed the reject into my hand. "Luna's got impeccable taste. You should be grateful."
I let it drop to the cobblestones. "I'm moving my things out tonight. This is over."
His fingers twitched, the smile starting to c***k. "Selene. Enough."
That evening, Damon called my parents to Blackthorn Manor before I could even open my trunk. My mother's claws dug into my arm as she hauled me into the great hall. "Have you lost your mind? The rite's in a week! Damon Blackthorn could have any she-wolf in the Northern Packs, and you're talking about walking away?"
My father's cane cracked against the stone floor. "The alliance between Ashford and Blackthorn isn't a sandbox for your tantrums." He grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to his. "You've got none of Luna's power, none of her blood-purity. Landing a Blackthorn mate is more luck than you ever earned."
I used to swallow these words, hoping if I took it quietly I might earn a little mercy. Tonight I just stared past him.
Damon slid between us, smooth as ever. "She's nervous, that's all. Every bride gets cold feet before the rite."
My mother's face melted into approval. "See? He still stands up for you. Where else would you find a mate like that?"
I almost choked on it—defending me from the exact poison every one of them was pouring.
"If you break this," my mother hissed, "don't you ever call me Mother again."
Silence.
I nodded. "Understood."
They all breathed easier, shoulders dropping. They thought I'd caved.
I went up to my room and dug out my leather sketchbook—the one Luna wrote off as "tanner's junk," the one Damon said was useless next to pack accounting. For years I'd buried myself in supply manifests, treaty clauses, resource maps. I was indispensable. And invisible. Always invisible.
I called Sera, the only wolf who never made me feel small. She ran a hide workshop over in Greywood. When her voice crackled through, my tears had already soaked my collar.
"Sera. You still need a restorer?"
A long silence. "Selene, you're bound in days."
"I know."
"You gave up your craft for Damon's ledgers. You let his pack swallow you whole. You're really walking out on all of it?"
I looked toward Silvermoon City's distant glow. "Yeah. My mind's made up."
A beat of breathing. Then Sera's growl went fierce. "Good. I wasn't going to talk you out of it anyway. The last carriage leaves late on your binding night. I'll have a wagon at the church's back gate."
I closed my eyes, and the first real smile in months cracked across my face. "Then the moon already picked my leaving day."
