Thessa's POV
I wake up screaming.
My hands claw at air, fighting invisible attackers. Marcus's knife. The warriors. My parents agreeing to my death.
"Easy." A cold hand presses against my forehead. "You're safe."
I jerk away from the touch, my back hitting something hard. Ice. I'm surrounded by walls of ice that glow with soft blue light.
The silver-eyed man sits beside me, watching with that same intense stare that makes me feel like he can see straight through my skin into my bones.
"Where am I?" My voice cracks. My throat is raw like I've been screaming for hours.
"The Frostlands. My home." He stands smoothly, moving to a shelf carved into the ice wall. "You've been unconscious for two days."
Two days?
I look down at myself. Someone changed my clothes. I'm wearing soft furs that smell like pine and winter. My hands are wrapped in clean bandages. The cuts on my face have been treated with some kind of salve that tingles.
"You undressed me?" Heat floods my face despite the cold.
"You were covered in blood and dying." He doesn't sound apologetic. "Modesty seemed less important than keeping you alive."
He brings me a cup filled with steaming liquid. I don't take it.
"Drink," he commands. "It's just tea. Herbs for healing."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead." He sets the cup on the floor beside me. "I've had two days to kill you in your sleep. I didn't."
Fair point.
I pick up the cup with shaking hands and sip. The tea tastes bitter but warmth spreads through my chest, easing some of the ache.
"What did you mean?" I ask quietly. "When you said I was a broken goddess?"
He sits back down, those silver eyes never leaving my face. "Tell me what you know about the Great Fracturing."
"It's a story. A myth. Something that supposedly happened thousands of years ago when the Moon Goddess died."
"It's not a myth." His voice goes hard. "Three thousand years ago, wolves got greedy. They wanted the Moon's power for themselves. They tried to steal it. And when she wouldn't give it freely, they killed her."
The way he says it—like he was there, like he watched it happen—makes chills run down my spine.
"Who are you?" I whisper.
"Erynd Frostborne. The last Guardian of the Moon." He leans forward. "When the goddess died, her essence shattered into thousands of pieces. Most dissolved. But some survived. Some embedded themselves in bloodlines, passed down through generations, waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"For someone strong enough to carry the full weight of divine power." His silver eyes burn into mine. "Someone like you."
I almost laugh but it comes out shaky. "I'm not strong. I'm Moonless. Broken. You saw what happened—"
"I saw a curse." Erynd cuts me off. "Someone put a powerful spell on you when you were young. It suppressed your true nature, made you appear weak, powerless. Made the goddess's light invisible to everyone, including yourself."
My hands start shaking so hard tea sloshes over the rim of the cup. "That's impossible."
"Is it?" He tilts his head. "Think, Thessa. Did you ever feel different? Like something was sleeping inside you, waiting to wake up?"
Yes. My whole life, yes. But I never told anyone because it sounded crazy.
"Who would curse me?" I ask. "Why?"
"Someone who knew what you'd become. Someone who wanted to keep you small and controllable." Erynd stands and walks to the ice wall, pressing his palm against it. The blue light brightens. "Someone who's probably very unhappy right now that you survived long enough to reach me."
My mind races. Who would know? Who would care enough to curse a baby?
"My parents," I whisper. "They must have known. They never protected me. They let Cadeirin banish me. They agreed to let Marcus kill me."
"Perhaps." Erynd doesn't look at me. "Or perhaps they were victims too. Cursed to forget what you really are. To see only what the spell wanted them to see."
That somehow makes it worse. The idea that my parents might have loved me once, before magic stole their memories.
"Can you break it?" I ask. "The curse?"
"It's already breaking." He turns back to me. "The moment you were rejected by an unworthy mate, the moment the Moon's blessing refused to bind you to him, cracks formed in the spell. Your near-death experience shattered it further. Soon it will fail completely."
"And then what?"
"Then you become what you were always meant to be." His expression is unreadable. "And every wolf in every pack will feel it when it happens. They'll know something fundamental just changed in the world."
Fear claws up my throat. "I don't want that. I don't want to be special or powerful or whatever you think I am. I just want to be left alone."
"Too late." Erynd crouches in front of me again, his silver eyes serious. "You were found, Thessa. The moment those warriors attacked you, the moment I saved you, you became visible to forces that have been searching for centuries. They're coming."
"Who's coming?"
"Everyone. Packs who want to control you. Priests who want to kill you before you disrupt their power. Alphas who think possessing you will make them invincible." He stands. "And your former mate, who just realized what he threw away."
My stomach twists. "Cadeirin?"
"His pack is already falling apart. Bonds weakening. Wolves questioning his authority. He thinks if he gets you back, if he can claim you properly this time, it will fix everything."
"I'd rather die."
"That can be arranged too." Erynd's voice is cold. "Many wolves would prefer you dead rather than free. A divine wolf they can't control is dangerous."
I set down the tea cup before I drop it. My whole body is shaking now. "So what do I do?"
"You learn to fight. You learn to use the power waking up inside you." Erynd walks to the shelf and picks up a long knife with a blade that shimmers like ice. "And you decide: do you want to be a victim forever, or do you want to become the thing everyone fears?"
He holds out the knife to me.
I stare at it. At him. At this impossible choice.
"I don't know how to fight," I say weakly.
"I'll teach you." His silver eyes hold a challenge. "But only if you choose to survive. Only if you choose to fight back against everyone who hurt you."
Maren's smiling face flashes through my mind. Cadeirin's disgust. My parents' silence. Marcus raising his knife.
Slowly, I reach out and take the blade.
It's heavier than I expected. Cold. Deadly.
"Good." Erynd nods once. "We start training tomorrow. For today, you rest and heal."
He moves toward the door but I stop him with a question. "Why are you helping me?"
He pauses, his back to me. Silent for so long I think he won't answer.
Finally: "Because I made a vow three thousand years ago to protect the Moon. I failed her once." His voice drops. "I won't fail again."
He leaves, the ice door sealing behind him with a soft sound.
I sit alone in the glowing blue room, holding a knife I don't know how to use, surrounded by walls of ice in a place that shouldn't exist.
My old life is gone. My family, my pack, my home—all of it destroyed in one night.
But maybe that's not a bad thing.
Maybe being Moonless was never the curse.
Maybe the curse was believing I was nothing.
I look at the knife in my hands. At the bandages covering wounds that should have killed me. At the ice walls that glow brighter when my heartbeat quickens.
Something inside me stirs. Not fear this time.
Something else.
Something that feels like waking up after a very, very long sleep.
The ice wall nearest me suddenly cracks. Just one line, thin as a hair, running from floor to ceiling.
I didn't touch it.
I didn't do anything.
Except think about power.
My breath catches. I reach out slowly and press my palm against the crack.
The ice burns cold against my skin. But underneath, I feel something else. Something warm. Like sunlight trapped in frozen water.
The crack spreads, branching out in a silver pattern that looks like tree roots.
Or lightning.
Or veins carrying blood.
"What am I?" I whisper.
The ice flares bright—so bright I have to close my eyes.
When I open them again, the crack is gone. But my hand glows faintly silver before fading back to normal skin.
Somewhere outside, I hear Erynd's voice: "Impossible. It's too soon. The curse should have taken weeks to—"
His words cut off.
Footsteps run toward my room.
The door slams open.
Erynd stands there, breathing hard, his silver eyes wide with something between awe and fear.
"What did you do?" he demands.
"Nothing! I just touched the wall—"
"The entire ruins lit up like a star." He stares at me. "Every piece of ice, every crystal. All of it responding to you." He runs a hand through his silver hair. "The curse isn't just breaking. It's already broken. And your power—" He stops. Closes his eyes. "They felt it. Every pack within five hundred miles just felt a divine pulse strong enough to wake the dead."
"What does that mean?"
Erynd opens his eyes and looks at me with an expression I can't read.
"It means," he says quietly, "we're out of time. They're coming for you. Tonight."