After My Mate Stole Moonstones, I Ended His Reign

The invitation arrived on a Tuesday, delivered by Kane himself.

I was in my office, reviewing security reports, when he knocked—not with his usual confident rap, but with something softer, almost hesitant. I knew what it was before he even opened his mouth.

"Anastasia," he said, his voice carrying that false sympathy that had become so familiar. "I wanted to deliver this personally."

He held out a cream-colored envelope, its edges gilt with gold leaf. The Spring Solstice emblem was embossed on the front—a circle of silver moons surrounding a rising sun.

"The ceremony is this Saturday," he continued, his eyes watching me for any reaction. "I've arranged everything at the Great Hall."

I took the envelope without a word, my fingers brushing against his. Even that slight contact sent a jolt through our bond—a bond he clearly didn't feel anymore.

"It's going to be beautiful," he added, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Jemma has excellent taste."

I slid the invitation onto my desk, next to the reports of his treason. "I'm sure she does."

Kane's expression flickered—disappointment at my lack of reaction, perhaps. He'd expected tears, begging, maybe even a scene. Instead, he got the cool detachment of an Alpha who'd already planned his downfall.

"Will you be wearing the blue dress?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes calculating. "The one from last year's ceremony?"

"I'm not sure what I'll wear yet," I replied, meeting his gaze steadily.

He nodded, that pitying smile returning. "Well, whatever you choose, I'm sure it will be... appropriate."

As he turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes—triumph, carefully concealed. He thought he'd broken me. He thought I was isolated, alone.

He had no idea what was coming.

---

The pack crypts were silent except for the occasional drip of water from the stone ceiling. I followed the witch's apprentice through the winding corridors, my footsteps echoing against ancient walls.

"She's waiting for you," the young wolf said, stopping before an iron door etched with runes.

The witch looked up as I entered, her milky eyes reflecting the blue flame of the candles surrounding her workspace. She was old—older than anyone in the pack remembered—with hands like gnarled branches and hair like silver moss.

"Alpha Hudson," she greeted, her voice like dry leaves rustling. "You've come about the oath."

"Yes." I approached her table, where a shallow bowl of black stone waited. "It's time."

She nodded, understanding without explanation. "The boy you saved has become something else."

"He has." I rolled up my sleeve, exposing my wrist. "And now the oath must do what it was designed to do."

The witch produced a small blade—ceremonial, ancient. "A drop of blood to activate what was dormant."

I extended my arm over the bowl. The blade bit into my skin, drawing a single drop of crimson that fell into the darkness below.

"By blood given freely," the witch intoned, "by words spoken in truth."

The drop began to glow, spreading tendrils of light through the bowl like veins.

"If he acts with malice against the hand that fed him," I recited, "if he betrays the trust given in kindness."

The light pulsed stronger, responding to my words.

"His wolf shall be bound," the witch finished, her eyes suddenly clear and focused on mine. "His allies shall turn. His power shall crumble."

I felt it then—a shift in the air, in the bond between Kane and me. The trap was set.

---

The Moon Garden was unrecognizable.

Where once night-blooming flowers had swayed under moonlight, now only mud and construction debris remained. The excavators had been thorough, tearing out every trace of what had once been sacred ground.

I stood at the edge of the destruction, my heart pounding with each breath. Then I saw it—a shape beneath a tarp, half-buried in mud.

Mael's statue.

I moved forward slowly, my boots sinking into the soft earth. With trembling hands, I pulled back the tarp.

His face was streaked with dirt, but still beautiful. Still perfect. The marble wolf pup that had once stood proudly beneath the moon now lay broken and discarded.

"Hello, my little one," I whispered, brushing mud from his cheek. "Soon, we'll be together again."

I traced my fingers over his cold marble form, remembering the warmth of his tiny body in my arms. The way he'd laughed. The way he'd looked at Kane with such adoration.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. Or him."

The statue couldn't answer, of course. But as I covered it back up, I felt something shift inside me—the last remnant of the woman who had loved Kane Warren dying away.

In its place stood only the Alpha.

I walked back to the pack house, my decision made. In my chambers, I bypassed the dress Kane expected me to wear—the blue one from last year's ceremony. Instead, I opened the case that held my ceremonial Alpha armor.

Silver scales shimmered in the light as I lifted the breastplate, feeling its weight—the weight of responsibility, of leadership, of vengeance.

Tomorrow, Kane would learn what happened when you betrayed an Alpha.