The full moon hung bloated and red—a blood moon, rare and ominous. The entire Silver Moon Pack had gathered in the ancient challenge circle, along with representatives from three neighboring packs. Word of my return had spread like wildfire.
I stood at the edge of the circle, Luna safely with Selene in the treeline. Tonight wasn't about my daughter. It was about justice.
"The challenged may choose their champion," Elder Thorne intoned, one of the few wolves old enough to remember the last rejection challenge. "Alpha Thornfield, who stands for you?"
Marcus stepped forward, and my breath caught. Dark circles, yes, but he'd prepared for this. Power radiated from him—desperate, dangerous power. "I stand for myself. I rejected her. I'll face the consequences."
Garrett tried to protest from where guards held him. "Alpha, let me—"
"Silence." Marcus's command was absolute. "You've done enough."
But through my gift, I felt the truth. Marcus wanted this. Wanted to face me. Whether for punishment or absolution, I couldn't tell.
"And the challenger?" Elder Thorne looked to me. "Who stands for the wrongly rejected?"
I smiled. "I stand for myself. And for every wolf ever called defective."
The crowd stirred. In three years, how many had hidden their gifts? Suppressed their nature? Been made to feel less?
"Then let the challenge—"
"Wait." A new voice, smooth as poisoned honey. The crowd parted for a wolf I'd never seen before—tall, scarred, with eyes like chips of ice. "I invoke the Right of Testimony."
Elder Thorne frowned. "On what grounds?"
"I am Kieran Blackfrost of the Northern Pack." His smile was all teeth. "And I have evidence that this challenge is built on lies."
My gift screamed warnings. This wolf was shielded so perfectly I couldn't read him at all. But the absence itself was terrifying—like staring into a void.
"Speak," Elder Thorne commanded.
Kieran produced a vial, dark liquid swirling inside. "Three years ago, our pack's healer examined the Luna's blood after her... dramatic exit. What we found was troubling." He paused for effect. "Bloodmoon poison. A substance that amplifies emotional gifts to dangerous levels. Makes empaths unstable. Violent."
Lies wrapped in enough truth to be believed. Yes, bloodmoon poison existed. But I'd never—
"Someone poisoned her," Kieran continued. "Fed her small doses over months. By the time she was pregnant, she was a danger to everyone. The Alpha's rejection wasn't cruelty—it was mercy."
"That's not—" I started.
"Can you prove otherwise?" His smile widened. "Can you prove your gift hasn't been corrupted? That you're not a danger to any pack that takes you in?"
The trap was elegant. Deny it, and I looked defensive. Admit uncertainty, and I looked weak. But Kieran had made one mistake.
He'd threatened my daughter's legitimacy.
"You want proof?" I stepped into the circle. "Then test me. Here. Now."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Live testing of an empath's gift was dangerous—for the tester.
Kieran's confidence flickered. "That's not—"
"Scared?" I pushed power into the word, and several wolves stepped back. "The big bad Northern wolf afraid of one 'poisoned' empath?"
His jaw clenched. Pride would force his hand. "Fine. Elder Thorne, witness this. When she loses control, you'll see—"
He never finished. The moment he entered the circle, I struck.
Not with claws or fangs. With truth.
My gift, trained by Selene, honed by three years of practice, slammed into his shields like a tsunami. And I found what he was hiding.
"You're not Northern Pack," I announced, feeling his real emotions for the first time—panic, rage, fear. "You're something else. Something old. Something that feeds on—"
He moved faster than any wolf should, claws extending as he lunged. But I was ready.
The crowd gasped as I sidestepped, moving with liquid grace. My hand touched his chest as he passed, and I pushed. Not physically—emotionally. Every fear he'd ever buried, every moment of terror he'd inflicted on others, all of it reflected back at once.
Kieran Blackfrost, whatever he truly was, collapsed screaming.
"He's been hunting empaths," I announced to the stunned crowd, pulling memories from his mind like thread. "Kidnapping them. Experimenting. Looking for something specific. Looking for—"
His emotions spiked with pure terror, and I knew.
"Looking for a True Empath. Looking for Luna."
Chaos erupted. Northern wolves demanding answers. Silver Moon wolves reeling from revelation. And through it all, Marcus staring at me with something like awe.
"The challenge stands," Elder Thorne declared over the noise. "But I think we have bigger problems than pack politics."
That's when the howling started. Not one wolf. Dozens. Surrounding us.
Kieran laughed from where he lay, blood bubbling from his lips. "You think I came alone? The Order of Shadows has waited centuries for a True Empath. And now..."
His eyes found where Luna hid with Selene.
"Now we have her."
The forest exploded with movement. Wolves unlike any I'd seen—twisted, wrong, their emotions oily and alien—poured from the trees. Not rogues. Something worse.
"Protect the pup!" Marcus roared, and for a moment, our shattered bond flickered with shared purpose.
The real fight was just beginning.
And somewhere in the melee, I heard my daughter laugh—not with humor, but with the terrible joy of a predator recognizing prey.
The Order of Shadows had no idea what they'd awakened.