He Buried His Luna, Then She Returned Royal

I struck Vanessa’s wrist as she lunged, but fever had stolen my strength. The blade slid into my side. Silver spread poison through my blood in a burst of white agony.

She caught me before I fell.

“Why?” I gasped.

Her mouth brushed my ear. “Because Beta Cole from Silvercrest arrived this morning under your uncle’s seal. Alpha Alaric is asking why his niece has not answered his letters. If Cole sees you like this, Lucian loses allies, soldiers, perhaps his crown.”

My mother’s younger brother ruled the Silvercrest Pack beyond the northern mountains. He had wanted me sent to him after my parents died, but Lucian convinced the council that Frostfang needed its blood heir close.

I had written Uncle Alaric every month.

“You stopped my letters.”

“Most of them.” Vanessa twisted the dagger.

I bit down on a scream.

“Lucian doesn’t know you’re killing me.”

“He ordered Beta Cole kept away from the dungeons.” Her eyes gleamed. “He ordered everyone told you were ill. I’m only making the lie permanent.”

She pulled the knife free.

I dropped to my knees. Blood spread across my dress. My wolf was too weak to force a shift, but she bared tiny teeth in my mind.

Vanessa raised the dagger again.

The outer door boomed.

She froze.

A guard shouted. Metal struck stone. Then came a growl so deep the dungeon walls seemed to answer it.

The door flew inward.

A man filled the opening, tall and armored in black leather beneath a travel-stained cloak. Snow melted in his dark hair. Blood marked one cheek, not his own. His eyes burned a molten gold I had only seen in elite Alpha-born warriors.

Behind him lay two Frostfang guards.

Vanessa seized my hair and put the blade against my throat. “One step and she dies.”

The stranger looked at me.

His gaze moved over my hollow cheeks, bloody dress, and bare feet. Fury tightened every line of his body, but his voice remained level.

“Lady Evelyn, did this woman imprison you?”

“Yes.”

“Did she stab you?”

“Yes.”

He looked back at Vanessa. “Then she has already taken her last free breath.”

Vanessa pressed the blade harder. “I am the Alpha’s bride.”

“You are standing between me and the last living daughter of Luna Seraphine.” His claws extended.

He moved faster than sight.

One moment Vanessa held me. The next, her wrist snapped in his hand. The dagger clattered away. He caught me against his chest while she screamed.

Heat surrounded me. His scent—pine, steel, and winter lightning—cut through the dungeon rot. My body, starved of safety, sagged into him before pride could object.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

“I can try.”

“No time.”

He lifted me. One arm went beneath my knees, the other braced my back without touching the wound. The controlled gentleness felt more intimate than any embrace Lucian had given me in months.

Vanessa scrambled toward the stairs.

The stranger kicked the silver dagger across the floor. It pinned her cloak to the wood.

“You’re leaving her?” I asked.

“Alive,” he said. “Witnesses are more useful when they can confess.”

Across the corridor, Silas erupted into wild laughter. “Sword wolf! Sword wolf cuts the liar’s tongue!”

The stranger glanced at him. “Who is that?”

“Silas Crowe. He has evidence about Hollow Ridge.”

Silas snapped his teeth at empty air.

Most men would have dismissed him. The stranger carried me to the doorway, then returned and tore Silas’s cell lock apart with one clawed hand.

“You’re coming,” he told the old man.

Silas saluted. “Yes, General Moon.”

We climbed toward chaos.

Wedding guests crowded the keep’s main hall while Silvercrest warriors fought Frostfang guards near the entrance. At their center stood a gray-haired man in a blue Beta’s mantle—Cole, my uncle’s envoy.

His face changed when he saw me.

“Moon Goddess,” he whispered.

“Beta Cole,” the stranger said. “Prepare the horses.”

A roar shook the hall.

Lucian came down the staircase wearing ceremonial black. A silver wedding clasp gleamed at his throat. For one impossible instant, he looked only at my blood.

Then he saw whose arms held me.

“Put my wife down.”

The stranger’s chest vibrated beneath my shoulder. “Former wife.”

Lucian’s eyes flashed. “You have no authority here, Voss.”

So he knew him.

“I carry Alpha Alaric’s blood warrant.” Voss shifted me enough to pull a sealed strip from his belt. “It grants me authority to retrieve his niece if she is endangered. I found her in your dungeon with a silver wound.”

Vanessa appeared behind us, clutching her broken wrist. “He attacked me! Evelyn tried to escape.”

Lucian’s gaze locked on my face. “Evie. Tell me what happened.”

I almost laughed. Now he wanted my words.

“She tried to kill me,” I said. “Like she killed our child.”

Vanessa went pale.

Lucian flinched, but his voice hardened. “You’re fevered.”

Voss’s arms tightened around me. “She answered clearly.”

“This is a pack matter.”

“It became a Silvercrest matter when you concealed her condition from her blood kin.” Beta Cole held up a stack of opened letters. “We found these in Beta Reed’s office. Lady Evelyn’s correspondence never left Frostfang.”

Murmurs spread among the guests.

Lucian looked toward Marcus, but the Beta had vanished.

I watched calculation pass across my former husband’s face. If he stopped my uncle’s men by force, he risked war. If he let me leave, I could tell the truth.

His hand curled on the banister.

“Evelyn is unwell,” he said. “She needs her pack.”

“My pack locked me beneath the earth.”

His mask cracked. The bond was gone, yet I felt the memory of it ache between us.

Lucian took one step closer. Voss bared his teeth.

The sound stirred something low in my exhausted body—not desire, not yet, but an awareness of male power utterly different from Lucian’s polished command. Voss did not smell conflicted. He smelled like a blade already drawn.

“Move,” he told Lucian.

“I am her Alpha.”

“Not anymore.”

Silence dropped over the hall.

Lucian’s eyes found mine. “If you leave with him, you cannot return and pretend nothing happened.”

I looked at the man I had loved since girlhood.

“Nothing happened?” I said. “Our child is dead. Your revenge is complete. Why would I ever return?”

Pain crossed his face so swiftly I might have imagined it.

He stepped aside.

Voss carried me through the doors into falling snow. Cole and six Silvercrest warriors formed a shield around us. Silas rode tied safely to a packhorse, arguing with the moon.

At the edge of the courtyard, shouts rose behind us.

An arrow hissed past Voss’s shoulder.

He turned, shielding me with his body. On the keep wall, a masked archer nocked another silver-tipped shaft.

“Ride!” Voss ordered.

Cole helped me onto a horse, but Voss mounted behind me rather than surrender me to another rider. His chest braced my back. One hand closed around my waist, firm enough to hold me through the pain.

“Who are you?” I asked as the gates opened.

“Ronan Voss.” His mouth was near my ear, his breath warm against frozen skin. “Your uncle sent me to bring you home.”

Another arrow struck the saddle.

Ronan bent over me and drove the horse into the storm.

Behind us, Frostfang Keep disappeared beneath white darkness.

Ahead, the forest filled with the howls of men sent to make sure I never reached home.