The first time I heard my husband's thoughts, I was dying.
It wasn't a poetic realization. There were no flashing lights or choir of angels. There was only the sharp, metallic tang of blood coating the back of my throat and the rhythmic thump-thump-thump of my failing heart. I stood in the shadows of the Grand Ballroom of the Lunar Sanctum, my fingers trembling as I pressed a lace handkerchief to my lips.
When I pulled it away, the white fabric was stained a vivid, mocking crimson.
Wasting Sickness. That's what the pack healers called it. But I knew the truth. I wasn't sick; I was harvested. For six years, I had been the "Human Luna" of the Black Ridge Pack, a title that sounded like a fairy tale but felt like a life sentence. Every Tuesday, four liters of my "divine" human blood were drained to fuel Kaelen's warriors, to heal their jagged wounds, and to keep his Alpha throne secure.
I had given him my youth. I had given him my health. I had given him my soul.
And then, the "Link" snapped open in my brain like a rusted trap.
'She looks like a ghost tonight. It's becoming an embarrassment.'
I froze. The voice was deep, resonant, and icy, unmistakably Kaelen's. But his mouth wasn't moving. He was standing fifty feet away, surrounded by the elite Alphas of the Northern territories. He looked magnificent in his charcoal suit, his shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the world, his jawline sharp enough to cut diamond.
'How much longer, Kaelen?' a second voice purred. This one was feminine, syrupy, and laced with a cruelty that made my skin crawl. 'The scent of decay follows her. The pack is whispering. They say a dying human is a curse on the Moon's grace.'
I turned my head slightly. Standing at Kaelen's side was Lyra, the Beta's daughter. She was everything I wasn't vibrant, golden-skinned, and possessed of a wolf spirit that howled with vitality. Her hand was draped over Kaelen's forearm, her claws digging slightly into the fabric of his sleeve.
Kaelen didn't pull away.
'The healers say her heart is at ten percent,' Kaelen's thought echoed in my skull, cold and detached, as if he were discussing a failing piece of machinery rather than his wife. 'Two more draws. That's all her blood is worth now. Once the vault is empty, the Moon Goddess will reclaim her, and the position of Luna will be vacant. Be patient, Lyra. I've already drafted the annulment papers for "medical incapacity." We just need her to stop breathing first.'
The world tilted. The glittering chandeliers above seemed to sharpen into spears, aimed directly at my chest. I gasped, a wet, ragged sound that was swallowed by the thrumming cello music of the gala.
He wasn't waiting for me to get better. He was waiting for me to vacate the space I occupied so he could fill it with a "real" wolf.
The Mind-Link, a gift reserved only for those with wolf spirits, had manifested in me as my organs shut down, a final, cruel joke from the Moon Goddess. I was hearing the truth at the exact moment it no longer mattered.
"Luna Sura? Are you alright?"
I jerked my head toward the voice. It was Elder Vance, the pack's lead physician. He was the one who inserted the needles. He was the one who watched the bags fill with my life force while I grew paler and thinner.
"I'm fine, Vance," I whispered, my voice sounding like crushed glass.
'Liar,' Vance thought. I could hear him, too. 'Her hemoglobin is bottoming out. She'll be lucky if she makes it to the New Moon. What a waste of a rare bloodline.'
I looked at Vance, really looked at him, and for the first time, I didn't see a healer. I saw a butcher. I looked at the ballroom full of werewolves, men and women who had thrived on my sacrifice, who had healed from mortal wounds because I let them bleed me dry, and I felt a spark of something I hadn't felt in years.
Rage.
It started in the pit of my stomach, a tiny ember of heat in a body that was perpetually cold.
I didn't wipe the blood from my chin this time. I let it stay there, a red badge of my service. I walked forward, my legs heavy as lead, pushing through the crowd of shifters who parted for me not out of respect, but out of a disgust they thought I couldn't sense.
'Look at her. Pathetic.'
'The Alpha deserves a Queen, not a corpse.'
'I heard she can't even hold a glass anymore.'
The thoughts pelted me like hailstones. I ignored them all, fixing my eyes on the man at the center of the room. My fated mate. My husband. My murderer.
Kaelen turned as I approached. His eyes, a piercing, predatory silver, flickered with a brief flash of irritation. "Sura. You should be in bed. You're making a scene."
"The scene is just beginning, Kaelen," I said. My voice wasn't loud, but the sheer venom in it caused the surrounding Alphas to fall silent.
Lyra smirked, her hand sliding further up Kaelen's arm. "Sura, dear, you look exhausted. Perhaps the human quarters would be more comfortable for you? The air here is a bit... thick for someone with your condition."
'Die already, you useless bitch,' Lyra's mind screamed.
I looked Lyra dead in the eyes. "The only thing 'thick' in this room, Lyra, is the smell of your desperation. You've been scenting my husband for months. Do you really think I'm too 'human' to smell the cheap musk of a home-wrecker?"
The room gasped. Kaelen's grip on his glass tightened until the crystal cracked. "Sura! Enough. You are unwell. I'll have the guards take you to the infirmary."
"No more infirmaries," I said, stepping into his personal space. I was shorter than him, weakened and dying, but in that moment, I felt like a giant. "And no more needles. I'm done being the pack's pharmacy."
Kaelen leaned down, his voice a low, dangerous growl meant to intimidate. "You are the Luna. Your duty is to the strength of this pack. Without your blood, the warriors at the border....."
"Will have to learn how to bleed for themselves," I snapped. I reached into the hidden pocket of my silk gown and pulled out a heavy gold band. It was my wedding ring, encrusted with moonstones. I dropped it into his champagne glass.
It sank to the bottom with a muffled clink.
"I want a divorce, Kaelen."
The silence that followed was absolute. Even the music stopped. Kaelen stared at the glass, then at me. A dark, mocking laugh bubbled up from his chest.
"Divorce? You're a human rogue I plucked from the gutters of the borderlands. You have no family, no money, and nowhere to go. Without me, you'd be dead in a week."
'She's bluffing,' his mind echoed. 'She loves me too much. She's addicted to the crumbs of affection I throw her.'
"I'd rather die in a gutter than spend another minute in this silver prison," I said. I leaned in closer, my lips hovering near his ear so only he could hear my next words. "I heard you, Kaelen. I heard what you told her. I know about the annulment papers. I know you're waiting for me to stop breathing."
Kaelen stiffened. His scent shifted from cool cedar to something sharp and panicked. "What are you talking about?"
"Ephphatha," I whispered. It was an ancient word from my father's stories, a word that meant be opened. At that moment, I felt a strange, humming vibration in my marrow. It wasn't the sickness. It was something... else. Something divine.
I pulled back, a ghost of a smile on my bloody lips. "You think you're the predator here, Kaelen? You think I'm just a 'useful tool'? You've been drinking the blood of a Goddess for six years and calling it 'human.' You don't even realize what you've unleashed."
"Guards!" Kaelen roared, his face contorting with rage. "Take her to the high tower. Lock her in. No one goes in or out until she regains her senses!"
Two massive enforcers grabbed my arms. Normally, I would have struggled. I would have cried. I would have begged Kaelen to look at me with the love he promised on our wedding day.
But tonight, I just watched him. I watched the way he looked at Lyra for reassurance. I watched the way the pack looked at me with pity.
As they dragged me toward the heavy oak doors, I didn't fight. I leaned my head back and laughed. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated liberation.
'She's gone mad,' the pack thought in unison.
No, I thought back, projecting my voice into the Link for the first time. The mental shockwave was so powerful that half the room winced, clutching their heads as if they'd been struck.
I'm just finally awake.
I let them throw me into the tower. I let them lock the iron bolt. I sat on the cold stone floor and felt my heart skip another beat, then two. My time was running out, but for the first time in my life, I had a plan.
I wasn't going to die for the Black Ridge Pack.
I was going to stage a masterpiece. I was going to give Kaelen exactly what he wanted: a corpse. And then, I was going to find my way back to the human world, cure myself with the secrets of my own blood, and burn his "Chronicles" to the ground.
The taste of copper was still there, but as I closed my eyes, it started to taste like victory.