Chapter 3

By the third day of Celeste's return, people had stopped pretending her

presence was temporary.

She stood beside Ronan during preparations for the New Moon gathering,

answered questions no one had asked her, and moved through Blackthorne's

halls as if she had never left.

I told myself not to react to every small trespass.

Then she made it public.

The pack meeting was meant to finalize the ceremony and Ronan's

presentation before the visiting Alphas. I had already reviewed the

security plan, seating order, and provisions twice.

When the discussion turned to protocol, Celeste raised her hand.

"There is one issue no one wants to say out loud."

Several heads turned.

Ronan's shoulders went still.

Celeste looked at me.

"If Ronan is asking other packs to trust his leadership, they'll look at

everything around him. Including his Luna."

The room changed.

I felt it before anyone spoke.

She continued.

"Elara has served Blackthorne for three years. I'm not denying that. But

she cannot shift."

Wolfless.

She didn't say the word.

She didn't need to.

But the silver pendant at her throat shifted slightly as she spoke, and for a moment, my wolf—silent for years—felt strangely unsettled.

A murmur passed along the table.

Celeste folded her hands. "Other Alphas will question whether a Luna

without a wolf can stand beside someone seeking authority beyond his own

pack. Pretending they won't ask only leaves Ronan unprepared."

One of the older council members looked toward Ronan instead of me.

That was worse than the whispering.

I placed both palms on the table.

"For three years, I have negotiated disputes, organized winter stores,

settled territory complaints, and represented this pack beside its

Alpha."

No one argued.

Because none of it was untrue.

"My ability to shift has never prevented me from doing the work."

Celeste tilted her head. "This isn't about whether you work hard."

"No," I said. "It's about whether you can convince people that my blood

matters more than my record."

Her expression flickered.

Then I looked at my husband.

I expected him to end it.

He didn't.

Ronan's gaze moved around the table, measuring the faces that had

suddenly become careful and uncertain.

Finally, he spoke.

"Celeste is right about one thing."

Something cold settled beneath my ribs.

"We can't ignore what the other Alphas may use against us."

I stared at him.

He continued, calm and controlled.

"I'm not making a decision today. But before the New Moon ceremony, we

need to consider what is best for Blackthorne."

Not what was fair.

Not what I had earned.

What was best for the pack.

I had heard Ronan use that phrase before. It was the phrase he reached

for when he wanted a decision to sound inevitable.

Around the table, no one met my eyes.

Celeste did.

For the first time since she returned, she didn't smile.

She didn't need to.

The meeting moved on, but I barely heard the next agenda item.

Three years ago, I had entered Blackthorne as a political wife and a

Wolfless Luna.

Then I had spent three years doing the work until the title became mine

in every way that mattered.

Now Ronan was considering whether to take it back.

And I finally understood what Celeste had come home to claim.

It wasn't only my husband.

It was my place.