The stronghold was alive with song. Even at dawn, when wolves should have been slow to rise, the air quivered with celebration. Drums carried from the gathering grounds, paws stamped against the earth, voices lifted to the sky in thanks to the Moon Goddess. The sound poured through the corridors like a tide, relentless, unstoppable.
Liora walked against it.
Her steps were slow, deliberate, heavy with dread. The stone beneath her boots felt uneven, as though the earth itself shifted beneath her. Her cloak trailed at her heels, damp at the edges from her time by the river, her body aching from a night spent without rest.
She could still hear the river rushing in her ears. She could still feel the sobs scraping her throat raw. She had screamed until her voice cracked, until her chest burned. And yet when the morning came, she found herself walking toward Gonzalo's chambers.
Because she had to know. She waited for this. She came back for revenge but somehow that pretending betrayer, Nyssa convinced her to let go of vengeance. And now she regrets it.
Her hand brushed the dagger at her hip, the familiar weight grounding her. It pulsed faintly, not the frantic beat it had throbbed with when Vanya's shadow returned, but steady, slow, patient. Like a heart biding its time.
The guards at the Alpha's door bowed low when they saw her. Respect. Fear. She no longer knew the difference.
She pushed the door open without waiting for permission.
The chamber was vast, lit by the glow of the hearth. Gonzalo stood by the window, his back to her, shoulders squared. Even in silence, he carried power like armor, like a second skin. His cloak was heavy fur, white and gold, catching the firelight in brilliant flashes.
"Gonzalo," she said. "I see you've been too busy for me since she got back."
His head turned slightly, acknowledging her, but he did not move from the window. "Liora…No. It's not like that and you know it."
"I don't know what I know anymore." Her throat tightened. She stepped into the room, letting the door close behind her with a dull thud. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The crackle of the fire filled the silence, mingling with the distant thrum of celebration outside.
Finally, she drew in a breath. "What happens now?"
"I don't understand." Gonzalo's shoulders shifted, almost imperceptibly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the horizon beyond the stone walls. "Now?"
"Yes." Her voice wavered despite her efforts to keep it steady. "Vanya walks again. The pack worships her. They call it a blessing. They call her the Moon Goddess's gift." She swallowed hard. "Where does that leave me?"
He turned then, slowly, deliberately. His eyes dark, piercing fell on her, and the weight of them nearly sent her to her knees.
"You are strong," he said simply. "And brave…"
It wasn't enough.
Her heart twisted. She stepped closer, fists clenched at her sides. "Strong is not an answer. I am your mate. I am your Luna. Or was I only ever… a place holder?"
His jaw tightened. Was it a regret? It passed through his gaze, gone as swiftly as it came.
"You knew," she whispered, the words trembling out of her. "Didn't you? Somewhere deep down, you knew she wasn't truly gone. You knew you'd never truly let go of her. What did i ever do to make you not choose me first? I gave you everything you wanted and more…"
Gonzalo's silence was damning.
Her chest cracked open, pain clawing at her ribs. Tears pricked her eyes, but she forced them back, grinding her teeth until her jaw ached. "Tell me what happens now," she demanded. "Tell me where I stand."
He inhaled slowly, deeply, as though the weight of her question demanded air enough to bear it. "The pack will look to her," he said at last. His tone was calm, measured, but there was steel beneath it. "They already do. She was their Luna before. She is…"
The door slammed open.
Both their heads snapped toward it.
Vanya stepped inside.
The room seemed to shrink, air thickening around her presence. She moved with unshaken confidence, her cloak brushing the stone, her pale scars glowing faintly in the firelight. Her eyes locked on Liora instantly — cold, sharp, too knowing.
Liora's body stiffened. The dagger at her hip pulsed harder, hotter, as if it recognized the one it had once tasted.
Vanya's lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. Something in between.
"I am the true Luna," she said, her voice steady, carrying across the chamber with chilling ease. "And it is time the false one steps aside."
The words sliced the air.
Liora's breath hitched. Her body shook, rage and grief battling in her chest. Her fingers curled so tightly into fists that her nails bit into her palms, drawing blood.
Gonzalo did not move. His silence thundered louder than any howl.
Liora swallowed the scream clawing its way up her throat. She held back the tears that burned her eyes. She forced herself to stand tall, chin high, even as her insides shattered.
The fire crackled, the distant drums pounded, and Vanya's words hung heavy in the air.
The true Luna.
The false one.
Liora's world crumbled around her.