The grand hall of the Blackwood Pack house glowed with firelight and anticipation. Long tables groaned under platters of roasted venison, fresh bread, and honeyed fruits. Torches lined the stone walls, casting flickering shadows that danced across hundreds of faces. Musicians played a lively reel in the corner, and the air thrummed with conversation, laughter, and the rich overlay of countless wolf scents.
It was Kai Blackstone's official welcome feast—the night the pack would formally acknowledge their future Alpha.
Jennie moved between the tables with a tray of wine goblets, head bowed, silver-white hair once again severely braided and tucked beneath a servant's cap. The bruise on her cheek had darkened, but careful makeup and the hall's dim lighting hid most of it. She kept her movements small and efficient, refilling glasses, clearing plates, staying invisible.
But tonight, invisibility felt different.
The shadows clung to her like a secret cloak. Every time she passed beneath a torch, they deepened around her feet, softening her footsteps until they made no sound at all. No one noticed. No one ever did.
Yet she noticed everything.
Kai sat at the head table, flanked by his father Alpha Ronan on one side and—predictably—Lydia on the other. He wore formal black, the fabric stretching across his broad shoulders, a silver alpha pendant gleaming at his throat. His jet-black hair was tamed for once, but those piercing green eyes remained restless, scanning the hall as though searching for something he couldn't name.
Lydia leaned close to him, golden hair swept up in an elaborate style, her replacement necklace—a heavy silver chain with sapphires—glinting at her throat. She laughed at something Ronan said, touching Kai's arm lightly, possessively.
Jennie felt the bond twist inside her chest like a living thing—sharp, hot, angry. She forced her gaze down and moved on.
At the elders' table, Mira caught her eye briefly and gave a subtle nod toward the side door. A silent invitation.
Jennie slipped out into the cool night air a few minutes later, tray abandoned on a side table. The courtyard was quiet compared to the hall, moonlight spilling across the cobblestones like liquid silver.
Mira waited in the shadows of a stone archway, clutching a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
"You came," the old healer said softly.
"I needed air," Jennie replied. It wasn't entirely a lie.
Mira studied her face in the moonlight. "The bruise is worse."
Jennie shrugged. "It'll heal."
The elder pressed the bundle into Jennie's hands. "Happy birthday, child. Belated, but no less meant."
Jennie unwrapped it carefully. Inside lay a delicate silver pendant on a thin chain—an intricate moon phase design, with a tiny white wolf etched into the center.
"It's beautiful," Jennie whispered.
"It belonged to my grandmother," Mira said. "She told me once it was passed down from a Veiled line. I thought… it might suit you."
Jennie's throat tightened. She fastened it around her neck, the cool metal settling against her skin like it belonged there.
"Thank you."
Mira glanced back toward the hall. "Be careful tonight. Tempers are high after the necklace incident. Lydia is telling anyone who will listen that you used 'witchcraft' to steal it."
Jennie's lips curved in a faint, cool smile. "Let her."
Mira's eyes widened slightly. "The power is growing, isn't it?"
Jennie didn't answer with words. Instead, she lifted one hand. Shadows rose from the ground between them, curling gently around her fingers before sinking away again.
Mira exhaled slowly. "Moon Goddess preserve us. It's true."
"I don't know what it means yet," Jennie admitted. "But I know it's mine."
The elder reached out and squeezed her hand. "Then guard it well. And guard yourself. Power like that frightens people. Especially those who crave it."
A sudden flare of torchlight spilled into the courtyard as the side door opened again.
Lydia stepped out, flanked by Mia and Serena, her face flushed with wine and triumph.
"There you are," she sneered. "Hiding again?"
Jennie straightened, shadows stirring restlessly at her feet.
Mira moved to leave, but Lydia blocked her path. "No need to protect the little thief, Mira. Everyone knows what she did."
"I did nothing," Jennie said calmly.
Lydia held up her replacement necklace. "This is all I have left because of you. But don't worry—the warriors are still searching. When they find my heirloom in whatever hole you buried it in, you'll be gone by dawn."
Jennie met her gaze. "And if they never find it?"
Lydia's smile turned venomous. "Then I'll make sure the pack believes you anyway."
She stepped closer, voice dropping. "Kai will never look at you again. Not after tonight."
As if summoned by his name, the courtyard door opened once more.
Kai stood in the doorway, green eyes narrowing as he took in the scene—Lydia confronting Jennie, Mira standing protectively nearby.
"What's going on here?" His voice carried that natural alpha command, silencing the women instantly.
Lydia spun, expression shifting to wide-eyed innocence in a heartbeat. "Kai! I was just—"
"Accusing Jennie again," Mira finished quietly. "Without proof."
Kai's gaze moved to Jennie. For a long moment, he simply looked at her—taking in the faint bruise, the new pendant glinting at her throat, the way moonlight seemed to pool in her silver hair.
The bond flared between them, hot and undeniable. Jennie felt it like a physical touch. From the slight tightening of Kai's jaw, he felt it too.
Lydia noticed. Her eyes flicked between them, sharpening with jealousy.
"Jennie was just returning to her duties," Lydia said quickly, looping her arm through Kai's. "Weren't you?"
Jennie inclined her head. "Yes, Miss Harrington."
But as she moved to pass, Kai's hand shot out—not touching her, but blocking her path.
"Wait," he said, voice low.
The courtyard went utterly still.
Kai's eyes searched hers. "Are you all right?"
The question—simple, direct—caught her off guard. No one had asked her that in years.
Jennie lifted her chin. "I'm fine."
His gaze dropped to the bruise on her cheek. Something dark and dangerous flashed in his green eyes.
"Who did this?"
Lydia laughed nervously. "It's nothing. She probably walked into a door—"
"Who?" Kai repeated, alpha power lacing the word.
Jennie held his stare. Part of her wanted to tell him. Part of her wanted to watch Lydia squirm.
But she was done letting others fight her battles.
"It doesn't matter," she said softly.
Kai's jaw clenched. "It matters to me."
The bond thrummed between them, louder than any words.
Lydia's grip tightened on his arm. "Kai, the feast—"
He ignored her, still looking at Jennie.
For one breathless moment, the courtyard held only moonlight and possibility.
Then Jennie stepped around him, shadows trailing subtly in her wake.
"Goodnight, Alpha heir."
She walked away without looking back.
Kai watched her go, the pull in his chest twisting into something fierce and protective.
Lydia tugged at his arm. "She's not worth your time."
But Kai's eyes remained on the empty doorway long after Jennie had vanished.
Inside the hall, the feast continued.
But in the shadows outside, something ancient whispered louder than ever.
And Jennie—standing alone on the edge of the forest, moon pendant cool against her skin—finally smiled.