The fortress of the Black Mane Howlers had gone quiet after the night's ceremony, but silence did nothing to soothe Keona's heart. She sat by the cold stone of her chamber window, staring at the moon that mocked her with its silver glow. Her chest still ached, a dull throb where the bond had torn away.
"Fated mate," she whispered, voice raw. "And yet… rejected."
The word itself was poison.
The door creaked open. Nyra stormed in, fury in every step, her hair flying behind her.
"Keona!" she hissed. "I should tear his arrogant throat out for what he did to you. The entire hall saw it—saw him humiliate you!"
Keona turned slowly, her eyes red-rimmed but dry now. "He had every right.
"Every right?" Nyra slammed her palm against the wall. "You carry the bond! The moon itself chose you! And he tosses it aside for Selene Duskfang? That viper?
Keona flinched at the name but didn't answer.
Nyra crossed the room, kneeling to grip Keona's hands. Her voice softened. "Listen to me, sister. You are worth more than all of them put together. The bond he denied still burns in your veins—I saw it in your eyes when he spoke those words. He will regret it."
Keona wanted to believe her. gods, she wanted to. But all she felt was emptiness.
A knock at the door broke their moment. Nyra rose, her nostrils flaring. "If it's him, I'll—"
But it wasn't Kalethorn.
When the door opened, a tall figure leaned against the frame. Darius.
Nyra stiffened instantly, hand on her dagger. "You dare walk into this fortress, Ironcrest cur?"
Darius ignored her, his gaze settling on Keona. His voice was low, smooth, but carried the weight of authority. "I came to see if she was breathing."
Keona's heart stumbled. "Why… why would you care?"
His lips curved faintly. "Because I know what it is to carry rejection's scar. And because even in your brokenness, you stood taller than Selene Duskfang ever could."
Nyra snarled. "Leave."
But Darius didn't move. His eyes held Keona's, steady and unreadable. "The Black Mane heir is a fool. He has cast aside a gift the moon rarely gives. And if he does not see your worth, another will."
Keona's throat tightened. The bond to Kalethorn still smoldered like ash in her chest, yet Darius's words tugged at something fragile within her.
"Enough," Nyra snapped, stepping between them. "You think to lure her into your Pride, don't you? She won't be a pawn in your games."
Darius tilted his head. "I don't make pawns, Fenwyn. I make equals."
The tension thickened until Keona forced a whisper. "Please… both of you. Enough."
Nyra shot him a final glare before shoving the door closed in his face. Keona sank back into her chair, trembling.
"He shouldn't even be here," Nyra spat, pacing. "The nerve of him, stepping into Black Mane walls. Kalethorn should have him flayed."
Keona's eyes drifted back to the moon. "And yet… he was the only one who spoke to me like I mattered."
Nyra froze, eyes widening. "Keona… don't tell me you—"
"I don't," Keona cut in quickly, though her voice cracked. "But the bond… it's ashes, Nyra. I feel nothing but the ache. If Kalethorn can deny me, what does that make me?"
Nyra knelt again, fierce as fire. "It makes you Keona Stormfang. And if he cannot see it, he is blind."
The words wrapped around Keona like a fragile shield, but in the silence that followed, she heard it—soft, faint, almost like a breath carried on the wind.
Silvertail…
Keona's eyes widened. She turned toward the moonlit window. "Did you hear that?"
Nyra blinked. "Hear what?"
"The voice. Someone… someone said silvertail."
"No one's here but us," Nyra said, looking confused.
Keona clutched her chest. The whisper had been clear as a bell, echoing in her bones, stirring something deep that she had never touched before.
Silvertail… awaken…
She gasped, falling to her knees. The ache in her chest flared into heat, her skin glowing faintly silver beneath the moonlight. Nyra cried out, gripping her shoulders.
"Keona! What's happening to you?"
"I—I don't know!" Keona's voice trembled.
The glow faded as suddenly as it came, leaving her gasping for breath, her body shaking.
Nyra stared at her, stunned. "This… this isn't normal. You've never shifted, but that… that wasn't human, Keona."
Before Keona could respond, a sharp knock rattled the door again.
This time, it was Kalethorn's voice.
"Keona. We need to speak."
Nyra's lip curled. "Now he remembers you."
Keona's heart hammered, torn between rage, longing, and the new fear blooming in her veins. She pushed herself up, steadying against the wall.
"Open the door, Keona," Kalethorn's voice pressed, harder this time. "There are matters you cannot ignore."
Nyra leaned close to her, whispering fiercely. "Don't you dare let him back into your heart. He made his choice."
But the whisper still echoed in Keona's mind, soft and insistent.
Silvertail… your time begins.
With trembling hands, Keona reached for the door latch.
She pulled the door open, revealing Kalethorn.
His presence filled the threshold—broad shoulders squared, eyes shadowed with something she couldn't quite read. Behind him, the torches flickered, casting him in flame and shadow.
Nyra's snarl was instant. "You've got nerve showing your face here after what you did."
Kalethorn ignored her, his gaze locked on Keona. His voice was steady, but it carried a strain beneath the steel.
"Keona. We need to talk."
Keona's throat tightened. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "You've said enough in the hall."
"No." He stepped inside despite Nyra's hiss of protest. "What I said… was for the pack. This—" His hand clenched at his side. "This is different."
Nyra scoffed. "Different? You humiliated her in front of every elder, every wolf in the hall. You chose Selene, remember? You made it very clear."
Kalethorn's jaw worked, but he didn't rise to her bait. Instead, he looked at Keona, his voice dropping low.
"The bond isn't gone. I can still feel it."
Keona's chest seized. "Don't." Her voice cracked, the word trembling on her lips. "Don't stand here and tell me that after you tore me apart."
His brow furrowed, and for a moment, his composure cracked. "Do you think I wanted this? Do you think it was easy?"
"Then why?" Her voice rose, sharper than she meant, but the wound inside her bled too deeply to hold back. "Why reject me if you felt it too?"
"Because you cannot shift, Keona!" His words burst like thunder. "The Luna of the Black Mane Howlers must lead by strength. If I claimed you, they would see weakness. They would see ruin. My pack would fracture, and everything my bloodline has built would crumble."
Keona staggered back, his words cutting deeper than any blade.
Nyra shoved between them. "So your pride is worth more than your mate? Than her?"
"Pride?" Kalethorn snapped, his voice rougher now. "This is not pride. This is duty. You think I don't feel the bond tearing at me even now? But my pack comes before my heart."
Keona's voice was a whisper, broken. "Then your pack is welcome to you. Because you've left me with nothing."
Kalethorn's chest heaved, his jaw tight, but he didn't answer. He lingered a moment longer, as if words burned in him that he couldn't bring himself to say, then turned sharply and strode out.
The silence he left was heavier than his presence.
Keona crumpled against the wall, her body shaking. Nyra pulled her close, whispering fiercely, "Let him go. Let his pride choke him. You don't need him, Keona. You'll rise without him."
But Keona's heart still throbbed with the echo of his words: The bond isn't gone.
And that night, when the whisper of Silvertail came again, it felt less like a promise—and more like a command.