Kade’s gaze flicks between us. I have no idea what he is thinking, and honestly? I don’t care.
Next is the training yard. Warriors line up, waiting. The envoy’s voice carries over to me, “If a Luna must protect her young, can she hold a weapon?”
Izel smirks, certain I’ll falter.
I step forward, taking a wooden staff from the rack. Tamsin, watching from the side, folds her arms, giving me the faintest nod of approval.
The envoy gestures. “Strike.”
I plant my feet and swing hard. The thud echoes as the staff slams into the practice post. My arms shake with the impact, but I steady them.
The envoy hums, unimpressed. “Not without skill.” Then, with a flick of his wrist, he summons one of the waiting warriors, staff in hand.
Izel’s lips curve thin with scorn. “Parlor tricks. She cannot—”
“She can,” Kade cuts her off. The shock throws me off balance for a fraction of a second—long enough that the warrior strikes,his staff cracking against my arm and knocking me hard to the ground.
Pain flares. I grunt, fury curling in my chest—not just at the blow, but at myself for faltering. The envoy’s face remains unreadable as he watches me drag myself back to my feet.
The warrior tilts his head, uncertain. “Yield?”
My lips pull into a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.
I lunge. The move is faster than he expects. My staff slams against his, driving him back a step, then another. He adjusts, but I press harder, fury hardening every strike. Nyx’s power flows through me, warming my shoulders, my elbows, my hands. He’s stronger, but I can see it in his eyes: he’s holding back.
He thinks I’m fragile.
Snarling, I swing again, pushing until the clash of wood rattles the yard. My arms throb, my breath comes ragged, but I won’t yield.
“Enough.” The envoy’s voice cuts through the air. He raises one long hand. “The test is concluded.”
The warrior lowers his staff at once. I stand heaving, sweat stinging my eyes, the taste of iron in my mouth. I know I proved myself—but rage still coils inside me. Because I could have done more. Because he nevertrulyfought me.
???
At sunset, the envoy demands we sit in the Small Council chamber. A mock court, he calls it. It is not just Jax, Kade and Izel now. There are other members of the council of Silvercrest that watch over this test.
He clears his throat. “It’s mentioned in the anonymous complaint that the Luna has neglected her duties: absent fromrituals, derelict in keeping order among the pack’s women. Some even whisper of… fraternizing with rogues.”
Gasps ripple across the chamber. Even Kade, who has sat silent and rigid until now, leans forward on his elbows, his eyes narrowing.
I fold my hands on the table, heart racing. This is therealtest. Rowan’s face flashes in my mind.He might be the Rogue King of Nightfell, but he’s my friend. I meet him and seek his help but I know the purpose. It isnotbecause I’m betraying my pack.
“May I respond?” I ask.
The envoy inclines his head.
“By law,” I begin, voice level, “a Luna is bound to attend rituals unless incapacitated by illness or Alpha command. Six winters ago, I bore my son, Finn, and nearly bled to death. Afterward, Alpha Kade himself commanded I rest. Witnesses may confirm this.”
What I can’t tell you is that without my wolf I couldn’t possibly participate in any of the rituals.
Izel hisses.
“As for order among the women,” I press on, “name one complaint ever brought formally. None exists. As for fraternizing? I have never consorted with rogues. Not as Luna of Silvercrest…” I allow the words to settle before continuing, “Besides, our history shows packs have dealt with rogues whenever it benefitted them. Border treaties, hunting accords, even mercenary contracts. The High Council itself has never set down a law forbidding such dealings outright.”
The envoy’s brows draw together.
I tilt my chin higher. “If rogues cross unlawfully, it is the guard’s failing. Not the Luna’s.”
