The Unwilling Luna And Her Three Mates

The first thing I learned about chasing the truth was that it rarely came quietly. It came with threats. With blood. With people who wanted you to stop asking questions. I stood in the middle of the Silver Ridge Pack's courtyard, my fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of my dagger as the rogue stared at me like he had already decided what I was worth. A prize. A weakness. A way to gain something. I hated that look. I had seen it before. People rarely saw Iris Thorn. They saw my father's daughter. They saw a name. A legacy. A story they had already decided was true. The rogue took another step forward. "Your father caused a lot of problems before he disappeared." My eyes narrowed. "You knew him?" A slow smile spread across his face. "Everyone knew Alpha Rowan Thorn." I didn't like the way he said his name. Not with respect. Not with fear. With bitterness. "What do you want?" His gaze moved over me. "That depends." "On what?" "On whether you are worth more alive or dead." The wolves around me tensed. So did I. Alpha Cedric stepped forward, his aura filling the courtyard. "You entered my territory uninvited." The rogue laughed. "You still think territory means something?" His eyes returned to me. "The world has changed, little Thorn." I hated the nickname immediately. "Call me that again, and you'll find out how much I've changed." A few wolves around us looked surprised. Maybe they expected me to hide. Maybe they expected the daughter of a fallen Alpha to be fragile. They were wrong. I had spent my entire life preparing for people like this. The rogue tilted his head. "You really are his daughter." I didn't wait for him to finish. I moved. The fight was quick. Not because I was stronger than him. I wasn't arrogant enough to believe that. But I was prepared. I had trained against opponents bigger than me, faster than me, and more experienced than me. Size didn't win fights. Control did. The rogue swung first. I dodged. His fist missed my face by inches. I used his movement against him, striking his side before stepping away. He recovered quickly. Too quickly. This wasn't an ordinary rogue. He was trained. The realization barely crossed my mind before he attacked again. This time, I wasn't fast enough. Pain shot through my shoulder as I hit the ground. Before he could move again, several Silver Ridge warriors surrounded him. The rogue looked annoyed, but he didn't fight. Instead, he looked at me. "You're looking for your father." It wasn't a question. My expression hardened. "How do you know that?" "Because everyone who carries the Thorn name eventually starts looking for answers." He stepped backward. "But be careful, Iris." The way he said my name made my stomach tighten. "Some truths are buried for a reason." Then he disappeared into the forest. Nobody spoke for several moments. I hated that. Silence always meant people were hiding something. Alpha Cedric looked at me. "You should leave." I frowned. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." "I came here for answers." "And you nearly got yourself killed." "I handled it." "Yeah .....Barely ." His words annoyed me because they were true. I looked away. He sighed. "You have your father's determination." I stiffened. "I'm not like him." "I didn't say you were." The Alpha's expression softened. "That might be the problem." I looked back at him. "What does that mean?" He hesitated. Then he said: "Your father spent his entire life protecting secrets." My heartbeat slowed. "What secrets?" But before he could answer, a messenger rushed toward us. "Alpha." Cedric turned. "What is it?" The messenger looked between us. "There was another attack." My eyes narrowed. "Where?" "The eastern border." "By the same rogues?" The messenger nodded. "But that's not all." A pause. Then: "They left something behind." Alpha Cedric's expression changed. "What?" The messenger swallowed. "A symbol." My stomach tightened. "What symbol?" The messenger looked at me. "The Thorn crest." That night, I barely slept. Someone was using my family's name. Someone wanted me to find something. Or someone wanted to make sure I never did. I sat near the fire, staring at the old dagger I carried. It had belonged to my father. The only thing I had left of him. For years, I wondered if I was chasing a ghost. But now I knew one thing. My father's disappearance was not the end of the story. It was the beginning. And someone out there was terrified that I would uncover the truth.