CASSIAN POV
I was in my office when the scout arrived.
The heavy oak door creaked open without a knock — only Riven ever did that. He stepped inside, still in half-shift from the ride, breath fogging in the cool air that seeped through the stone walls. Maps and border reports were spread across the desk in front of me; I'd been marking patrol rotations and alliance renewals for hours. Routine. Necessary. A way to keep my mind from wandering south to the garden where she spent her mornings.
"Alpha," Riven said. "News from Blue Moon."
I set the quill down. Leaned back in the chair. "Report."
"Forty days ago they held a burial rite for Alex. River bend. Full ceremony. No body — just a lock of hair on a raft. They burned it at dusk. The whole pack lined the banks, chanted the release, howled to the moon."
My fingers tightened on the armrest. My wolf lifted his head, ears pricked, a low rumble starting deep in my chest.
"And?" I asked.
"No guide appeared," Riven continued. "No past Luna rose from the flames or the mist. Nothing. The elders called it strange. They waited forty days for any sign of her spirit returning to the grounds or the river. When nothing came… they declared the rite complete. Said the Goddess must have taken her beyond their sight."
I exhaled slowly through my nose. The room felt smaller suddenly. The fire in the hearth popped, sending sparks up the chimney.
"She's not dead," I said quietly.
Riven nodded. He knew better than to argue. "There's more. They've sent invitations. Rose of Silverclaw is to be crowned Luna. Full moon, two nights from now. Every allied pack is invited. Including us."
He held out the scroll. Blue Moon indigo wax, crescent sigil pressed deep.
I took it. Didn't break the seal yet. I just felt the weight of it in my palm.
"Dismissed," I said.
Riven left without another word. The door clicked shut.
I stared at the scroll for a long moment. Then I stood, crossed to the window overlooking the central courtyard, and watched the pack move below — training, talking, living. Normal. Steady.
She was out there somewhere in the garden. Adapting. Laughing with Lira over scout knots. Letting Kael drape another blanket over her shoulders like she might vanish if he didn't. Sitting with Mara's cousin when the nights got too quiet. She was making roots here. Small ones. Careful ones. But real.
And Blue Moon was burying her memory.
I found her an hour later.
She was on the low stone bench in the healer's garden, sunlight slanting across her face, hand resting on the swell of her belly. The pup kicked — I could see the small ripple under her tunic from across the path. She smiled down at it, soft and private, like she was sharing a secret.
Lira was beside her again, showing her a new knot. Kael leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, watching with quiet amusement. Mara's cousin sat on the grass, braiding wildflowers into a chain.
Alex looked up when my shadow fell across the path.
"Morning duties?" she asked lightly.
"Border reports," I answered. I stopped a few paces away. I gave her space. Always space.
Lira glanced between us, then stood smoothly. "We'll leave you to it." She nudged the others. They followed without protest, though Kael shot Alex an encouraging nod before they disappeared around the corner.
Alex watched them go. "They're good people," she said quietly. "Lira keeps trying to teach me scout knots. Says I'll need them someday. Kael brings me extra blankets every night like I'm going to freeze in the middle of the palace. Mara's cousin… she just sits with me when I can't sleep. She doesn't ask questions."
I nodded once. "They chose this pack. They choose who they trust."
She looked down at the half-finished leather braid in her lap. Fingers tracing the knots. "I'm starting to feel like I could belong here. Not just survive. Belong."
The words hit harder than they should have. My wolf rumbled low — pleased, possessive, restless.
I stepped closer. Sat on the bench beside her. Not touching. Close enough to feel her warmth.
She didn't pull away.
A small silence stretched. Comfortable. Familiar now.
Then she asked, "What did the scout want?"
I held up the scroll. "Blue Moon sent this. Rose is being crowned Luna. Full moon, two nights from now. They invited us."
Her breath caught. Just once. Sharp.
She reached out — slow — and took the scroll from my hand. Our fingers brushed. That spark jumped — sharper this time, hotter, like a current running straight from her skin to mine. My wolf surged forward, wanting to close the distance.
Wanting more. Her breath hitched. Just once. Her eyes flicked to mine, pupils wide, cheeks flushed.
She didn't pull away immediately.
She broke the seal instead. Unrolled the parchment. Read in silence.
When she looked up, her expression was calm. Too calm.
"They held a burial rite for me," she said. Not a question.
I nodded. "Burned an empty raft. No body. No spirit guide. The whole pack watched. They waited forty days for any sign of you returning. Nothing came."
She exhaled shakily. Folded the scroll. Handed it back.
"The previous Luna… she should have appeared," she said softly. "If the rite was real. If I was really gone."
I didn't press her on how she knew that. I didn't need to. She'd told me once — in quiet fragments — about how the old Luna had been kind to her when she first arrived in Blue Moon, had treated her like her own daughter, had guided her through the early days when she had no memory and no one else. It had been the closest thing to a mother she'd ever known in that pack.
The fact that no one appeared — not even her — meant something. Something was wrong.
"They're moving on," I said. "Or trying to."
She looked toward the courtyard gates. Toward the world beyond.
"I'm going with you," she said.
I raised a brow.
"To the coronation," she clarified. "I want to be there. I will stay hidden.I just want to watch. Let them feel me in the air without knowing why. Let Rose stand in my place and feel every eye wondering why no spirit came for me. Let Demitri look at you and wonder why you're calm when he's the one who lost me."
My wolf growled low — approval, hunger, something darker and more protective.
"You want to walk into that hall?" I asked. "Risk being seen?"
"I want them to feel the wrongness of it," she answered. "Even if they don't know I'm alive yet. I want them to know — somewhere deep — that I wasn't erased. And I want to see it with my own eyes."
I studied her face. The quiet steel in her eyes. The way her hand stayed on her belly, protective. Fierce.
The spark between us flared again — steady now, like a flame that had found dry tinder.
I stepped closer. Just enough that her warmth reached me.
"If you go," I said quietly, "we do it my way. Hood up. Cloak dark. Stay in the shadows. No stepping into torchlight. No speaking. No risk. Riven will ride with us, keeping the perimeter. We'll take the back trails — stay off the main roads. If anyone gets too close, we pull back. No exceptions."
She held my gaze. Nodded once.
"Agreed," she said.
I exhaled slowly.
"Two nights," I said.
She nodded.
And for the first time since she woke up in my territory, the future didn't feel like waiting.
It felt like choosing.
And now she was choosing to walk right back into the fire — with me at her side.