Blackwood Pack Territory, upstate New York
8:47 p.m.
The convoy of black SUVs tore through the gates like a funeral on wheels.
I sat in the back of the lead vehicle, Ryan's blood still crusted across my white silk blouse, dried into dark rust patterns that looked like war paint.
The guards at the iron gates raised their rifles.
"Halt! Restricted zone!"
The driver didn't even slow.
I rolled the window down with one finger.
The nearest guard opened his mouth to bark again, then saw my face.
His hand dropped from the weapon.
I stepped out before the car fully stopped.
Cold mountain air hit me like a slap. Pine and snow and old memories.
Five years ago I ran out of these gates barefoot and bleeding.
Tonight I walked back in heels sharp enough to kill.
Two more guards moved to block the massive oak doors of the pack house.
"This is private property—"
I didn't break stride.
Damon was already there, pushing through the doors from inside.
He took one look at me and dropped to one knee, right there on the stone steps.
Head bowed. Neck exposed.
"Luna."
The word cracked through the night like a gunshot.
The guards froze. Then scrambled to copy him, knees hitting stone.
I didn't wait.
I walked straight past them into the house that once watched me break.
The entrance hall was exactly the same: vaulted ceilings, wolf banners, the huge Blackwood crest carved into the floor.
Only now every eye turned to me.
Whispers followed like smoke.
"Is that…?"
"It can't be."
"She's covered in blood."
I kept walking.
Straight to the war room.
The double doors were closed, but I heard the shouting from twenty feet away.
I didn't knock.
I kicked them open so hard one slammed against the wall and cracked the plaster.
Inside, twenty of the most powerful wolves in North America sat around the ancient oak table.
Elders in their ceremonial robes. Warriors in tactical gear. All screaming at each other.
Elder Harlan was red-faced, pounding the table.
"Ryan is down! We need an interim Alpha now!"
Elder Morris sneered. "And hand the pack to that human whore and her bastard? Over my dead body!"
The room went dead silent.
Because I was standing in the doorway.
Blood on my clothes. Murder in my eyes.
Elder Morris recovered first. He stood, lip curling.
"You soulless little human. Get out before I have you dragged—"
I crossed the room in five steps and slammed Scarlett's burner phone onto the table so hard the wood split.
The screen was still lit, showing the text she sent right after the attack.
Did the brat scream pretty?
Tell the Alpha hello from Scarlett.
Silence so thick you could choke on it.
I leaned forward, palms flat on the table, voice low and venomous.
"While you old dogs bark at shadows, your Alpha lies in ICU with silver eating his heart.
Because none of you protected what was his."
Elder Harlan found his voice. "You have no authority here—"
Damon stepped into the room behind me.
He walked straight to my side and dropped to one knee again.
Head bowed.
"My Luna."
Marcus followed. Then Kai. Then every single warrior who had been in the park.
One by one, they knelt.
The Elders turned purple.
I straightened slowly.
"Ryan Blackwood is fighting for his life.
His son, the Blackwood heir, was nearly kidnapped today by the same female you all begged him to choose over me five years ago."
I looked each Elder in the eye.
"Scarlett is behind the attack. She paid rogues with pack money to murder a five-year-old child.
Your future Alpha."
Elder Morris opened his mouth again.
I cut him off.
"Speak once more, old man, and I will rip your tongue out and wear it as a necklace."
His jaw snapped shut.
Good.
I turned to Damon.
"Report."
He rose, eyes glowing with something close to awe.
"Scarlett never left the state. She's holed up in an abandoned warehouse on Pier 47, Brooklyn.
She's hired thirty rogue mercenaries. Ex-military. Heavily armed. They're waiting for her signal to move again, this time on the hospital."
The room erupted.
"We need to wait for the other packs—"
"We should negotiate—"
"She's bluffing—"
I slammed both palms on the table.
The crack echoed like thunder.
"Tonight," I said, voice ringing off the stone walls, "we end this."
Elder Harlan tried one last time. "You cannot give orders here!"
I smiled.
It wasn't nice.
"I just did."
I turned to the warriors.
"Load silver rounds. Bring flamethrowers. We're burning that pier to the waterline."
Damon hesitated. "Luna… you should stay here. It's too dangerous."
I picked up the silver dagger from Ryan's display case on the wall (the one he used for blood oaths).
I tested the edge with my thumb. Blood welled instantly.
"I'm going," I said.
Damon opened his mouth to argue.
I met his eyes.
"I need to watch her realize she lost everything.
I need to be the last face she sees before she meets the Goddess."
No one argued after that.
11:59 p.m.
The courtyard was an ocean of black vehicles.
Engines growled. Wolves shifted in and out of fur, eyes glowing in the dark.
I stood on the front steps in black tactical pants and one of Ryan's old hoodies, the sleeves rolled up, blood still flaking from the hem.
The dagger was strapped to my thigh.
Damon handed me a comms earpiece.
"Lead convoy, Luna?"
I took it.
Every wolf in the courtyard dropped to one knee as I passed.
Five hundred wolves.
All waiting for my word.
I climbed into the back of the lead SUV.
Marcus closed the door.
Through the tinted window, I saw Elder Morris watching from an upper balcony, face twisted with rage.
I rolled the window down and looked straight at him.
"Your time is over, old man."
Then I nodded to the driver.
The convoy rolled out like black thunder.
Forty vehicles. No lights. No mercy.
Brooklyn, 1:13 a.m.
Pier 47 was a rotting skeleton of steel and salt.
Scarlett's warehouse squatted at the end, windows painted black, armed guards on the roof.
Our vehicles killed engines two blocks away.
Wolves melted into the shadows.
I stepped out into the freezing night.
Damon appeared at my side.
"Snipers in place. Breach teams ready."
I pulled Ryan's dagger from its sheath.
The blade caught the moonlight and threw it back like a warning.
I looked at the warehouse.
Somewhere inside, Scarlett was laughing, thinking she'd won.
I smiled.
Then I gave the order.
"Burn it."
The night exploded into fire and howls.
I walked straight down the center of the pier, heels clicking on broken concrete, dagger in hand.
Bullets sparked around me.
None touched me.
Because every wolf in the Blackwood Pack was fighting for their Luna tonight.
And I was done hiding.
Scarlett wanted a war?
I brought her hell.
I stopped twenty feet from the warehouse doors and raised my voice so every rogue inside could hear.
"Scarlett!" I shouted. "Your time is up!"
A window shattered above.
She appeared, red hair wild, eyes insane.
"You're dead!" she screamed. "You're supposed to be de