CHAPTER FOUR

I glare at my reflection in the full-length mirror, barely able to recognize the woman staring back at me. My bruises are hidden beneath layers of makeup, my skin polished to perfection, but I know the truth. The pain, the torment, the loss—it’s all still there, lurking beneath the surface. No amount of powder or fine silk can erase what has been done to me.

The gown is white, elegant, flowing like a river of moonlight around me. But to me, it is nothing more than a funeral shroud. My funeral.

The older woman, Esther, tightens the bodice while Abigail watches with teary eyes. "I wish there was something we could do to get you out of here" she whispers, her voice breaking.

I meet her gaze through the mirror, my own eyes hollow. "He has my sister," I remind her, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. "I don’t have a choice."

Esther’s hands pause for a fraction of a second before resuming their work, but Abigail lowers her head, defeated. I can see it in her trembling hands—she wants to stop this. But there is no stopping it.

A sharp knock shatters the moment. The door swings open, and Caleb steps in. Dressed in black, his presence alone suffocates the air in the room. "It’s time."

I inhale deeply, willing my body to move. My knees feel weak, but I force them to hold steady as I step forward.

The grand hall is bathed in flickering torchlight, the scent of burning sage and sandalwood thick in the air. Wolves, Mooncrest wolves, line the towering stone walls, their eyes watching my every move. Some are silent, others murmuring amongst themselves. They see me as an outsider, a conquered prize being paraded before them.

A low drum begins to beat—a deep, ancient rhythm that echoes through the hall, marking the beginning of the ritual.

At the far end of the room, beneath the towering arch of the ceremonial altar, Alderon Kane stands waiting.

Dressed in ceremonial black robes embroidered with silver runes, he looks every bit the powerful Alpha he is. His golden eyes lock onto mine, unreadable yet filled with the same dangerous amusement he always carries. He enjoys this—enjoys watching me walk toward my own damnation.

Beside him stands his family.

Lady Selene Kane, his mother, sits on a carved throne, her emerald gown pooling around her like flowing poison. A goblet of wine rests in her gloved hand, and her sharp gaze assesses me with something akin to approval.

To Alderon’s right stands Arthur Kane, his younger brother, with arms crossed. He looks like Alderon, yet not—where Alderon’s presence is suffocating, Cassius seems more reserved, as if he’s still deciding whether I deserve pity or not.

The drumming slows. The pack elder steps forward, his wolf-marked robes brushing against the floor as he lifts his hands. "The Moon bears witness to this union," his voice booms, filling the hall. "Under her gaze, two bloodlines intertwine, bound by fate and by the sacred bond of the Marking."

Alderon extends his hand, and I hesitate, my stomach twisting violently. I don’t want to do this. My wolf stirs inside me, restless, .

But then I remember—my sister.

He has her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I place my trembling hand in his. His grip is firm, his skin warm against mine. A stark contrast to the cold dread pooling in my chest.

The elder holds out a ceremonial dagger, its silver blade glowing under the torchlight. Alderon takes it without hesitation and slices his palm, dark blood welling from the wound. Then, before I can react, he reaches for my wrist.

"Do it," he orders, his voice steady, commanding.

I don’t move at first. My heart pounds so loudly it drowns out the world around me. The dagger feels impossibly heavy as I wrap my fingers around the hilt. My reflection gleams in its blade—a girl forced into a fate she never chose.

I press the tip against my palm. The sting barely registers over the suffocating weight in my chest. Blood wells, dark crimson pooling into my palm.

Alderon takes my bleeding hand in his, pressing it against his own.

The moment our blood mingles, fire erupts through my veins.

A gasp rips from my throat as my body arches, power surging into me like a wildfire, burning through every nerve, every muscle. The room spins. My vision blurs. The bond—ancient, unbreakable—lashes itself to my soul, carving its claim into my very being.

The pack howls in unison. The air trembles with their voices.

Pain flares at my wrist, and I watch in horror as the Marking begins to form—silver runes twisting and curling beneath my skin, binding me to Alderon Kane forever.

It is done.

I am no longer just Rosella.

I am the Luna of Mooncrest.

Bound. Owned. Trapped.

Alderon tightens his grip on my hand, his golden eyes gleaming with something dark and victorious. "You belong to me now, little wolf."

And deep down, beneath my rage, beneath my hatred, a single terrifying thought claws its way to the surface—

Would I really be able to escape Alderon Kane.? will I ever be able to save my sister?. and will I ever be able to kill Alderon Kane just as I have promised myself?.