Chapter 1

The silver needle trembled between my fingers as I tried to thread it for the third time. Tomorrow, I would become Luna of the Silverback Pack, yet my hands shook like autumn leaves in a storm.

"Steady, Eliza," I whispered to myself, echoing my mother's gentle voice from years past. The white ceremonial gown spread across my bed seemed to mock me with its pristine perfection. Each stitch I planned would bind me to Richard Silverback—a man whose wolf scent of pine and iron left me feeling nothing but cold duty.

I finally caught the thread and began the Moon Goddess invocation pattern my mother had taught me. The familiar rhythm of needle through fabric usually calmed my nerves, but tonight, each puncture felt like a countdown to a fate I couldn't escape.

*Harbinger of death.*

The whispered accusation from my childhood still haunted these walls. First my father's hunting accident when I was seven, then my mother's sudden illness when I turned thirteen. Both times, I'd been there. Both times, the pack had drawn their own conclusions.

A knock interrupted my brooding. "Come in," I called, quickly wiping my eyes.

Sophia glided through the door, her honey-blonde hair catching the lamplight. My younger sister's beauty had always been effortless, unmarred by the shadow that followed me.

"Still working on that old thing?" She wrinkled her nose at the traditional embroidery. "Richard won't care about some dusty ritual. He's modern, you know."

I kept my eyes on my stitching. "Mother would have wanted—"

"Mother's dead." Sophia's voice held that sharp edge I'd grown accustomed to. "Has been for years. Maybe if you'd stop living in the past, people might forget what you are."

The needle slipped, pricking my finger. A drop of blood welled up, staining the white fabric. Perfect. Even my own body betrayed me.

"I should go," I said quietly. "The ceremony's at moonrise."

Sophia's laugh tinkled like breaking glass. "Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

The pack house courtyard overflowed with witnesses under the full moon's silver gaze. I stood at the ceremonial circle's center, the white gown now hiding the bloodstain beneath layers of my mother's embroidery. Richard waited opposite me, tall and commanding in his formal Alpha heir attire.

Alpha Marcus Silverback's voice boomed across the gathering. "Tonight, we witness the joining of my son, Richard Silverback, heir to this pack, with Eliza Bennett." He paused, and I felt the weight of a hundred stares. "May the Moon Goddess bless this union and strengthen our bloodline."

Richard stepped forward, his wolf scent intensifying as our proximity triggered the mating bond's initial threads. Pine and iron invaded my senses, but where others spoke of warmth and desire, I felt only the cold weight of obligation.

"I, Richard Silverback, claim you, Eliza Bennett, as my mate," he intoned, his dark eyes holding mine with practiced intensity.

"I, Eliza Bennett, accept your claim," I responded, my voice barely above a whisper.

As our hands joined for the binding ritual, a bone-chilling howl split the night air. Then another. And another.

"Rogues!" someone screamed.

The courtyard erupted into chaos. Wolves burst through the perimeter—mangey, wild-eyed creatures with nothing to lose. Richard shoved me aside, shifting mid-leap to meet the threat. His massive brown wolf tore into the nearest attacker.

I scrambled backward, my gown tangling around my legs. All around me, pack members shifted and fought. The metallic scent of blood overwhelmed the ceremonial incense.

A rogue lunged at me, yellowed fangs bared. I couldn't shift—had never been able to—so I grabbed a fallen ceremonial torch, swinging it desperately. The wolf yelped and retreated, but in my wild swing, I struck one of the courtyard's support beams.

The old wood, already weakened by age, groaned ominously.

"Richard!" I screamed, seeing him locked in combat directly beneath the failing timber.

Time slowed. The beam cracked, splintered, and fell. Richard's wolf looked up just as the massive weight crashed down. The sickening crunch of bone and wood swallowed my scream.

"No!" I collapsed beside the wreckage, my hands uselessly pulling at the beam. Richard's wolf form lay still, crushed beneath the weight. Around us, the pack warriors drove off the remaining rogues, but their victory meant nothing.

My mate was dead. On our mating night. Because of a beam I had struck.

As Seraphina Silverback's anguished howl pierced the night, I knew with bone-deep certainty: the harbinger of death had claimed another victim.

And this time, there would be no forgiveness.