The Blackwood Forest did not just harbor darkness; it was darkness itself. The trees here were ancient, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal fingers clawing at the moon. Every step I took sent a jolt of agony through my chest, a reminder of the bond that Kaelen had so ruthlessly shredded.
A rejected mate was supposed to wither and die. The pain of the severance was often compared to having one's soul flayed alive. I could feel my strength ebbing, my vision blurring at the edges as the cold seeped into my bones.
"I... I will not... die here," I gasped, my voice a broken rasp.
I collapsed against the trunk of a massive cedar, its bark rough against my raw skin. My mind flashed back to the altar—to Kaelen's disgusted gaze and Lira's triumphant smirk. They were probably celebrating now, drinking honey-mead while I was being hunted by the horrors of the night.
A low, guttural vibration started deep in the earth, shaking the very roots I sat upon. The forest, which had been filled with the rustle of unseen predators, suddenly fell into a terrifying, absolute silence. Even the crickets stopped their chirping.
Then came the scent.
It wasn't the warm, familiar sandalwood of the Silver Moon Pack. This was something different. It was the smell of a brewing storm, of crushed pine needles, and the cold, sharp tang of ancient steel. It was a scent that commanded every fiber of my being to kneel.
From the impenetrable shadows emerged a beast that defied nature. He was a wolf, but he was as large as a warhorse. His fur was the color of a starless void, swallowing the little moonlight that managed to pierce through the canopy. But it was his eyes that froze the blood in my veins—they were a piercing, crystalline violet, glowing with a power that felt older than the pack laws themselves.
A Midnight Alpha.
My breath hitched. I was no longer on Silver Moon land. I had crossed into the territory of the Midnight Eclipse Pack, the "Shadow Sovereigns" of the North. Stories said they were monsters who fed on the hearts of their enemies.
The massive black wolf prowled toward me, his movements fluid and silent despite his size. I should have been paralyzed by fear, but as he drew closer, the strange silver spark deep within my marrow flared to life. It wasn't the fear of a victim; it was the recognition of an equal.
I forced myself to stand, using the tree for support. I didn't bow. I didn't whimper. I stared straight into those violet orbs, my chin tilted in defiance.
The wolf paused, his head tilting slightly as if confused by my lack of terror. Then, the air began to shimmer and warp. The sound of shifting bones echoed through the clearing—a sound that usually made me wince, but here, it felt like a dark symphony.
Within seconds, the beast was gone. In his place stood a man who looked like he had been carved from the night itself.
He was towering, dressed in a long, obsidian-colored trench coat that swept against the forest floor. His hair was as dark as his wolf's fur, falling over a brow that was set in a permanent expression of cold arrogance. His face was hauntingly beautiful, but it was a lethal beauty—the kind that promised a sharp edge beneath the velvet.
This was Alpha Valerius. The man they called the Shadow King.
"A Silver Moon stray," he spoke, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that vibrated in the air. He didn't move, yet his presence seemed to fill every inch of the clearing. "And a broken one at that. Why are you bleeding on my soil, little girl?"
"I am not a stray," I managed to say, clutching the wound on my leg. "And I am not yours."
Valerius took a slow, deliberate step toward me. The temperature seemed to drop with every inch he gained. When he was only a foot away, he reached out a gloved hand, his fingers catching a lock of my hair, which had turned a ghostly, shimmering silver under the moonlight.
"You smell of a shredded bond," he whispered, his eyes narrowing. He leaned in closer, his nose grazing the sensitive skin of my neck, just above where my mate mark should have been. "The scent of Kaelen Vancour's rejection is foul. It reeks of cowardice."
I flinched at the mention of Kaelen's name, my heart twisting. "He chose a stronger Luna. He chose a wolf."
Valerius let out a soft, dark chuckle that sent a shiver down my spine—not of fear, but of something far more dangerous. He gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his violet gaze.
"Stronger?" he mused, his thumb brushing over my trembling lower lip. "He chose a common bitch because he was too weak to realize what he had. He looked at a dormant volcano and saw only a hill of ash."
He looked at my eyes, and for a moment, his stoic mask cracked. A flash of raw, predatory hunger crossed his features. "You are no 'Null', Skaya Miller. I can hear it... the heartbeat of something ancient beneath your skin. Something that makes even my wolf want to bow."
I felt a surge of heat at his touch, the silver flame inside me roaring in response. "What do you want from me, Alpha? If you're going to kill me, do it now."
Valerius's lips curled into a smirk that was both beautiful and terrifying. He suddenly swept me up into his arms, lifting me as if I were as light as a fallen leaf. My head fell against his chest, and for the first time in my life, the crushing weight of my rejection felt... manageable. His scent acted like a balm to my shattered soul.
"Kill you?" Valerius looked down at me, his eyes glowing with an intense, violet light. "No. I have a much more interesting plan."
He began to walk deeper into the heart of the Midnight Eclipse territory, his strides long and confident.
"Kaelen Vancour thinks he threw away a useless human," Valerius murmured, his voice laced with a promise of impending doom. "I want to see the look on his face when he realizes he gave his greatest enemy the key to his destruction."
I looked up at him, my vision starting to fade as exhaustion finally won. "Why help me?"
Valerius stopped at the edge of a massive cliff overlooking his sprawling, dark kingdom. He looked out at the horizon, then back at me, his grip tightening protectively.
"Because, Skaya," he whispered, his breath cold against my forehead, "a Queen belongs on a throne, and I've always found that revenge tastes better when shared with a Goddess."