Maelin's Territory – Oona's Perspective
The air was thick with smoke and secrets. Maelin's stronghold sat crouched in shadows, as if the forest itself refused to lay eyes on the evil it housed. Oona had come under darkness—cloaked, hooded, and treading lightly.
Even if she wanted Maelin and his son dead, she couldn't act on that desire. Not yet. Not with too many threads still weaving their game. She had to play the part. Smile when they whispered war, and nod when they called it strategy.
Still, she could feel it.
The end was coming.
For all of them.
Her thoughts drifted. To Andrew. To Jamie. To that fight by the border that had shifted everything. She'd heard the whispers—how Jamie's power had burst like lightning from the sky, how even without fully shifting, he stood like a god among wolves.
He was becoming something.
Something dangerous.
Something... useful.
"You're here," came Maelin's voice, cutting through her thoughts like a blade from the shadows.
"I brought news," she said, stepping into the flickering torchlight, keeping her tone even. "Couldn't trust anyone else to deliver it."
Cassian was beside his father, arms crossed, that smug air of arrogance clinging to him like a second skin.
"They're set to address the pack," she told them. "Andrew and Jamie. It's official. They'll be stepping into power."
Cassian scoffed. "Let them. Crowns mean nothing in a war they can't win."
She held back the smirk itching her lips and gave him a smile of feigned patience. Idiot.
"I also heard the boy," he spat the word like it tasted foul, "...has Lunaris blood."
"Yes," she said, letting the word hang heavy in the air. "He does. Which makes him a prominent force. A threat, if not handled right."
Maelin leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Oona… are you trying to say something?"
She met his gaze, unflinching. "I'm saying we tread carefully. The boy is not what we thought. And neither is Andrew. The bloodline runs deeper now. Stronger. And there's a wedding coming."
Cassian shifted slightly, the smugness faltering just enough to betray unease.
"They'll be bonded soon. Truly bonded. Under the full moon."
Maelin grunted. "A show of unity."
"A declaration of war," she corrected. "And if we don't move now… we may not move at all."
There was silence.
And then Cassian spoke, his voice cold, laced with quiet fury.
"Then we strike before the moon. And when I take what's mine—no Luna, no Alpha, no legacy will rise again from Furstone's ashes."
*****
JAMIE'S POV
Dawn painted the skies of Furstone in pale gold, but I wasn't in bed, basking in comfort. No—I was on patrol.
My eyes swept the perimeter, not just for rogues, but for anything... off. Anything wrong. This was our home, and I intended to know every crack in its walls, every tremble in its breath.
That was when I spotted her, Laurette.
She stood by the training grounds, tending to a young pup's injured leg with the care of a mother and the precision of a warrior. Her silver-streaked braid swayed as she moved, commanding attention without demanding it. Strong. Sharp. Regal.
She caught my gaze and gestured for me to join her.
"Out early, Luna," she said with a teasing glint in her eyes.
I shrugged. "Someone's got to keep watch. And if I'm to stand beside your brother tonight, I need to see every inch of what we're protecting."
She smiled. "You sound more and more like one of us."
"I am one of you," I said softly, and she nodded, the smile fading into something more solemn.
We sat by the edge of the training arena, watching the younger warriors spar.
"I wanted to thank you," I said after a beat. "For standing up for us. For Andrew. For me."
She waved it off. "My father believed in you. I do too."
There was a pause. And then, I voiced what had been chewing at my insides.
"I think there's a mole in the council."
Laurette didn't flinch. Just nodded slowly. "So do I."
"I don't know who. But something's… wrong. Someone's watching us too closely. Planning something."
"Could be Oona," she said, eyes glittering. "She's got the kind of face that smiles while it stabs."
I chuckled. "Exactly."
She leaned in, voice lower. "Don't worry, Jamie. We'll get to the bottom of it. We always do. Furstone is ours. And we'll protect it."
Then she smirked.
"I would love to spar with you sometime. See what all the rumors are about. I hear you spark lightning."
I grinned. "Only if you go easy on me."
"No promises."
Before I could respond, I heard him.
"Hey, babe," Andrew's voice rang across the yard, easy and warm.
I flushed, caught off guard, and Laurette chuckled knowingly, rising to her feet.
"Smooth," she whispered as he reached me.
He looked better today. Still grieving, yes. But lighter. Stronger. Himself.
"You ready for tonight?" he asked, hand sliding into mine like second nature.
I nodded, drawing a deep breath. "As I'll ever be."
Laurette winked at us. "You two will do fine. Don't overthink it."
Just then, one of the patrol guards jogged up, bowing slightly.
"Your Gracious," he addressed me, and I blinked—still not quite used to the title. "We may have something. Can I speak with you?"
"Of course," I said, glancing at Andrew with a small smile before heading off.
As I walked away, I heard Laurette whisper to him, "You picked a good one."
And Andrew, in that voice only someone in love could summon, answered, "I know."