My father emerged cloaked in black. A massive wolf pelt hung from his shoulders, and a battle-scarred whip coiled at his hip like a living thing. His face was all hard lines, carved from years of rule, but his storm-gray eyes wavered when they landed on me.
“So,” he growled, “the prodigal daughter returns in rags.”
He growled low once. Ayla flinched. I didn't move.
“I won’t beg,” I said, my voice steady. “I won’t plead for scraps. But if you still call me daughter—let us in. Let her live.”
He stared at me for a long time. Then his gaze dropped to Ayla. “She’s yours?”
“And Damien’s.”
Something primal flashed in his eyes. He turned away, jaw clenched. “Break the bond. Sever every tie to that traitor, and you’ll have a place here again. As Selene Stormfang. Your daughter will carry our crest. But if even one thread remains between you and Nightfang...”
“I’ll burn the thread myself,” I said.
Alpha Gideon studied me, then gave a single nod. “Then shed that filth. Bathe. Dress in something worthy of your name. You will not stand before the elders looking like a rogue.”
I lifted my chin. “No.”
His brow arched. “You refuse?”
“I won’t return pretending to be the broken girl who left. I won’t hide behind silk and lineage.”
I took Ayla’s hand. “I’m not here as the discarded daughter of Stormfang. I’ve come back as retribution.”
A flicker of pride crossed his expression. “Then make them remember who you are.”
That same day, still wrapped in blood-stained rags and carrying my half-frozen daughter, I crossed into the capital of Nightfang Pack.
The manor loomed ahead—twisting black stone and bone-thread banners flapping against the sky. Two guards snarled when I approached.
“State your business,” one barked.
“I have a message for Alpha Damien.”
The other scoffed. “Do you think we let strays wander into the Alpha’s Keep?”
I met his gaze. “Tell him his mate has returned.”
His lip curled. “Alpha Damien has no rogue mate. He has Luna Elara—the mother of the future Alpha. If you speak again, I’ll have your tongue.”
I knew this would happen.
I dropped to my knees, pulled Ayla close, and let my voice carry across the stone courtyard.
“Hear me, Nightfang wolves! I am Selene Stormfang—Damien’s bonded mate. Under the Blood Moon, I bore him a daughter. He swore me Luna before the sacred grove, before the Elders, before the Moon herself. And then he left us to rot in the snow!”