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I scratched at the itchy fabric of my ceremonial tunic. The look in Grae’s eyes played over and over in my mind.

Why not?

I had been such a foolish pup, regaling him with stories of how I would defeat Sawyn, of how I would reclaim Olmdere for my sister Queen... and now I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see my homeland again.

Frowning at the silver carpet beneath my feet, I felt his eyes upon me. The rest of the congregation ignored me, but his eyes were like a leaden weight. Maybe Grae desired Olmdere for himself, like his father. The gold mines lay just over its border. King Nero made it clear he was going to use this marriage to ferry gold into his kingdom with impunity, not even getting close to Sawyn in the capital. Gods, I’d longed for this day my whole life, and now I felt bribed into silence. The threat of being married off to a stranger and being separated from Briar forever loomed over me.

I scowled at the delicate wedding decorations—a constellation of paper stars and crystal baubles. What a sham. They had transformed the grand hall into a white wonderland over the course of the afternoon. Long wooden pews now lined the space, the voices of well-wishers reverberating off the vaulted ceilings. The string quartet from earlier now sat in the corner, bows resting in their laps as they waited for the ceremony to begin. A trail of white flower petals ran the length of the aisle, up to the dais where King Nero sat. I had the urge to take the knife in my boot, slice it across his smug face, and stain the petals red.

A full moon priest stood at the bottom step of the dais. He held a heavy tome in his hands, waiting for the far doors to open.His flowing stone-gray robes were embroidered with silver images of the moon’s phases, and he had long obsidian hair with a matching scraggly beard, looking more like a woodsman than a priest. I could already picture exactly what he would look like in his Wolf form—matted fur and beady eyes.

A circular window high above the throne perfectly captured the first silvery streak of moonlight. The crowd all lifted their chins in unison. Soon they’d all be in their furs, howling at the moon.

“The Moon Goddess smiles upon us this night,” the priest said, holding one hand up as his fingers cast shadows through the glowing light. “When the veil between land and sky is thinnest and the Goddess can hear our prayers. We ask her to bless Damrienn and all her allies.”

All her allies.I glared sideways at the king, who looked out over his pack. King Nero didn’t care about his allies, he cared about power, and with each heartbeat, it felt more and more like we were sacrificing Olmdere to his greed. This had nothing to do with the good ofmypack, that was for damn sure. I stole a glance toward Grae, staring straight past him to Maez. His cousin wore a silver jacket and sash that matched my own, but I could make out the crown prince’s sharp expression from my periphery. This all would’ve been easier if he hadn’t been... Grae. My Grae. My friend. He’d made me think it’d all be okay somehow. At least King Nero had shown his true colors the moment we met.

The priest dropped his hand.

“Moon Goddess, bless us this night.” The crowd murmured the hushed prayer in unison.

I whispered the same, one step behind the rest. Despite my anger and worry, I couldn’t help but be awed by being a part of all this. We’d lit candles and said our prayers every full moon... but I had never experienced a true moon ceremony before.

The priest wandered over to a chunky candle on a pedestal beside him. “In the light of the moon . . .”

“Our truth is revealed,” the crowd replied.

I felt the pull to shift deep in my belly. That wild part of me stirred as the full moon rose higher. The feeling churned deeper in my chest at the call and response of the pack. This is what it felt like to have people, to be one of many. Yet what should have been joy right now felt nothing like the belonging I’d always dreamed of. It felt like fear, like desperation, like if I didn’t blend in, I’d be cut down.

That fear made my muscles coil, and I pushed away the yearning to shift, stretching my neck to the side.

“We pledge ourselves to our joined fate, stronger together than apart,” the priest said, sweeping a hand through the candle flame.

“We pledge ourselves to the good of the pack,” the crowd murmured.

“For we may die.”

“But the pack lives on.”

At the final whispered prayer, the string quartet started a slow, sweet tune. The crowd stood, twisting to see the far doors open. Soft “oohs” escaped their lips as Briar walked down the aisle.

In only a handful of hours, they had perfectly tailored the dress to fit her lean body. A diamond tiara sat atop her braided red hair and a long veil flowed in a river of lace behind her. She maintained a gentle smile as she walked with deliberate slowness. Pride filled me as I watched the control in her movements. It was a dance to her, just as sparring was a dance to me—a role she performed beautifully. I was certain she captured every Wolf’s heart as she glided past.

Good. It would be easier to pivot out of King Nero’s jaws if the pack adored her.

And how could they not? It seemed as if the very moonlight stretched up the aisle to greet her. Resonant melodies flowed around us, and my chest tightened. As she stepped into the glowing moonlight, she cried out, eyes flying wide.

The bouquet of white flowers slipped from her hands, and the crowd gasped as it hit the floor. Briar doubled over and clenched a fist to her gut. On instinct, I unsheathed my dagger, searching for any threat in the stunned crowd. The pack sucked in a collective breath as my mind tumbled into panic. Was she poisoned? Was it an arrow so fast I couldn’t see?

I took a step toward Briar but her eyes flashed gold, the reflective light of her Wolf eyes making me halt.

She wasn’t injured.

Magic shot out from her, a silver beam that flew across the room, landing on the chest of another.

Maez’s eyes flickered a matching metallic gold. Her hand hit her gut and she panted as if the moonlight had knocked the air from her lungs. When her eyes locked on Briar’s, I knew for certain what it meant.

The word began echoing around the room:Mates.