Sneers rippled through the court. Everyone knew Alyse was the favored consort-the frail beauty who'd supposedly saved the King's life. Me? The unwanted bride pawned off by a fallen house.
"Did you truly hate my unborn pup so much... that you would drown us both?"
I shook my head frantically, shackles clinking against stone.
Heavy boots echoed across the hall. Diego Byrd-Alpha King of the Western Wilds-descended the dais, power rolling off him in crushing waves.
He stopped before me. His leather-gloved hand seized my jaw, fingers digging in hard enough to crush bone.
"You venomous, wolfless creature." His voice was ice. "Alyse nearly froze to death saving my life. You owe her your existence. Yet you dared lay your filthy hands on her."
Pain lanced through my jaw. I forced my spine straight and met his golden-black glare head-on.
"I did not push her." I rasped. "She jumped into the shallows herself, you blind, arrogant fool."
A vicious flash sparked in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he held out his free hand. A servant placed a silver chalice into his palm.
Inside, a dark green liquid bubbled. The stench of concentrated wolfsbane and moon-nettle turned my stomach.
My healer's instincts screamed.
That was no ordinary poison. It was a sterilizing draught-blended to shred a female's reproductive meridians beyond repair.
"NO!"
I thrashed, kicking desperately at the chalice. Diego didn't flinch. His knee slammed across my thighs, crushing me into the marble.
"Since your heart is so black," he snarled, forcing my jaw open, "you are unworthy of ever carrying royal blood."
He tipped the chalice.
Scalding poison poured down my throat.
Liquid fire ripped down my esophagus. I choked, coughed, the vile concoction spilling past my lips onto my torn white gown. Agonizing heat tore through my lower abdomen, as though molten iron twisted through every organ.
I curled in on myself, clawing at the marble until my nails ripped clean off.
Diego stared down at me as if I were filth beneath his boot. He wiped his gloved hand clean, turned, and pulled the weeping Alyse into his chest.
"By my Alpha King's command," his voice rang out, glacial and absolute, "Camille is stripped of her Luna title. Drag this wolfless waste to the Abandoned Tower on the northern cliff. Let her rot there until the end of her days."
Guards seized my battered arms and hauled me backwards across the gleaming hall.
I bit down hard on the inside of my lip until I tasted blood. I refused-absolutely refused-to let a single whimper slip free.
Through the tangled mess of my hair, I glared daggers into Diego's broad, unrelenting back.
Laughter and jeers chased me down the colonnade.
The moment they tossed me through the rusted gates of the desolate tower, my knees scraped raw against broken stone. The iron door slammed shut with a boom that shook the walls. Chains rattled into place, swallowing the last sliver of moonlight.
In pitch blackness, I pressed trembling hands to my cramping stomach.
The poison was tearing me apart from the inside.
But just as darkness began to drag me under, a gentle white radiance surged to life within my consciousness.
My inner spiritual realm burst open.
There, the sacred healing spring of the Moon Goddess bubbled forth, flooding my meridians with pure, luminous water. It rushed through me, neutralizing every trace of toxin and knitting my broken body back together piece by piece.
And as the poison faded, something deeper stirred-a faint, white pulse buried in my core. My wolf. Not dead. Only sleeping.
From that night on, that sacred spring remained within me-a quiet sanctuary I could enter at will, where time slowed and my body and spirit could heal.
Five years later.
Golden morning light spilled through the narrow, high window, illuminating the spotlessly swept stone floor and bundles of dried herbs swaying from the rafters.
I stood before a cracked bronze mirror, running my fingers over my cheek.
The scars from that night had long since vanished.
Staring back at me was the face of a true White Wolf royal-porcelain skin, luminous ice-blue eyes, features striking enough to bring empires to their knees.
"Mommy! Look at the new weapon I made!"
I turned with a smile.
In the corner, four-year-old Juliette Byrd tugged proudly at the leather strap of a crudely-made slingshot, dark hair in two bouncy pigtails, obsidian eyes sparkling with mischief.
Behind her, clutching a comically oversized black iron soup pot like a shield, was her twin sister, Adell Byrd. Soft curls framed wide, worried eyes.
The sterilizing draught had failed miserably.
The Moon Goddess' spring had protected the royal twins I'd already been carrying that cursed night.
I crouched down, tucking a loose curl behind Adell's ear.
"Tonight," I said quietly, "we leave. All three of us. We'll slip past the outer wall before the moon rises."
Juliette's eyes lit up. Adell clutched her pot tighter.
"Where will we go, Mommy?" Adell whispered.
"South. Past the river. Somewhere he'll never find us."
I turned back to the wash basin to rinse the morning herbs, my mind already mapping the escape route.
Less than ten minutes later, I glanced over my shoulder.
The room was empty.
My heart slammed into my throat.
The heavy back door hung slightly ajar, letting the frigid northern wind howl through the crack.
On the table sat a scrap of parchment. Juliette's messy drawing-a lopsided little wolf toy, with a crooked arrow pointing outside. Underneath, one wobbly word: BACK.
Adell's carved wooden wolf-the first toy I'd ever made her, the one she never slept without-was gone from her pillow.
I bolted outside, following two tiny sets of footprints through the mud-straight towards the ancient, moss-covered outer wall.
Before I could reach them, the unmistakable clink of steel plate and the menacing growl of a war wolf rang out from the other side.
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