Page 1 of Howling Love (Hunter’s Moon Ritual #1)

GRACIE

Ten years ago…

Bright lights swept across the icy ground of the pack compound as we stood frozen in place, metal handcuffs digging into my wrists.

The iron was so cold it felt like fire, and every tiny movement sent a sharp sting through my arms. Blood dripped from my nose, little red drops falling onto the snow.

It was the only thing I could focus on—anything to stop myself from looking at what was happening in front of me.

Had it really been only hours ago that I’d been sledding down the hill behind our farm with my brother? The sun had been bright, and even though the air was freezing, I’d felt warm. Happy. Safe.

But all of that had been torn away in seconds.

I’d woken up to the sound of our front door being kicked in.

Smoke filled the air, so thick I couldn’t see or breathe.

Everything happened too fast. I wished they’d left me there, in my bed.

I wished they’d let me disappear with the rest of it.

Because the person who dragged me out of that house wasn’t an angel.

He was my new jailer.

Or one of them.

I’d heard the rumors—families taken in the middle of the night, homes burned, people disappearing. It was happening all over Thornfell. But my mom and dad always told me not to worry. They said we were safe.

I looked down to my left, where my dad’s body lay in red snow. My mom knelt beside him, her cuffed hands resting on his chest, whimpering as she stared at his pale, still face. He had only asked for something to help me. That was all. He just wanted to help with the pain.

The burning on my side—the way I’d screamed when my new jailer shoved me into the wall of fire—it didn’t matter anymore. I couldn’t even feel it. All I felt was cold. Not the kind that comes from the snow or the wind, but the kind that numbs everything inside you.

The kind that didn’t go away.

Even my wolf was silent. Too scared to make a sound. And me? I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even reach out to comfort my mom.

On either side of us stood faces I recognized—neighbors from the village near our farm, people I’d seen at the market. But there were no kind smiles now. Just fear. Tear-streaked cheeks. Hollow stares. That alone told me what I didn’t want to believe: we were never going home.

An armed guard stepped forward and shot a man from the village. Point-blank. The crack of the gun echoed off the metal walls of the compound, followed by the crunch of his body hitting the snow.

He didn’t move again.

A voice cracked through the speakers overhead, the echo of it ringing painfully in my ears. “If you’re willing to serve under Alpha Ivan, kneel.”

My knees hit the ground before I even thought about it. Some part of me still wanted to live. Maybe not wanted , but needed. I couldn’t die. Not yet. My mom was still alive. Owen was missing, and someone needed to find him now that Dad?—

My brain refused to finish that thought. It just…stopped.

Shots rang out down the line. More bodies fell. The ones who hadn’t kneeled.

“Yvelis is the only one who applauds your actions,” the voice mocked. The god of death .

“From now on, your names do not matter. You will be assigned numbers as you integrate into the Cold Moon Pack. Any sign of loyalty to your former pack or community will result in your death. You will work until you’ve proven your loyalty.

“Your previous pack is gone. Your previous alpha dead.”

Until now, I’d always thought Thornfell was beautiful. Harsh in the winter, but good. Safe. But tonight, with the moon missing from the sky, I could finally see the cracks. I could see the scars our jailers had carved into the land with their violence.

Even the ground felt different—like it didn’t want them here. Like the snow itself had gone silent in grief.

As I stared at the cold metal wall, the voice over the speakers droned on, telling us about our future, about punishments, about what we’d have to become. But my mind was somewhere else.

I saw blue skies. Warm sun on golden wheat at harvest. My dad’s cheerful singing in the kitchen. My mom crouching low, showing my brother how to hold a bow without shaking. For the first time since my father’s body hit the ground, I felt the heat of tears sliding down my cheeks.

That world was gone. And in its place, only frigid darkness.