Chapter 1

"It's just a busted sword. So what if it's broken? Do you really have to look so grim?" Sophia Sinclair tossed the snapped Silver Edge into the mud, then turned to gently fix Ryan Frizzle's collar.

The werewolves around us burst out laughing. None of them knew that the sword was the only thing my ancestors left me, and the only real weapon guarding the border of Silvermoon Territory.

I picked up the shattered pieces and looked up at Sophia, my voice so calm it barely sounded like me. "Alright. If you think it's worthless, then from now on, whatever happens to the pack has nothing to do with me."

*****

The bonfire cast a flickering light over the faces of the werewolves gathered for the Silvermoon Pack's harvest festival. The whole place was alive with celebration.

Elder Gregor Pearce stood atop the platform, delivering the blessing, while below, bowls clinked together and laughter rang out all around.

I stood on the very edge of the crowd, gripping a piece of dried meat in my hand, but I didn't take a single bite.

I hadn't even wanted to come tonight.

But Sophia Sinclair was the Luna, and I was the one guarding the border of Silvermoon Territory. She'd sent word for everyone to attend, and I didn't have the right to refuse.

"Allen, why are you keeping to yourself in the corner again?" Marcus Gallagher from the patrol team clapped me on the shoulder. "Luna's in a good mood tonight. Maybe she'll even give you a bowl of hot soup."

I replied flatly.

Marcus shook his head and walked off.

In the Silvermoon Pack, my status was even lower than the outcasts. I was a Wolfless.

I had no inner wolf, couldn't shift, not even the most basic mind-link. When I was taken in three years ago, Sophia Sinclair said, "Let him live. Let him guard the border. Call it charity."

From then on, I became the most insignificant person in this territory.

No one knew how I managed to keep the border safe.

And no one cared.

Right then, the crowd suddenly stirred.

A few young werewolves stepped aside, making way, and whispers rippled through the air like a breeze.

I followed everyone's gaze.

At the center of the bonfire, Sophia stood in a flowing silver-white dress, her hair loose around her shoulders. Under the moonlight, she was almost unreal in her beauty. She was supposed to be the star of the night, sitting in Luna's seat, accepting toasts from the pack.

But instead, she was standing in front of a man, both hands reaching up to fix the silver clasp on his collar.

That man was Ryan Frizzle. Sophia's first love.

Ryan had come back from the Northern Pack three months ago, saying he'd been traveling. But everyone knew the real story. He'd been kicked out, but Sophia didn't care about that. Ever since his return, she had eyes only for him.

Ryan was dressed in dark leather armor, with two silver clasps at his collar left undone on purpose, a lazy grin on his face. Sophia fastened them for him, her movements smooth and intimate, like she'd done it a thousand times before.

The werewolves around them exchanged glances.

Some chuckled under their breath. Some shook their heads. But no one dared say a word.

She was the Luna.

With Caesar Stanton, the Alpha, away, she was the highest authority in the Silvermoon Pack.

Ryan glanced down at her and chuckled. "Sophia, you're still as thoughtful as ever."

Sophia looked up at him, teasing, "Why are you always so careless? You've been back for so long, but you haven't changed a bit."

Ryan replied, "Well, what do you expect? There's no one around to take care of me."

Sophia didn't say anything, but she couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips.

Everyone could see what was going on.

I wasn't looking at them. I was looking at what was hanging from Sophia's waist.

It was my sword, the Silver Edge.

Earlier that evening, Sophia had sent someone to my guard hut. They said the Luna wanted to borrow my sword "for a bit." I hesitated, but still handed it over in the end.

I didn't get to say no in this pack. But I never imagined she'd use it for this.

Sophia drew Silver Edge from her belt and held it up in the firelight.

"Ryan, didn't you say you wanted something decent to fight with?" she asked.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

"That broken sword from the Wolfless guy at the border," Sophia said, sounding offhand. "He acts like it's his lifeline, which gets on my nerves. Since you needed something, I thought I'd bring it to you."

Ryan weighed the sword in his hand. He said casually, "Not bad, but it's way too long. I'm not used to swords like this."

Sophia paused. "Want me to shorten it for you?"

She said it so offhandedly, like she was talking about breaking a twig.

Ryan shrugged. "Up to you."

Sophia grabbed the sword right in the middle and started to put some force into it.

I took a step forward. But it was already too late.

Silver Edge broke in half.

The sound wasn't loud, but it felt like something inside my chest had shattered.

Sophia handed the front half of the broken sword to Ryan. "Is this short enough for you?"

Ryan waved it around a bit, grinning. "Yeah, this works. Makes a decent dagger."

Sophia gave a satisfied clap, then tossed the rest of the sword on the ground without a second thought.

The broken sword landed in the mud, its silver blade now caked in dirt.

The werewolves around them burst out laughing.