LOGINSilver lay on the bed in the room she was given, unable to sleep. She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts going back to her finding out that the rogue Alpha was her mate and him showing no interest in her whatsoever. Every word Arthur threw at her, the cold gaze weighed on her chest.
“Why should it be my concern if your father dies?”
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to force back the thoughts that the statement brought to her mind, but the echoes of it remained. The scariest thought that plagued her mind was, what if she went back and found nothing left?
She was unable to force the sleep to come, but she could hear the not-so-quiet whispers outside the door. She tried to listen in, putting pieces of the conversations together.
‘That is her, the lady that is the Alpha’s mate, but he doesn’t seem pleased by it.”
“She is no longer his mate. I heard that he rejected her.”
“Imagine the shame, coming here to beg only to get rejected.”
“She’s leading our men to a bloodbath.”
Her stomach turned into a knot, and she pressed her index fingers into her eyes, trying to fight back the tears that were brewing. “I can not break down now; if I do, my people are lost”. She tried assuring herself.
The door opened.
“Silver?’
She jumped, getting off the bed so fast. Ronan stood in the doorway, his arms against the door, looking at her as if to ask permission to enter.
He came in and crossed his hands across his chest with a blank face.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice coming out sharper than she had intended.
“He raised a brow and looked at her, puzzled. “Relax, I came to inform you that we leave at dawn, right at first light.”
She heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Thank you.”
“You do not have to thank me.” His eyes went over her, noticing her dark circles and the tension in her shoulders. “You should go to bed. You’d need the rest for what is to come tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess you are right,” she gave a dry laugh.
Matt looked at her for a while and then sighed. “Don’t listen to them, just ignore the talk.”
She looked up at him, surprised. “You have heard them too?”
He didn’t acknowledge her question. “That is what wolves do, they talk. But it does not matter, warriors follow orders, and the Alpha already gave the order.”
Her face turned sour. “Not out of compassion.”
“Does it matter? Your people are getting the help that they need; it does not matter how they get it as long as they get it,” Matt said pointedly.
Silver bit her lip. “I guess you are right, it really does not matter.”
“You should give yourself more credit, you had the nerve to come to the rogues for help when most people would not. And even after you got rejected by your mate, you put your pride aside and begged him to help your people. That is not a weakness.” He said, his eyes sharpening slightly, a bit of respect flickering in them.
“It feels like weakness, though.” Her voice was getting thick with tears.
Matt moved closer, resting his hand on her shoulder. “ It is a sacrifice for your people. There is a difference.”
His words made her feel a little better, and she nodded, swallowing because she could not bring herself to talk at that moment without falling apart.
He cleared his throat, going back to his usually stoic self. “You should really get some sleep. Dawn comes really quickly.”
She watched as he left, feeling a little hopeful about what was coming.
The next morning, Silver woke up with the thought of the Hollow Moon survivors waiting for her return. Ronan insisted on riding at her side, his presence solid, unwavering. Arthur gave only curt orders, keeping his distance, though his eyes tracked her every movement as though he couldn’t help himself.
Arthur’s gaze went over the assembled wolf warriors and landed on silver. Locking eyes with her, he said. ”You ride out underneath my name. Remember that.”
“Right.”
Ronan caught her silent response but did not react to it. Arthur walked the rest of the steps, taking his time like he was in no rush. He faced Ronan. “Bring back results. I do not want to listen to excuses. I will not lose my warriors to nothing.”
Ronan met his gaze before bowing down as a sign of respect.
Silver’s thoughts tangled like briars, her father fading, her pack in ruins, Arthur’s rejection slicing at her heart, and Ronan’s sudden closeness tugging at her in ways she didn’t know how to feel.
As they were about to begin their journey back to the Hollow moon pack, it happened again. The voice.
Her name.
“Silver.”
It slid like silk against her mind, a whisper threaded with venom and hunger. She froze, her vision swimming.
“You are mine.”
The world tilted. She staggered, clutching her head, a scream ripping from her throat. Ronan caught her as she collapsed, her body writhing in his arms.
Arthur was there in an instant, his command breaking through the panic. “What’s happening to her?”
Ronan’s face was pale. “It’s him. Drogo. He’s found a way through our wards.”
Silver’s last coherent thought before darkness claimed her was the echo of that voice, curling inside her skull like smoke.
“You cannot run from me, little moon.”
Silver did not realize she was shaking until the tremor reached her teeth.The forest had gone too still, the silence felt curated, like the trees themselves had been instructed not to interrupt.She forced her spine straight.“If resistance stops being my instinct,” she said carefully, “what exactly do you think replaces it?”Drogo regarded her the way scholars regard rare texts. “Clarity,” he replied.A hollow laugh almost escaped her, but it died before it reached her throat.“This is not clarity.”“No?” His voice remained even. “When you are not fighting me, your tho
Silver did not feel the journey end.Her consciousness slammed back into place like something dropped from a height too great to measure. Sensation flooded her all at once. Cold air scraped her lungs. Her knees buckled under unfamiliar ground. Her fingers curled into damp soil before she even realized she had fallen.Breath tore through her chest in sharp, uneven pulls.She did not remember walking here.Did not remember leaving Arthur’s warmth. Did not remember the corridors, the night air, the forest, the boundary of the pack, or crossing whatever invisible line separated safety from this place.But she knew immediately where she was.The knowing lived in her bones before
Arthur had sensed her before he saw her.Not by sound. The pack moved constantly around him, boots on stone, low voices, distant howls threading through dusk like living breath. None of that was unusual. None of it mattered.It was the shift beneath his ribs that made him turn.Silver stood at the edge of the clearing, still as if she had walked there and forgotten how to move again.For a moment he did nothing. He simply watched her.Her posture was upright, but something inside it had collapsed. Her shoulders held tension that did not belong to physical exhaustion. Her gaze found him, but it carried distance, like she had traveled through something unseen and arrived with pieces of herself still trailing behind.
Silver woke to stillness, wrapped in warmth and breath and the slow rhythm of another heartbeat close enough to feel.She didn’t move at first.Her mind surfaced gradually, like rising through deep water, the faint warmth against her back. The solid weight of an arm resting loosely across her waist. The quiet rise and fall of the chest behind her.Arthur.Memory settled gently into place.His room, the moonlight, and the quiet conversation. The kiss that had not felt like surrender but something steadier. Her breathing slowed.Carefully, slowly, Silver turned her head.Arthur slept beside her, his face was softened by sleep, tens
Silver did not remember leaving the room.One moment, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, lungs still struggling to find rhythm after Drogo’s voice slipped away. The next, she was moving through corridors she had barely memorized, guided less by thought and more by instinct.Her body knew where to go.Arthur.The word alone quieted something restless beneath her ribs.The halls of his home were alive with low movement. Wolves passing. Voices murmuring. The subtle pulse of pack life flowing around her like a river she stood inside but did not fully belong to yet.His scent reached her before she saw him. Pine, iron, something warm and grounded beneath it all.
Silver had learned to recognize silence in many forms.There was the peaceful kind, and then there was the wrong kind of silence, the kind that felt watched.It began as a faint pressure behind her temples, a subtle awareness, like standing too close to a cliff’s edge without seeing it.Silver paused midway through brushing her hair.The room Arthur had given her was warm, large, carefully prepared, fresh linens, a carved wooden chest at the foot of the bed, a window overlooking the forest line where pale afternoon light filtered through tall pines.She blinked slowly, the sensation faded. She exhaled and set the brush down.The adjustment to new territory, new emotional ter
Arthur had handled war councils with steadier focus.He had negotiated territory disputes, reorganized patrol routes after ambushes, and settled internal conflicts that could have split alliances if handled poorly. He h
The door closed softly behind Arthur, but the quiet that followed did not feel soft at all.It settled heavy and dense, like the air itself had thickened now that his presence was gone.
She woke before the sun fully rose, not because something was wrong, but because something was steady.That realization alone felt unfamiliar enough to pull her from sleep. For weeks, her waking moments ha
The moon was high, swollen, and pale, throwing silver fire across the Hollow Moon Pack’s gathering grounds. Silver was born under a moon like this—rare, sacred, a child destined for greatness. But greatness had teeth, and silver never grew.She stood at the edge of the circle, the hum of voices thi







