Marked by blood, bound by fate.

The kingdom was celebrating.

By sunset, Maxine was supposed to become Luna. But by midnight, she would discover that everything she’d believed for the last three months was a lie. At least, that’s what her wolf had been trying to tell her.

From the windows of the eastern palace, Maxine could see lanterns floating into the evening sky like stars set free. Music drifted through the courtyards. Servants hurried through the palace halls carrying flowers, silver trays, and bolts of shimmering fabric. Laughter echoed from every direction.

Even the air felt different somehow. Like the entire kingdom was holding its breath. Waiting just for her ceremony to finally breathe.

Tonight was the Luna Ceremony. Tonight, she would finally become his.

Three months ago, Maxine had been nobody. Three months ago, she’d discovered she belonged to one of the oldest bloodlines in the wolfshifter kingdom. Three months ago, she’d found her fated mate—the man destined by the Moon Goddess herself.

And tonight, she would stand beside him before the entire kingdom as its future Luna. So why did it feel like she was walking toward her own demise?

Inside the eastern palace chambers, Maxine stood alone in front of a mirror, the seamstresses having finally finished fussing over her and disappeared.

‘Thank the Moon Goddess for that.’ She loved them. Truly. But if one more person probed and poked her with a pin, she was going to start biting.

The silence they left behind settled over the room. And unfortunately, silence gave her too much time to think—to feel, to ponder.

‘Something isn’t right.’

The feeling had been following her for weeks now.

At first she'd ignored it, pretending like it didn’t exist. Then she'd tried explaining it away. “Maybe it’s just the new environment.” Or “I’m just getting used to all this new stuff.”

But now? Now it was becoming impossible to pretend it wasn't there. Maxine stares at her hands and slowly curls her fingers inward. The feeling sat heavy in her chest, it was persistent, nagging…refusing to leave.

Ever since she'd felt it, something about the bond had felt...off. Not particularly wrong, just not right.

Even her wolf thought so too.

Thraen was always so restless each time she was around him, itching to crawl out of her mind and sprint. And the night before, she had howled in agony, pure utter protest.

The very thought of the ceremony even taking place, the bonding and the mating. She hated all of it. Each little tidbit. She despised it all.

Maxine swallows hard, she felt guilty. This was her mate. Her fated one. It’s supposed to be a heartfelt connection. A celebration to have found her mate so early. So she accepted it all without any suspicion.

‘Thraen?’ She calls inwardly. Her wolf stirs but continues sulking.

Maxine sighs, grabbing her gown from the bed, she goes over to the full-length mirror. Tilting her head, admires the gorgeous dress she’ll have to adorn herself in tonight. It was breathtaking.

Layers of delicate silver and sky blue cascaded down her frame. Threaded with golden embroidery that shimmered each time it caught the light.

And in that moment, something shifts. A soft smile graces her lips, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

”Wow,” she whispers.

The corset fit perfectly, accentuating her body and shaping it in with elegant precision. .

She couldn’t wait to see how she would look when everything was put into place. After all, they’d done it all just for her, their future Luna.

“I really am doing this,” she says, gaze softening.

Instinctively, she reaches for the connection—and in response the bond stirs. Warm, present and reassuring. Despite that, her smile falters.

The familiar chord of unease twists beneath it. Which wouldn't be unusual if not for the bond feeling weaker…...incomplete.

Her instincts stir, trying to tell her something but it’s barred. Like some strange wall is thwarting them.

Then, the bond pulses again, stronger. The only description suitable for what it feels like—is that of a note slightly off key in an otherwise perfect melody.

‘Thraen?’ She calls once more. Nerves skittering all over. There’s no response. No stirring, no emotion. Just silence. Utter detachment.

Maxine stares at her reflection, unease bleeding into her system. Her wolf had never behaved this way before. This wasn’t normal. None of it was. None of it made sense.

“Maybe you’re just starved.” She mumbles more to herself.

Suddenly, the room felt smaller. The walls felt tight and suffocating. Her gaze snaps to the door, and a strange sense of the need to be someplace overcomes her.

She hesitates. Mulling it over, she figures she could get some food while working out what this sudden desire really is.

She scoops up her skirts and walks out into an empty hallway. The palace corridors were oddly quiet now, most of the activities had moved to the ceremonial grounds so barely anyone was up here. Making it easier for her to go unnoticed and undetected.

Still barefoot, the soft padding of her feet barely makes any noise as she follows the strange persistent pull. She has absolutely no idea where she was headed. Only that she needed to because the deeper she went, the stronger it pulled.

Turning a corner, she comes face to face with an open archway and then—voices. Maxine comes to a hasty halt. Just beyond a partially closed stone door, familiar voices drift straight to her ears.

She stays still. ‘I shouldn’t be here’ And yet here she is. Because something in her chest insists she stay, linger a bit longer and listen. Her body suddenly tingles all over and then stops just as fast as it came.

“…it must be done tonight. I don’t think her wolf will be fooled any longer.” The familiar voice of the maid she’d been given after she arrived sounds.

‘What is she talking about?’ Maxine wonders.

“And? Are you certain it will work? Will the transfer hold?” The primordial responds, sounding bored.

Maxine’s blood runs cold.

‘My mate!’

“Completely certain.” The maid responds. “Once we do the ritual during the ceremony, her power will belong to you.”

‘Her—MY POWER!?’

“It’ll be drained out of her and bleed directly into your hands.”

Maxine’s hands tremble. ‘They want my power…!’

Elara’s calm voice follows. “You’re an excellent witch Eliza, she trusts us. Especially since she knows I'm her mother.” Giggles follow. “What such stupidity!" Elara finishes.

“She most certainly won’t resist. My love.” The Primordial’s affectionate tone slices through Maxine’s heart. A tone he has never used with her. And it clicks.

“She already feels the bond,” Eliza continues. “It might be false, but her body has accepted it enough for the ritual to succeed.”

“After that, the throne will finally accept me fully.” The primordial responds. “Then, Elara and I can proceed with the real Luna ceremony.”

Maxine’s heart shutters. “No…” she whispers. Taking a few steps back.

“It will be easy,” the witch says. “And once it’s done, she’ll be no more.

Maxine’s vision blurs. ‘It makes sense.’ Everything she had believed—everything she had felt—twisted into something unrecognizable. A lie. All of it.

The bond suddenly feels like a poison. Wrapping itself around her throat. Her wolf howls in her mind, echoing her pain. She turns on her heels, knocking over a vase. The sound of it hitting the ground echoes in the silent hall.

“What was that!” Elara asks, footsteps follow, heading towards the noise.

Maxine bolts.

A gasp— “GET BACK HERE!” A voice snarls.

The corridors blur as Maxine’s pace fastens, adrenaline fueling her system. “We need to get out of here Thraen” The words barely leave her lips.

They were going to use her. Strip her. Take everything. And she had been walking willingly into it.

“DAUGHTER!”

A voice calls behind her. But she doesn't stop. Doesn’t turn.

She bursts through the palace doors and into the open, the sudden rush of wind hitting her face, giving her a sense of relief.

The guards startle, staring dumbfounded at her sprinting form.

“GUARDS! GET HER!”

They transform. Massive beasts hot on her trail. Snarling and growling as their massive paws assault the earth. Maxine pushes harder. Her lungs burn. Her legs tremble. But she doesn’t slow.