Chapter 1

I'm getting married, but the person I've been in love with for eight years won't know about it.

Because - he has already found the Luna he chose.

And when I erased all my memories and was expelled from the group by him, he knelt down before me in tears.

In the palace garden, on the night of the coronation feast, I heard my cousin moan the name of my fated mate.

The bell tolled—slow, iron, rattling my bones. The air was thick with a scent I knew better than my own skin: fir, iron, and the promise of a storm. It belonged to the man I'd loved for eight years—my destined mate.

His teeth were buried in my cousin Viola's throat. Not mine.

“Asher.”

Viola flinched, fingers clutching her cloak, eyes glossing with a practiced sheen. “Leona… don't misunderstand. I—I didn't want to be here. The elders say all the clans are watching. The North needs a luna who can steady things. I'm just—filling in. For tonight.”

I laughed, sharp as a blade of ice. “Filling in? This is the coronation night, not a tryst.”

“Shut up.” Asher lifted his mouth from her skin. Gold eyes turned to me—calm, crushing. “You should learn to speak more sweetly. We need someone who puts our allies at ease tonight.”

“Then do something worth hearing. Oh—silly me.” I stared at them—still braced together. “Viola's the ‘fated' luna, isn't she? That's why you betrayed me?”

“I haven't betrayed anyone.” He stepped forward, his presence a slab of pressure. “I'm the alpha. The pack comes first. Then us.”

“‘Us'?” I tipped my chin toward Viola, mouth quirking. “She's my cousin. So your mark gets to come in… order?”

Viola shook her head fast, voice soft enough to wring. “Don't say that… I never wanted to replace you. I was afraid you'd be hurt. Everyone says being luna is cruel. I thought I could hold it for you first—until things settled. Then I'd give it back.”

“How considerate.” I jerked my chin at the bite oozing on her neck. “Considerate enough to soothe my boyfriend, I see.”

Her fingers trembled; innocence wilted prettily. Asher caught my chin and forced my gaze to his. “Look at me.”

His voice dropped, iron-threaded. “You're not leaving.”

His thumb slid the hollow of my neck. Low, unshakeable: “You're mine.”

“Let go.” I knocked his hand away—only to feel an invisible weight slam my chest. Alpha voice—half-formed, already demanding my bones kneel.

I bit my tongue and strangled the urge. “Illegal double marking, Asher. Will you really?”

“I'll bear the consequences.”

I snorted. “You bear them—I pay? What a bargain. Now get your hands off me.”

“Leona, please don't—don't make a scene,” Viola pleaded. “They're all watching—the elders, the lords. If you must blame someone, blame me. This is only temporary. After tonight I—I can step aside.”

“Can you step aside clean?” I stared at the fresh mark. “Or do you mean to say, once the crown's on—‘too late'?”

Her eyes reddened. She twisted her ties. “I'm not that kind of—”

Asher's mouth came down on my throat.

Fire ripped under my skin, detonating in my skull. My heart hammered war drums; the wolf in me bucked and clawed. Shame and craving tore through reason. I clutched the cold pillar until my knuckles blanched. I would not fall.

He lifted his head, knuckles wiping the smear of blood from his lip—his gaze clear, almost cruel. “Now everyone knows whose you are.”

Viola squealed. “Asher! What have you—”

Staggering, I clapped both hands over my throat. My heart slammed like it would break free. My new mark jumped in time with his, chaining me to the man who had just betrayed me.

Viola made a show of reaching for me. I slapped her hand away. “Is this the plan? Make me the thing between you no one sees?”

“You misunderstand her,” Asher said, low.

“The only person I misjudged is myself.” I yanked my cloak loose. Blood slid from the wound, flowering dark on stone. “I thought eight years would teach you to choose once.”

The alpha voice fell again—granite on my shoulders. “Come back.”

It bowed my tendons; my wolf howled to heel, to drown in his scent. I locked every instinct behind my ribs. “No.”

“Leona, don't go,” Viola choked. “At least not tonight. They'll say you're willful, unfit—”

“Then wear ‘fit' for me.” I strode away.

Music shifted; the hall erupted in cheers. People glimpsed the stain on my neck and looked aside like dodging a drawn wire.

At the turn I lit my comm-stone. “Father. By the old law, begin the sundering.” I didn't soften it. “The sooner the better.”

Mother's voice cut in—steadying, but shaking beneath. “Leona, you know what that means? Truth will cut your heart. Silver fire will sear your bones. Once you turn, you carve out your own lungs.”

Father rumbled, “And once begun, it can't be stopped. Failure may take your life.”

I pressed my palm to the burning mark. “I know.”

“And I am not turning back.” Snow feathered past the window. “Even if it strips me to skin and bone, I will return this bite to the goddess.”

“When?” Father asked.

“Three days.” I said. “In the birch grove, with blackwater as mirror. Have them witness.”