Chapter Four — A Wolf’s Snare
972 Words
Business comes before blood.
That is the law I carved for myself the day I walked out of Ravaryn’s fortress with nothing but a handful of steel-eyed men who swore loyalty to me alone. My father’s pack rots under his rule, but rot spreads slowly; I could not afford to drown in it. Better to build my own empire brick by brick, tooth by tooth.
But when word reached me that the old wolf was about to take another Luna, I laughed.
“Your father’s appetite knows no shame,” Jarek, one of my lieutenants, muttered as we rode through the frost-bitten woods.
“He’s an old fool grasping at relevance,” I sneered. “Each new bride is just another piece of meat to prove he still has teeth. This time, I’ll go back and watch him choke on it.”
Because there is satisfaction in witnessing weakness dressed as power. And no matter how far I run, part of me will always hunger for the day Malrik Ravaryn falls.
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The great hall smells the same as it always has—wine, smoke, and arrogance. Torches burn in iron sconces along the stone walls, their light spilling across the gathered crowd. Warriors, advisors, parasites—all watching, waiting.
At the dais, my father stands broad and smug, one jeweled hand wrapped around a goblet, the other around the arm of the girl he intends to crown Luna.
I almost laugh again—until I see her face.
Selene.
Silver-threaded blood. The girl who fled the pyre. The girl whose eyes found mine in the torchlit clearing, the mate bond snapping taut between us like a chain.
For a moment, the hall tilts sideways. The goblet slips in my hand, wine splashing across my fingers. I do not move. I do not breathe.
Fate, it seems, enjoys its little games.
My mate. My stepmother.
“Today,” Malrik announces, his voice booming with theatrical pride, “I take Selene Duskbane as my Luna. A union of strength, and a gift from fortune herself.”
The crowd cheers. Fools, all of them.
My jaw tightens until I hear bone creak. I force my gaze from her to him—my father, swollen with arrogance, oblivious to the storm gathering at his feet. He sees a prize. I see my undoing.
No. I will not allow it.
---
That night, I set my trap.
The fortress knows me still—its corridors, its hidden doors, its forgotten passageways. It does not forget its true heir. I give orders to my men quietly, scattering them like shadows through the halls. Torches are dimmed. Guards are redirected. The wing my father favors is locked down by hands that will not answer his call.
He will not touch her. Not tonight.
And when the hour grows late, when the revels die and the torches gutter low, I make my move.
---
I find her alone in the corridor, the moonlight spilling across her pale face as she stands before the heavy oak door of the Luna’s chamber. Her hand hovers over the latch, trembling just slightly.
“Don’t,” I say.
She whirls, eyes flashing, cloak brushing against the stone wall. For a heartbeat, neither of us breathes. The bond hums, furious and undeniable, weaving heat through the cold air.
“You,” she breathes, voice taut as a bowstring.
“Me,” I answer, stepping out from the shadow.
Her gaze flickers to the door behind her, then back to me. “Why are you here?”
I let a thin smile cut across my mouth. “To stop you from making a mistake you’ll never recover from.”
Her chin lifts, bold despite the tremor in her hands. “You think I came here by choice? You think I wanted this?”
“No,” I say flatly. “But choice has little to do with survival. I know that better than anyone.”
The silence between us crackles. The scent of her—smoke, steel, something bright beneath it all—threads around me, burrowing into the cracks I’ve built walls against. I want to step closer. I want to drag her away. I want to do nothing at all, because every desire is a weakness.
“You should leave,” she whispers, as if she senses the battle under my skin.
“You’re my father’s Luna now.” The word tastes like ash. “That makes you the one thing I cannot ignore.”
Her eyes flash. “And what does it make me to you?”
For a moment, I almost tell her the truth. That she is the mate I never expected. The bond I never wanted. The fire that could burn down everything I’ve built.
But ambition steels my tongue.
“Nothing,” I lie. “Just another pawn in his game.”
Her lips part, anger flaring, but before she can speak, a heavy knock rattles the door at her back. Malrik’s voice booms, thick with wine.
“Selene. Open the door.”
Her face pales. My hand closes around her wrist before she can move.
“You’re not opening that,” I growl.
The knock comes again, harder. The handle rattles.
Her eyes lock on mine, wide, terrified, but blazing with something fiercer beneath. The bond thrums between us, an electric tether pulling taut as the old wolf waits on the other side.
If he forces the door, everything breaks.
“Stay silent,” I whisper, pressing her back into the shadows with me. “Tonight, you’re mine to protect.”
The door shakes again. Malrik’s voice rises.
And in that breathless instant, caught between the bond’s pull and the Alpha’s fury, I realize I’ve set a snare not for my father—
but for myself.
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