Alpha Axton's POV The wind howls through the treetops, carrying the distant murmur of the pack settling in for the night. The torches around the training grounds flicker, their glow barely reaching the forest's edge. I stand at the perimeter, watching as the flames dance, casting restless shadows over the ground. This is my burden. The Misfit Pack. A collection of wolves marked unworthy by wolves in the Packs, rejected, cast aside, left to fend for themselves. I took them in, built a home for them, and swore to protect them. But deep down, I know the truth, and the truth is I'm not capable enough to protect them. All these years, I had hopes of having a wolf, but it never happened. My fingers tighten around the edge of my cloak. No one knows about this. They assume my strength and control come from something more than sheer willpower. But the truth is just as they are, I'm also powerless because I'm wolfless and a human. The weight of my title presses heavier each day. I stand
Bran's POV The meeting hall of the Starlight Pack is filled with the Pack members, but there is a suffocating silence. Wolves of all ranks stand shoulder to shoulder, waiting for me to speak. Their expressions range from cold indifference to quiet rage. Some look betrayed, some weary and others disappointed. The truth is that they have every right to be. Their Alpha has failed them by bringing a deceitful Luna. I stand at the head of the long stone table, the weight of their stares pressing down on me like chains. The air is thick with unsaid accusations and unspoken grievances. This meeting was called by the elders, but everyone here knows why. This is for an Alpha who wasn't capable enough to protect his subjects. I failed them, so whatever their decision is tonight, I will accept. Because the Luna I chose one I put before all else nothing more than a lie wrapped in silk and honeyed words. I clear my throat, my voice steady despite the unease curling in my gut. "The verdict o
Talia's POV Tonight's the night we all have been waiting for. The full moon. All of us are on standby. The town is buzzing with excitement. Wolves are getting the ceremonial ground ready, lighting up the bonfire in the centre of Town. Burning sage fills the room with its aroma, designed to freshen things up and welcome any wolf who would be blessed with a transformation tonight. Warriors sharpen their blades not because they plan to war but because shifting is unpredictable, and a misfit's transformation could go very wrong. And here I am. Perched on the corner of my bed. Gazing at the moon's glow peeking over the trees. I feel a knot in my stomach. For years, I accepted my fate that I was wolfless, rejected and useless in the eyes of my old pack. But now, after everything, Axton's revelations, the crystal and the visions, I can't help but wonder what if I shift tonight? Or after After Axton's expectations what if I don't shift? I flinch when someone knocks on my door. "Talia
Talia's POV The Misfit wolves have spent the entire morning preparing for the coronation. It feels surreal. Last night, I found it hard to breathe under the heavy full moon, caught between who I am and who everyone said I could never become. As the sun comes up over Misfit Town today, I find myself at the centre of something way bigger than me. I never imagined this would be my destiny. The streets hum with life as wolves rush back and forth, setting up for the ceremony. The town event centre, once a gathering place for celebrations and rare moments of unity, has been transformed into something grand. The entrance looks stunning with garlands of woven ivy and moon lilies, their silver-white petals sparkling in the sunlight. The tables are filled with delicious food like roasted meats, honey cakes, and fresh fruits. Wolves shine up their ceremonial torches to make sure the flames light up by night. I hear whispers as I pass, going home to get ready. "She shifted." "A Hidden Alp
Bran's POV I don't sleep that night. I sit on the edge of my bed, staring out the window at the moonlit sky, listening to the rustling of the trees beyond the packhouse. My body is still, but my mind is a storm as I keep remembering Talia. Her name keeps circling back to me like a curse I can't shake, a whisper in my head that refuses to fade. I try to justify it. Tell myself that I just need closure and that I need to make sure she's alive, and also to confirm if my rejection hasn't completely ruined her life. But deep down, I know that's a lie. This wasn't about making sure of these things, but to bring her back and the fact that, despite everything, my rejection and all, I now want her more than ever. I don't know why it took me this long to think about her. Fabian stirs inside me, his presence stronger than it has been in months. "You're finally using that brain of yours, huh?" he muses, his voice filled with amusement. I rub my temple. "Not now, Fabian. I need your suppor
Bran's POV I've been traveling for one day. Just one and I have already gotten lost three times, almost broken my ankle on an exposed tree root, and am currently covered in mud from an unfortunate encounter with a very aggressive puddle. Fabian, my helpful wolf, has been laughing at me in the back of my mind since sunrise. He's not helping the situation at all. This just adds to my frustrations. I don't blame it, though; I deserve all his mocking. "You should have brought a scout," he muses. I scowl, trudging through the underbrush, my boots squelching with every step. "I don't need a damn scout." "No, of course not," Fabian drawls. "You're doing just fine on your own because you're going the wrong way again." I ignore him or let me say I try. I pull out the crumpled map I stole from the pack archives. It's supposed to lead to the outskirts of the Misfit Territories, where rogue wolves sometimes settle. Where I think Talia might be. I squint at the lines, then at the road ahea
Bran's POV The past few days have taught me this the hard way with bruises, humiliation, and the trauma of nearly being assassinated by a goat. But if I want to find Talia, I need to stop drawing attention to myself. Walking into rogue towns with an Alpha's posture, voice, and presence is about as subtle as waving a giant banner that says "Look at me, I am important. Please rob or stab me." So, for the sake of self-preservation, I decided to blend in. Since I'm in rogue territory, I will become one of them, and no one will suspect a thing. The problem with acting like a rogue is that disguising myself is even harder than expected. I start by slouching. Fabian watches in as I attempt to walk with a careless, roguish air, only to look like I have a severe spinal injury. "Stop that for the love of the Moon," he groans. "You look like you need a chiropractor." I loosen up my shoulders and try to shuffle along instead of striding with my usual confidence. It just doesn't sit right.
Bran's POV I've hit the lowest point possible. Not only did I get beat up and tricked, but I also got humiliated in front of people. Now I'm one boot short and asking for help from a half-blind, lonely fortune-teller who might not even be able to help. I just hope I'm still sane, cause this whole situation of mine sucks. This is what my life has come to, but it's just fine anyway, so far it leads me to a reasonable point. And that's when I finally found my mate. Fabian doesn't fail to constantly remind me of my pain as he gives a dramatic sigh. "You do realize how ridiculous this is, right?" "Yes, Fabian," I mutter. "I am painfully aware." The old rogue town is a crumbling mess of wooden shacks and dusty streets, the kind of place where people either drink themselves into oblivion or disappear entirely. And somewhere in this pit of despair, there's a woman who, according to rumor, can see the future. Or, at the very least, point me in the right direction. I find her at the edg
POV: The New Seer of the Dark Council (Council of the East)I see her.Even before the stars split.Even before the Moon Goddess lays her hand on her heart.I see the girl awakening.Not with my eyes or with the cursed black things that smoulder in my head and glow when they shouldn't. But deeper. The way roots see water underground. The way wolves hear a storm coming before the first drop falls.Talia.Her name echoes inside me like it's written behind my teeth.She stands in that dream-space, her spirit wide open, and I'm there-barely, briefly. A shadow just outside the light.I wasn't supposed to see her that clearly.But I did.And now I can't unsee her.Her light. Her fear. Her power.The Moonstone has chosen her, and the trials have begun.I sit motionless in the far end of the council chamber, body still as bone, even as the fire in the center crackles and spits dark orange sparks.I don't speak until I must.Until I feel them watching me. The Council of the East-seven old clo
POV: TaliaTalia's body is still in Misfit Town.She lies motionless in her bunk, one hand still faintly glowing with the pulse of the stone. Bran is the first to find her. He had followed the ripple of magic that burst through the trees when she touched the stone. Now, he kneels beside her, his face pale with fear, trying not to panic.But this isn't about her body. It's about where her spirit has gone.Talia opens her eyes to skyless light. She's no longer in the woods or her room or anything that feels familiar. Everything around her is soft and glowing, like the space between stars had taken shape.This place isn't real in the way real places are. It feels more like memory and meaning stitched together. There's no ground, but she doesn't fall. No air, but she can breathe.In front of her, a tall stone arch rises out of nothing. Symbols glow along its edges-the same ones that had appeared on her arms. The same rhythm and same pull.A voice echoes across the space.Talia, Keeper of
Aunt MerleComing back to Misfit Town without being seen was never simple. But this time, it was more than just secrecy-I couldn't let anyone see me carrying the stone. Only the one meant to carry its power should lay eyes on me right now.That's why I used the bone ash spell. Just enough to hide myself from the senses of others. The magic made sound slip away from me and light bent around me. It wasn't perfect. But it was enough.I moved quietly past the outer trees of the town just before sunrise, the stone wrapped tightly in moon cloth and held close to my chest. It wasn't heavy, not in the usual way, but it throbbed with heat and energy-like it had its heartbeat. It didn't feel human. It didn't feel alive. But it was something old. Ancient.With each step closer to the heart of the town, the air changed. It started to hum softly. Like the ground and the trees could sense what I was bringing. Like the town itself was deciding if I should be allowed in.The streets and homes hadn't
POV: TaliaI got up before dawn because something stirred me awake. Dead silence. I don't feel anything at all. It's only a switch. It felt like the air just ditched the world I was familiar with.I sat upright in bed, my breath hanging somewhere between snoozing and shouting. My room still sat in darkness, with the curtains hardly moving. My arms were on fire.I rolled up my shirt sleeves and took a look.Marks. Faint and glowing. It feels like starlight veins running from my wrists to the bend of my elbows. They beat along with my heart-actually, not my heart. Something that goes deeper. Something older.The stone. I haven't laid a finger on it or even seen it, but I can feel its pull. It's like a tune I haven't listened to, but it feels familiar. It's transforming me. I'm not sure how long this will last. Or who I'll turn into by the time it's over.I run my fingers over the glowing trails. They're cozy. Full of life. Not painful. Not yet."Bran?" I whisper, even though I know he's
Aunt Merle's POVIt moved the moment I did.Like it had been waiting for me.The corrupted guardian stepped forward, limbs wrong in all the ways that make your bones ache just looking. It's fur peeling like bark in the sun, muscles twitching under pale, half-dead skin. Its eyes glowed green-brighter now-flickering like candlelight trapped in rot.I didn't move at first. I let my breath settle. Let my pulse slow. Fear is a clever liar. It whispers things like you can't, you're too old, you failed once and you'll do it again.But I'm not here to win. I'm here to protect what needs to be protected.I reach into my bag, my fingers finding the vial of ashroot tincture. My sister made this once, back when she still believed we could hold the line against everything coming for us. I never liked the way it smelled-burnt leaves and regret-but it helps in moments like this. I dab a bit under my nose. It clears the air and sharpens me."Let's get this over with," I whisper, more to myself than t
Talia's POV Strange things are beginning to happen to me after our search for the cookbook in the archives. The first time it happens, I'm brushing dirt off a silver spoon half-buried beneath a pine root, and the second I touch it, the world turns upside down.Not like in the dramatic way people say, but like gravity forgets her job. My knees give, my vision fuzzes, and a weightless heat rushes behind my eyes, burning. A voice I don't recognize, and not mine-whispers something sharp and slanted. The spoon clatters to the ground."Hey!" Bran's voice cuts through the dizziness. "Talia-hey, look at me. Stay with me."I blink. His face is so close, framed by leaves and worry lines. His hands hover just inches from my shoulders, unsure whether to touch me or watch.I grab his sleeve. Just to make sure I'm here. Now. Not wherever that flash dragged me."I'm fine," I say, but it sounds like a lie even to me. My voice is raspy, too breathy."Liar. That's your lying face. Also your 'don't tel
Aunt Merle's POVThis night is way colder than I anticipated.Canada may be known for its brutal winds and icy cold, but there's something uniquely cold about the forests near Misfit town. It murmurs hidden truths. The old ones. Some that remember me, and some I'd rather forget.I stomp through the frozen ground, my boots crunching as I head down the winding trail into the thick woods, my satchel bouncing at my side with each brave step I take. In my bag, I've got some sage, nightroot, a couple of white candles blessed during a blood moon, and a solar power bank that I almost forgot until I felt like I should take it with me.I recognize this path. Even after so many years. Even after grief tried to bury it under layers of avoidance. There was a time when my sister and I carved our initials into one of these trees, laughing like we were still children, despite being mothers by then. My fingers brush against the bark of that same tree as I pass. It no longer laughs. Me neither.This jo
Talia's POVAs we near the exit, an unseen force pulls at my chest. I gasp. I can't move my feet.Then-a pull.Not physical, not something I can fight. It goes deeper, touching my core. An air ripple, a time shift.Flames from the candle sway unpredictably, as if stirred by an unseen wind. The edges of the room fade away. My vision tunnels. My heartbeat slows, and then-Darkness.Then, light appeared.A vision.I'm out of the archives now.I stand in a moonlit clearing, surrounded by the smell of wet earth and pine. The trees whisper familiar voices, pulling me toward the sound.A figure kneels in the clearing, shaking with silent sobs. She is young, with a dirty and tear-streaked face, and her long dark hair is tangled in leaves.She looks at me with luminous, regretful eyes."Forgive me," she whispers, her voice breaking. "I never wanted this."A group of shadowy figures appears from the trees before I can move. They wear black, yet I sense their overwhelming power bearing down on m
Talia's POVThe air in the palace feels oppressive as if my aunt's words are pushing against me. I run my fingers along the wooden table in my study, my mind racing to find answers amid Aunt's revelations.The book was bound to me.My blood is needed to unleash its magic. Does that explain the figures I have been seeing lurking in the shadows? Are they out on a mission to take me?Thoughts swirl within me, weaving through unclear memories. My grandmother sacrificed herself for it, and now someone is ready to spill my blood for its power. This is just too much of a problem than I can imagine.Bran rests on his desk's edge, observing me intently. He crosses his arms, candlelight creating shadows on his face. Since my aunt's words, he remains quiet, yet I feel his discomfort swirling around us."What are you thinking?" He asks, at last, his tone calm.I slowly exhale, placing my hand on my forehead. "That I don't know nearly enough."His eyes show an unclear emotion. "Then let's change t