Talia's POV Dawn breaks with the scent of rain in the air. The warriors-both Starlight and Misfit-kneel before Bran and me, their fists pressed over their hearts. This is the third day of our mating ceremony. The day we are to take the warrior's coat according to tradition. The warriors are to swear their oats to both I and Bran's reign. The ceremonial battle dress I'm wearing is unlike the flowing silks of the previous nights. It is not meant for beauty. It is meant for war. Black and silver, the fitted bodice wraps around my torso like armor, the material flexible yet unyielding. The sleeves end just past my elbows, laced with wolf insignias that tell the story of both packs-the Starlight Pack's sigil intertwined with the Misfit's crest, a reminder that we are one. A silver sash is tied at my waist, its fabric softer than the rest, marking my status as Luna. My boots are lined with wolf fur; my arms are braced with leather cuffs engraved with battle runes. For the first time,
Talia's POV The fifth day of the mating ceremony is the most sacred of all. Tonight, Bran will mark me. The ritual is more than a physical act-it is a declaration to the pack, to the Moon Goddess, and to the universe itself. From this moment on, there will be no doubts, no uncertainties. I will be his. And he will be mine. The marking takes place in the heart of the pack's sacred ground, a circular clearing surrounded by towering trees and glowing lanterns. A massive bonfire burns at the centre, its flames crackling as wolves gather in hushed anticipation. The scent of pine and burning sage lingers in the air, meant to purify the moment. I stand near the fire, my heart pounding. My dress is deep crimson, the colour of passion and permanence. The bodice is fitted but not restrictive, embroidered with silver thread in the shape of swirling star patterns. A flowing cape falls from my shoulders, edged with Misfit and Starlight symbols-proof that two worlds are becoming one. Lyric, L
Talia's POV Morning light filters through the curtains, warming Bran's room. The guy next to me radiates more heat than the sun. I woke up next to him for the first time as his mate. Bran holds me tightly, and I feel his steady breath. His warm skin touches mine, and the cedarwood scent mixed with his envelops me pleasantly. I shift slightly, and he grips harder. A sleepy rumble comes from his chest. "Where do you think you're going?" I smile and tilt my head back to see him. His golden eyes droop slightly from sleep, yet they sparkle playfully. His hair looks wild and messy; I want to touch it. "I wasn't going anywhere," I murmur. "Not yet, at least." Bran happily hums and draws me closer. His lips brush my shoulder, sending warmth through me. "Good. Because I'm not ready to let you go." I roll my eyes despite my racing heart. "You don't own me." Bran smiles bigger. "Oh, but I do. Just as much as you own me." He lightly trails his fingers along my spine, igniting sparks ben
Bran's POV I feel warmth as soon as I wake up. The morning sun streams through the curtains, but Talia's weight in my arms feels destined. She adjusts, her breath lightly touching me. A new sense of tranquillity fills me, something I haven't felt until now. Talia belongs to me. More than just a name, a mark on her neck, or our vows to the pack. She trusts me enough to sleep peacefully next to me. Her heartbeat syncs with mine, steady and strong. I hold her close, pressing my face into her hair to savor her sweet fragrance. She softly speaks, barely audible, moving but not waking up. I smirk. For a long time, I convinced myself that claiming her was all I needed. Once the ritual was complete, the mate bond would settle all odds, and I wouldn't worry about losing her. But the truth is, I will always be afraid. Talia is more than my friend. She is my haven. I won't let her go again. She turns to face me in my arms. Her dark lashes flutter, and her blue eyes lock onto mine. Her
Talia's POV A knock at the door shatters the peace of the evening. Bran and I exchange a look, our quiet moment on the balcony broken by the soft but urgent sound. A palace maid stands at the threshold, her head slightly bowed in respect, but there's something anxious in her posture. "Alpha, Luna," she says, her voice careful. "Your mother and Lady Merle have arrived. They are waiting in the visiting room." The air stills around me. My mother and Aunt Merle together? Aunt better be prepared to answer my questions this time around. I glance at Bran, who nods without hesitation. "Thank you," I say to the maid steadily, but my mind is anything but. Bran takes my hand as we move through the palace halls. He knows what this means-knows the questions that have been haunting me since the cookbook disappeared. If anyone holds answers, it's Aunt Merle. And I need those answers now. ******* In the visiting room, My mother stands near the window, her back straight but her fingers twistin
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
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
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
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