54

I feel his touch linger on my skin, on my cheek, on my neck, even minutes after he is gone.

I prepare for bed with my mind a whirl of thoughts, but I push them all aside when I snuggle with little Sammy in the living room. Tear stains mark his cheeks, and I tell him stories of my childhood and friends to comfort him and help him go back to sleep. I may not exactly remember what it was like going to sleep the first night after my parents were killed, but I do know every detail of the emptiness since, and the nightmares I've woken from when memories surface in my mind. I wasn't alone through the grief, and I won't let Sammy be, either.

We wake together and make breakfast, then both head out for training. Sammy and the other young pups run their own small laps and tumble together in the grass while Devanshi and I jog the trails that circumvent the training field.

"Did you hear what they found this morning along the western border, up near Stone's Pass?" she asks, her breath coming out in warms puffs that illuminate in the cool air from shafts of sunlight.

"No. You're the first person I've spoken to this morning." Everyone else seemed to steer clear of me, and I don't need to wonder why.

"Well, my dad just got back from patrolling the perimeter. He and a few of the guards came across over a dozen rogues, all dead. Torn limb from limb in the most gruesome way he's ever seen. Barely even wanted to talk about it."

A cold shudder runs through me, and I ask despite already having an idea of the answer. "Do they know who— or what— did it?"

Devanshi shrugs. "Maybe someone wanting revenge for Jasper's death. Or even some bad blood between the rogues themselves. There's a lot that goes on beyond our borders that we don't know about."

We finish our warm up run and meet with the other young warriors in the middle of the field. I catch Hamilton's eye before we begin one-on-one sparring, and he allows me a minute to talk away from the others.

"Those rogues found dead outside our border... was it Malachi who killed them?"

He glances at me sharply, the Beta's eyes glowing bright hazel in the early morning sunlight. "It's dangerous to ask those kinds of questions, Ariella." He flicks his gaze outward, as though checking that no one overheard us.

"You forget I'm Malachi's mate and know about his heritage."

Hamilton narrows his eyes on me, and I suddenly wonder how much he knows about Seneca's true nature and the type of blood running in Malachi's veins. Does this Beta even know he serves a demon Alpha?

I explain myself quickly, "Malachi said he was getting better at controlling his deadly urges, but I wouldn't blame him if he lashed out on those rogues. I know he's hurting deeply from what happened to Jasper. So it's okay. I want to know. Did he do that to them?" I try not to imagine the bloody scene, but images of the time I came across Malachi in the forest after having murdered the adulterer keep coming to mind.

With a slow intake of breath, Hamilton releases it. "Yes. It was him. I couldn't get to him in time to stop him."

Despite saying I was okay, my heart clenches. What kind of man did I declare my love to? "Was that the emergency you called him for last night? Did you know a group of rogues was near the border?" If the Alpha and Beta were in this together, protecting their borders from further attacks, why didn't they clean up the mess before guards found the grisly scene this morning and started asking questions?

"Emergency? I'm not sure what you mean. I didn't know about these rogues until after..."

I look up at Hamilton and frown. "You know, when you mindlinked Malachi last night, around midnight. He said—"

"I was fast asleep by midnight after debriefing till late. I didn't contact Malachi."

His words strike me dumb, and I blink in the bright sunshine as I look out towards the trees. Malachi said he had to leave and find Hamilton quickly, but if he was just lying to me...

I don't want to think about what this means to our relationship, to the love I professed to Malachi last night.

"Look, we have to begin training, so if you're done—"

"One more thing," I say quickly. "The main purpose of your trip to Justice Pack. Did you sort it out? Maybe that rogue is connected to the increase in them around our borders."

"I don't think it's connected. Zander's not the vindictive type. But he refused to talk to us anyway, so the trip was wasted. Which makes our loss even worse."

I just stare at him, processing this information which is confusing. "What? But why not? You went all that way because he arranged to have a decent conversation, and what did he even want it for? Maybe he was distracting you while the rogues attacked here? But no, that wouldn't make sense, because the rogues who attacked me wanted Malachi, yet they didn't know where he was. None of this makes sense." I ramble, spilling my thoughts as I tug at my hair between my fingers.

"Listen, detective, we can solve this later. But if you must know, the reason he wouldn't talk to us was because of you."

"Me?" I physically take a step back as his words slam into me.

Hamilton nods and replies with more than a hint of angry frustration in his voice. "He wouldn't talk about what he wanted until you were present."

The words keep going round and round inside my head, as my feet jog circles around the field.

The reason he wouldn't talk to us was because of you.

The rogue Zander, who may know more than we realise, is refusing to talk. We still don't know what he wants, since he won't tell us.

But maybe he has. Maybe Hamilton is keeping the truth from me. After what happened the last time the Alpha and his closest command told me their plans and I betrayed them, I don't blame the Beta for not trusting me. But would he cover it up and lie to me?

In the same way my mate is lying to me?

The fact neither of them trust me cuts deep. Losing close friends like this hurts. I'm tired. Weary. Sick of this.

But I need to keep going. Training isn't over, and Harlow called for an extra strenuous exercise routine that is meant to prepare us all for the heightened risk of rogue attacks. Everyone is alert, everyone is prepared.

Not all know exactly what happened while Malachi was away, but they do know their future Luna was abducted and tortured, along with the neighbouring pack's Alpha female. Some give me sympathy, others just ignore the fact it happened. They can sense the rift between Malachi and I, and don't want to risk taking sides in whatever is going on between us.

At least some people still have sense around here.

But I am going senseless. Crazy. Mad.

"They're calling for you," Devanshi startles me as she catches up and tugs on my elbow.

I slow my fast pace to walk with her. "Who? What do they want?"

Her dark brown eyes hold a frown, and my dry throat cries for water all the more.

"They say it's time for another challenge. A final test of your strength."

"What?" Who?" It seems I'm repeating questions, but until this makes sense in my mind, I will keep asking. My eyes follow hers to the group in the middle of the field. Hendrik is among them, as well as Hamilton and Harlow, surrounded by older warriors. They're all looking at me, and a wave of dread starts from the top of my head and washes over me until I feel faint.

"They say, you've been training long enough, and it's time to really prove you're worthy. With the Alpha soon turning twenty, they want to see you are ready before he accepts you as our Luna."

I barely hear Devanshi as I jog over to the circle. Subtly, I'm herded to the centre, all eyes on me in a scrutinising way. Their attention is heavy, causing my heart to pound and sweat to break out on my palms. I'm already slicked with sweat, the morning sun shining down brightly on us and displacing the cool temperatures.

"You ready to prove yourself, chicca?" Harlow steps in front of me and crosses her arms, a bright smile on her face that belies her true intentions. I cringe at her odd choice of nickname and how she appraises me with anything but personal pride. She and her brother have been training me, and it looks like all that effort is going to either pay off or push me out of the pack for good.

I can't fail again.

Again again.

It seems that's all I've been doing recently—failing—yet I can't afford that anymore. It's time to change my attitude and change my future.

I need to win.

"Who gives the challenge?" I look around at Harlow's friends, at Devanshi, at any girl other than Harlow.

"Me, of course. Wouldn't be a fair fight if it was anyone else, now would it? The best against the best, am I right?" Harlow flips her hair over her shoulder and I resist the urge to punch her smug smile right off her face.

Save it for the fight, I tell myself.

"Sure, if you want a rematch. But since I've been trained by the master herself, what makes you so confident I won't win?"

"Oh, I'm counting on you winning," she winks at me, and I'm thrown totally off guard.

"Then let's do this, shall we?" I say and mimic her opening stance, knees bent, arms loose by my side. Glancing at Hamilton, I see him frown. He seems to want this as little as I do. But his hands are tied against tradition; his rank forbidding him from questioning the ancient laws of dominance.

I swallow back the exhaustion I feel and school my face to be as expressionless as possible. A surge of confidence infuses every cell as I wait for the first move.

I've trained and sparred against so many of these strong warriors.

I've fought a rogue and killed him.

This is just a simple challenge, a display of strength and prowess.

I can do this.

Her fist comes towards me, but it's a diversion from her knee which angles up towards my chest. It would knock the wind from me but I sidestep, rotating my body and leaping into a kick. I barely graze the back of her legs, before the Beta female spins in time to cut her palm upwards and slam it into my chin.

With rattling teeth, I step back but regain my footing. This is nothing new. We've done this dance numerous times before, I just need to keep a level head and outwit her at her own game. She has a weakness somewhere, I'm just still trying to figure it out.

We keep going like this for the next few minutes, drawing cheers from the crowd and some boos. I get the impression that most are on Harlow's side, but this doesn't surprise me.

Catching Hendrik's eyes, I see in them friendly encouragement, but in that moment's lack of concentration, Harlow gets in a hit and I stumble to my knees.

"What's the matter, Ella Bella? Getting a little tired?" She taunts even as I spring back up and lunch myself at her. Leaping out of the way like a sure-footed fox, she spins back and hits me again in the stomach.

I gasp and double over, but I have enough strength to grab her arm and twist it behind her back.

"I'm just getting warmed up," I whisper in her ear, then shove her down. A few cheers are flung from the crowd around us, but more cries of encouragement for Harlow are repeated in our ears.

Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I wait until she rises before pushing myself into her midsection, wrapping my arms around her waist and tackling her to the ground. We roll a couple times, Harlow clawing at me to let her go, but I hold on and don't even notice the gathered wolves leaping out of our way.

"You really think you have what it takes?" she hisses and pushes me down, straddling my legs and pinning me between her thighs. "A scrawny pup without even any Beta blood?" Whispering down low by my ear, I feel her breath skate across my face, and I shiver at her tone that has turned sour. "I won't ever allow you to win."

I hear gasps drawn from the crowd. They now know I'm not even the daughter of a Beta.

"That's where you're wrong," I throw my body to the side and crawl out from under her. She growls and extends her claws, and I do the same. "It's no longer up to you who wins or loses today. I can finally fight for myself. No matter where I came from, or who my parents truly are, I have the will and strength to win this."

And I lunge at her, aiming for her stomach and retracting my claws at the last second. This is, after all, just a play fight. Neither of us is looking to actually draw blood.

At least, that's what I'm praying for.

"Is that so?" Her tone mocks me, laughs at me. "Then show me your best, Ari." And she leaps into a cartwheel, reaching out and slamming into me before she returns to her feet. My head thumps against the ground, exposing my neck, and I stifle a cry from the compounded pain. She is ripping into me. Her claws cutting through my skin and drawing blood.

In that moment, with my neck stinging from the re-opened wounds, I realise this is no longer a safe fight. All rules have been dissolved. The Beta female really is out for my blood, and I already feel it sliding down my chest in warm drops. I slowly push myself up to my knees and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, trying to clear my blurred vision.

"Ari, you can do this," Devanshi's voice reaches me amidst the boos and jeers flung at me. "Come on, Ariella. Get up!"

"You really think I'm going to let a Disney princess knock off my crown? You should know better by now, Ariella," Harlow circles back and attacks again while I'm still disoriented. With a casual twist of her fingers, she flicks my hair into my face, and the colourful tips fill my vision. I know she is making fun of me, and it irks me.

But I'm not oblivious to her intentions now. I'm ready for her, and throw myself sideways to avoid her kick. I roll onto my shoulder and come up behind her, landing a solid hit on her back.

"Ohh, so that's how it's gonna be?" I cock my head and calculate the angle and velocity of my next move. I can see her doing the same, so I counteract it and aim for the other side, knowing where she'll take it.

"Well, where I come from, the princess slayed the dragon."

She laughs even as I land a kick to her stomach. With her focus on her bruised gut, I aim a punch to her face and don't feel any remorse when I hear the crunch of bones breaking. She will heal, but my fate and future are at stake here.

Harlow is barely fazed, and with blood now running from her nose, she spins toward me quickly and punches me in the chest. I'm winded, but try not to show I'm gasping for breath as she wraps an arm around my neck and flips me over. The move might have snapped the neck of a weaker wolf, but Hamilton has showed me how to counter this, and I swing my body up to prevent my neck from bending awkwardly. Arching my back, I twist out of her grasp and roll away, but she's on me in an instant.

Fingers dig into my skin, her knee pincering my pelvis into the ground.

Did you really expect to become the leader of this pack? You, without any high ranking blood in your veins? You? A weak runt.

Her words slide into my mind as she stares at me with a placid smirk. Such emotion is running wild behind her cool hazel eyes, and I wonder if the others can see it, or hear her thoughts towards me.

You can pretend all you want, doll, but porcelain china is still going to break no matter how many fires it's gone through. Once a fragile heart, always a fragile heart.

I lash out with a free fist, slamming into the side of her face and enraging her further. "It's the broken hearts that beat the strongest once remade." Using all my strength, I loosen her grip on me and roll us both over. "It's the runts that come back with a vengeance once they learn how to fight." Now my hands are on her neck, my nails extended into sharpened claws. My teeth bared in a display of dominance. "It's the pups that grow up to be the strongest Alphas and Luna's."

"Ariella..."

I hear Hamilton but ignore his warning. Is he worried for me or his sister? Didn't he realise this was how it was going to end?

How it had to end?

No one will take from me what is mine.

Harlow struggles and I hear the threat in her mind's voice. But I also hear pain.

She is hurting. From loss, heartache. Tragedy.

But no matter her past, Malachi is not her future and he never was.

He is mine. I growl deeply, but Harlow too gathers her will and pushes me back, sending me sprawling into the dirt on my back.

She leaps up and I watch as each muscle in the Beta female's body contracts, coiling and tensing in readiness.

"Harlow, don't!"

Her brother's shout falls on deaf ears and Harlow launches herself at me with a throaty cry, her body morphing into her wolf.

I have only enough time to position my legs and arms in place, so when Harlow crashes into me, I flip her over my head and somersault at the same time, coming to rest on top of her. My own wolf surfaces and my primal instincts take control.

I go straight for the jugular.

"Ariella! Stop!"

Hands are on me, tugging me back, but they are useless, redundant against the surge of fury I feel coursing through my veins. The Alpha's mark on my neck tingles, right beside the cuts and wounds that are spilling blood. I am strong enough. My teeth taste Harlow's blood as I snap at her neck; my ears sing in appreciation of the whining noises she makes.

I have lost control of the decency within me, of the leash I keep on the pain and bitterness I carry deep inside. It has forever been with me, reminding me of the injustice of life, of all I have lost. The love. The family I once had. The home I belonged to. And I am refusing to lose anything else, especially to a shewolf so arrogant and proud. So spiteful towards me.

"That's enough! Girls, stop it!"

I don't comprehend the order. Everything else has faded in this moment of finally subduing the one who has tormented me ever since I arrived here. This moment is mine.

This moment of victory.

Until I am wrenched off her and slammed into the ground, a heavy weight preventing me from twisting and rising again.

Black fur fills my vision. A softness caresses my body and a deep rumble fills my ears.

I involuntarily submit to the power radiating around me, and I press my face into the dirt as hot breath fans my skin. I shift back into my human form, my hands finding themselves pressed against a solid chest just above my own.

"What do you think you are doing?"

The anger and bewilderment in his deep voice aren't masked, and disappointment fills every crevice of my scratched and bleeding skin.

Malachi rises to his feet, taking me with him, until we are standing and I look over at Harlow who is supported between her brother and Gamma Hendrik. Her face, neck, stomach, bare arms... every piece of naked skin is lashed with red lines, blood running in small rivulets over her clothes.

"Congratulations, Ariella. Looks like you won," Hamilton says, and I don't know if he is angry or proud. Or shocked that our challenge ended so brutally.

"What did you expect?" I round on him, unable to keep the accusation from my tone. "That I would give up my mate to her?"

He furrows his brows, his jaw tensing as he thinks quickly. "What do you mean..."

And I realise, they didn't hear what Harlow told me. They don't understand what the fight was really about.

"It doesn't matter," I step forwards. "We all saw what happened here." Meeting their eyes, I maintain contact in what I hope is a dominating stare. All the warriors and guards here saw me win the challenge. They all know my strength.

"Ariella, wait."

My arm is still held by Malachi, and his firm tug brings me to a stop. Turning me back to him, he studies me. "You're hurt. Seriously."

"I'm okay. I'll be fine." I try pulling away again, brushing off the fact that my entire body is aching and stinging, so much so that it takes all my remaining strength not to cry.

"No. Let me help you," he insists and pulls me closer into his arms.

I can't deny the pleasurable sparks that engulf my body, his warmth stilling my nervous shakes. His close proximity sings to my body in ways I'd rather not think about right now.

But this reaction is normal. This mate bond between our souls, our bodies, only confirms my position as Luna of this pack.

His lips find their way onto my skin, and I tense at the sting of his saliva meeting the open cuts. But it lasts only a moment, as the sensation changes. A numbing, soothing feeling spreads over the deep wounds on my neck as he licks away the blood.

And I relax. With the release of a shuddering breath, I open my eyes and realise everyone is still watching us. Cringing, I try to push away again, but Malachi's grip on my arms is vice-like.

"Malachi..." I breathe, "You don't have to do this. I'll be okay."

"Let me help you heal, Ariella," he murmurs against my neck. "It's something only a mate can do."

The deep rumble of his words sends a thrill through me, but a niggling hesitation has me squirming under his touch. "This is...embarrassing. They'll think I'm still weak. That I can't take the pain. That I can't—"

"You're mine, Ariella," his mouth closes over mine after speaking the proclamation. "They need to see you're mine, and only mine."

I feel my body melt into his embrace, his slow and lingering kiss stealing whatever protest I have. When he kisses along my jaw and nudges his nose in my hair, I open my eyes again and see Harlow staring at us with a dark frown in her eyes.

I've always been Malachi's, ever since I stepped foot in this territory with the Alpha's mark on my neck.

But do they know he is mine?

"I'm sorry. I can't do this." I pull away, tugging myself free, and give Malachi one last glance before turning away. I level my gaze on Harlow and keep my shoulders back, spine straight, as I walk past her.

Devanshi brushes a supportive hand across my shoulder, but I barely register her touch. Pushing past the others, I feel their eyes on me, fueling my determination.

On Friday, when the Alpha comes of age, I will mark him.

I will make him mine.

_____🖤🖤_____

Without running into anyone else wanting to challenge me or my strength, I find myself at the Alpha's mansion, pushing through the back door and hoping to slip upstairs. I am dirty, tired, wounded, and depleted of all the fight I had in me.

I'm still trying to piece together the startling events and information we've received over the last couple days, so the challenge from Harlow was the last thing I needed.

But I proved to everyone, and myself, that I have what it takes to be their Luna.

Now I just have to convince my mate.

"Ariella?"

I stop mid-step at the sound of my name, the voice weak and high pitched. Threaded with fear.

Sighing, I step into the living room and find Sammy and Luna Seneca staring at each other across the solid oak coffee table. My eyes flit back and forth between them, taking in the nervous frown on Sammy's face, the darkness in Seneca's.

And my violin in her hands.

"What's going on?" I ask, my heart rate rising.

"This young pup thought it a good idea to play your violin, and disturb my perfectly peaceful morning."

"I said I'm sorry, Luna," Sammy's voice trembles and I see he is on the verge of tears. Anyone being stared at the way Seneca is looking at him right now, would have every reason to cry. "I didn't know—"

"Stop with your excuses," Seneca abruptly interrupts him, plunging the room into silence and a tension that tightens my own nerves. "Everyone knows how much I hate violins," she turns her eyes of obsidian to me and I automatically feel the urge to wither under it. But I remember my victory out in the training field, and keep my head up.

"He's only young, he doesn't understand—"

"He touched your violin, Ariella. Don't you at least disapprove of him playing with such a fine instrument that doesn't belong to him?" Her eyebrows arch delicately at me.

"Yes, but, it's fine. Sammy—"

"I'm sorry, Ariella. I guess I should have asked first. But I just wanted to make Luna happy," he flicks his gaze nervously to Seneca, then back to me. "Remember that story you told me last night? About the little boy who played the magic violin, and it made everyone who heard the music happy? I just wanted to make Luna smile again, and not be so sad."

I feel my heart constrict with the goodwill behind Sammy's actions. No one can fault his intentions or be mad at him for long with the goodness of his small heart shining through.

"You know what would make me not so sad? Maybe actually smile?" Seneca asks. Whether to Sammy or me, I can't tell.

But the glint in her eyes sends a surge of warning through me.

"The destruction of this accursed instrument."

Before I can react, or even understand what she means, the violin is twisted between her delicate fingers, the polished wood warping and snapping under a strength I've never seen before. With a simple yet powerful flick of her wrists, my grandmother's instrument is torn in two.

The pieces—splintered wood, coiling strings, melted pegs—fall to the floor with soft thuds on the ancient Persian carpet. Each thud echoes the cracking of my heart, fresh shards stabbing me in places I thought had long since broken already.

"No!—" I launch myself, but I'm already too late. Sammy lets out a strangled sob and rushes to my side. My fingers close around the splintered wood, the pieces mirroring the fragments in my chest.

"Now, now, children. No need to cry over such meaningless things."

I feel Seneca's hand rest on my head, perhaps in a way that is supposed to comfort me. It sickens me.

"We all must grow up one day, and put aside our childish fantasies. Isn't that right, dreamer?" She leans over and whispers in my ear, her fingers gliding through the colourful strands of my hair.