Chapter 4: Moonlit Reckoning

The night of the full moon hung heavy over the Darkmoon territory, a vast, silver coin in the star-strewn sky. The air itself thrummed with primal energy, making my skin feel too tight, my senses hyper-aware. The bond, usually a persistent ache, had become a live wire, singing a siren song that pulled every cell in my body toward its source. Toward him.

The pack celebration was in full swing in the central clearing. A massive bonfire licked at the darkness, and the sound of drums and laughter echoed through the trees. But I felt detached, an outsider looking in. The festive atmosphere only highlighted the chasm between me and the rest of the pack. The whispers had died down to speculative glances, but the memory of my birthday, of Ezra’s rejection, was a fresh scar on the night.

My wolf was agitated, pacing under my skin. ‘The moon calls. Our mate is near. Why do we hide?’

‘Because we have to,’ I thought, taking a sip of a sweet, non-alcoholic drink, trying to appear nonchalant. My gaze, against my will, found him. Ezra stood near the high table, surrounded by his senior Betas and the elder, Marcus. He looked every inch the Alpha—powerful, controlled, a king holding court. But even from across the clearing, I saw the tension in his broad shoulders, the way his jaw was clenched a little too tight. The moon was getting to him, too.

A couple of younger, brash Betas, emboldened by the moon and perhaps by my newly minted status as the Alpha’s rejected, yet tantalizingly bonded, step-daughter, swaggered over. “Little Lila,” one of them sneered, his breath smelling of ale. “All alone on a night like this? Maybe the Alpha’s too busy for you, but we’re not.”

Before I could form a retort, a low, guttural growl ripped through the night, silencing the music and laughter for a heart-stopping second. It wasn’t a human sound. It was the voice of a predator.

Every head turned to Ezra. His eyes, glowing with the feral light of his wolf, were fixed on the Betas who had approached me. The air crackled with his unleashed power, a suffocating pressure that made the two wolves shrink back, their bravado evaporating instantly.

“Apologize,” Ezra’s voice was deceptively quiet, but it carried the weight of an avalanche. “And get out of my sight.”

They stammered apologies and fled. The music started up again, uneasily. Ezra’s gaze met mine across the fire. The anger in his eyes was molten, but beneath it, I saw something else—a raw, possessive fury that sent a forbidden thrill straight through me. He had defended me. As an Alpha defends what is his.

Then came the dancing. The traditional invitation where unmasked wolves could ask another to dance under the full moon. My heart hammered against my ribs. I kept my eyes down, hoping to be invisible.

I wasn’t.

A tall, lean figure approached. He wasn’t from our pack. His scent was of open plains and wild sage. Kai, the visiting Alpha from the nomadic Sun-Fang pack, who had arrived earlier for trade talks. He offered a charming, slightly dangerous smile and a graceful bow.

“A dance, Luna Lila?” he asked, his voice smooth. The title, though unearned, was a courtesy that made my cheeks heat.

My wolf perked up with interest. ‘Strong. Not ours, but… interesting.’

Before I could even process a response, a shadow fell over us. Ezra was there, moving with a speed that defied reason. His hand closed around my upper arm, not painfully, but with an iron grip that brooked no argument. The contact was electric, the bond roaring to life with such intensity that I saw stars.

“She’s not available,” he ground out, his voice a low, vicious snarl directed at Kai. The possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable, a stark contrast to his public denial just days before.

Without another word, he pulled me away from the stunned Kai, away from the firelight and the watching eyes, into the deep shadows of the ancient oaks that bordered the clearing. The sounds of the celebration faded, replaced by the frantic beating of my own heart and his ragged breaths.

He pushed me back against the rough bark of a massive tree, his body caging me in. The heat of him was a furnace, the scent of him—anger, jealousy, and that undeniable, intoxicating pull of the bond—making me lightheaded. The full moon painted his face in sharp relief, highlighting the savage beauty and the internal war raging within him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his face inches from mine. His eyes were wild, his wolf close to the surface.

“He only asked me to dance,” I managed to say, my own voice trembling.

“I saw the way he looked at you,” Ezra’s breath was hot against my skin. His gaze dropped to my lips, and my own parted involuntarily. The space between us crackled with tension. The bond was screaming for completion, for me to close that infinitesimal distance.

His hand came up, his knuckles brushing a stray lock of hair from my cheek. The touch was shockingly gentle, a stark contrast to his furious tone. It was his undoing. And mine.

“You will stay away from him,” he whispered, the command laced with a desperate, aching need that shattered me. “Do you understand me? Stay away from him. From all of them.”

In that moment, with his body pressed against mine, with the moon witnessing our downfall, the last of my resistance crumbled. This wasn’t the Alpha or the stepfather. This was the man, the mate, laid bare by jealousy and the moon’s madness.

But his words, his command, sparked a final ember of defiance. My own pain and humiliation rose to the surface.

“Or what, Ezra?” I challenged, my voice barely a whisper. “What will you do? What right do you have to demand anything of me?” I met his burning gaze, pouring all my hurt into my next words. “Tell me. What is your claim? As my stepfather? Or as my Alpha?”

The words hung in the air between us, a lethal weapon.

I saw the exact moment they struck home. The raw desire in his eyes was doused by a wave of horror and self-loathing so profound it was like a physical blow. He flinched back as if I’d slapped him. The hand that had been touching my cheek fell to his side, clenched into a white-knuckled fist.

The spell was broken. The Alpha mask, fractured and stained with shame, slammed back into place.

He didn’t answer. He just looked at me, a torrent of unspoken agony in his stormy eyes, then turned on his heel and vanished into the darkness, leaving me alone against the tree, my body thrumming with the aftermath of his touch, my soul aching with the cold void of his departure.

The moon shone down, a silent, merciless witness to our sin, and to the devastating truth that we were both prisoners of a bond that promised heaven but delivered only hell.