When Tamsin finally calls halt, my body is trembling, but Nyx is no longer silent. She hums under my skin, stretching.
Tamsin tosses me a skin of water. “You’ll remember faster than you think. Wolves never forget. They only sleep.”
I drink deep, tasting iron and earth, and wonder how much of myself I’m ready to wake.
Tamsin folds her arms. “Tomorrow, we revise laws, Freya.”
I blink at her, not liking the way she finally said my name. “Laws?”
Her smirk widens. “What use is a Luna who can fight, if she forgets how to rule?”
???
That night after a warm bath, I walk the hallways of the keep, muscles aching with everything Tamsin put me through. Torchlight flickers over stone walls, stretching my shadow longlike something sinister. I want only my bed now, but a voice grabs my attention.
It’s Kade’s voice, coming from outside Izel’s chamber. I don’t turn the corner; instead, I back further away and focus hard, trusting Nyx to pick up his voice from the distance.
“Have some patience, sweetheart! After the Conclave,” he’s saying, “I’ll make it official. We’ll have a mating ceremony.”
I barely hold back a gasp. My heart feels like it’s been stabbed.
Izel’s laugh follows. It’s gentle and shrill, and it grates on my nerves. “And Freya?”
After a pause, Kade answers, “The Conclave will decide her fate. Either way… she won’t trouble us again.”
His cruel words slice me open. My hands tremble against the stone wall.
Nyx growls in my chest, irritated. ‘He is not yours. He never was.’
I back away from the doorway and sprint towards my chamber.
Twenty-eight days.
That’s all I have left.
The thought doesn’t paralyze me. It ignites fury—one I know is capable of burning everything down.
MOON AMBER
Freya
The corridors feel colder when I walk them with purpose. I should not be here. Kade’s orders this morning were clear—stay out of the nursery. Stay away from my own children.
But after what I heard last night, I’m not going to let anything stop me. Kade wants to claim Izel as his mate, right? That’s fine. He can do that. He has cast me away as the lady of the house. He can cast me away as his wife, too, but I’ll be damned before I let him separate me from my children.
I push open the carved door. The smell of milk and lavender clings to the air. A small fire glows in the hearth. Finn sits cross-legged on his bed, a wooden wolf in his hands. He looks up at the sound of the door.
“Finn,” I whisper, stepping closer. My hands tremble against my skirts.
His golden eyes widen. For one perfect heartbeat, recognition flashes across his face. He scrambles to his feet, the toy falling from his grasp.
“Mama?” His voice is small, uncertain.
Tears sting my eyes. “Yes, my love. It’s me.”
He takes one step toward me—then freezes. His gaze clouds over, like a veil slipping between us. His little body stiffens. The confusion on his face changes into fear.
“No…” He shakes his head hard. “You’re not—”
