Adide’s POV

I knelt on one knee, my spine finally rxing.

The decree from Lycan Erasmus arrivedte, but it arrived.

“Thanks, Lycan Erasmus, for his mercy!” As my words fell, the coolness of the ground beneath my palm, mixed with the scent of

withered leaves from the courtyard, was oddly reassuringpared to Bloodmoon’surel fragrance.

Ulrik stood rigid in my peripheral vision, his face ashen.

He opened his mouth but no sound emerged–I knew he was shocked, confused, perhaps even recalling all my patience and concessions over the past year.

But those spections bno /blonger concerned me. My gaze was fixed on the parchment in Fabian’s hand, the gilded wolf–head crest gleaming warmly in the autumn sun.

Rosemary suddenly clutched my sleeve, her nails digging painfully into the fabric.

“Adideb, /bit was all a misunderstanding!” Her voice carried unprecedented urgency, “I thought you were trying to stop Ulrik and Velda, so I-”

I gently withdrew my arm, putting half a step between us.

Her grip lingered on the sleeve, but it no longer swayed me.

“If it’s a misunderstanding, rity would suffice,” I said, turning to Fabian with a smile. “Beta Fabian, once Frostfang is resettled, do be /bby for Beata’s baking–her honey scones earned praise even from Lycan bLuna/b.”

bFabian /bnodded, his eyes holding a hint of brelief/b. “Lycan Erasmus specifically mentioned Frostfang’s Packhouse has been renovated to your bchildhood /bmemories. The construction department worked for thirty days straight”

He lowered bhis /bbvoice/b. “Luna rissa often spoke of you, mentioning how you used to bhide /bcandied berries under her pine bdesk /bas

a child.b” /b

My throat tightened. Staring at the cobblestones, I bwatched /bautumn sunlight cast slender bshadows /bin the cracks.

“Thank Lycan Erasmus for meb,/b” bI /bbsaid/b, lifting my head to find bRosemary /bbwatching /bme.

Her eyes bswirled /bwith emotions I couldn’t bdecipher/b–perhaps regret, bperhaps /bresentment, but none mattered anymore.

“Once, I was Bloodmoon’s bLuna/b,” I nodded slightly at Rosemary, “band /bnaturally followed its rules. Not anymore.”

Before she could bspeak/b, I turned btoward /bBeata, who bwaited /bwith a wooden box.

bInside /by my father’s medals and my bmother’s /bbsilver /bwolf–bhead /bb.

+16 Bonus

Ulrik suddenly blocked my path, his gaze asplex as northern winter snow.

“Did you n to leave ever since 1 asked bLycan /bErasmus to approve my bond with Velda?”

His voice, low and raspy, carried a vulnerability I’d never bheard /bbefore. “What exactly can’t you ept her?”

“Why am I ept bher/b?” I looked up, watching the Bloodmoon sigil on his chest bsway /bin the breeze. “ept your broken vows? A

hollow title? Or a lifetime of pretense in Bloodmoon?”

My lips curled. “Ulrik, we both know some things shouldn’t be trampled once vowed.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Not a single shred of regret?”

His voice was a whisper. “This year… what about us?”

“Regret what?” I cut in, tracing the gilded script on the parchment. “bThere’s /bnothing to regret. From the moment you broke your

oath, you meant bnothing /bto me.”

Recalling his usations, my tone turned sharp. “Velda ims she’s above jealousy, but I won’t even waste breath exining

“above” to her.”

As I turned, my whip cracked against the stone steps. “Ulrik, some paths end not from jealousy, but from pride–the daughter of Frostfang’s Alpha doesn’t kneel for crumbs of a heart.”

???

The courtyard wind suddenly rose, carrying Rosemary’s plea and Ulrik’s silence into the autumn sun.

Beata draped a leather coat over my shoulders, her touch warm and unchanged.

A chapter of life in Bloodmoon was closing

Ahead, Frostfang’s banner would fly proud, and 1, bearing the Davidson legacy, would stride into broader horizons.

“Let’s go,” Halsey said, wiping her btears /bbas /bshe rose with a bcane/b.

Her figure stood firm in the autumn bsun/b.

The elder invited by Bloodmoon slipped away in the chaos, her skirt brushing the threshold with a sigh.

The Tenar family stood rooted in the courtyard. Ulrik’s hand was clenched, his knuckles pressed against the Blood Moon

medallion

I bknew /bbwhat /bbthey /bbwere /bstaring at the gilded word on the bparchment/b–a sharp needle piercing theirst bshred /bof hope for Frostfang’s wealth

“Large furniture can’t be moved btoday/b,” I bsaid /bbas /bOmega Jessica directed packing “Send a truck tomorrow–not a single nail left

for them.”

“bYes/bb, /beven the storage bjars /bbneed /bbinventory/b,” bBeata’s /bbeyes /bbsparkled/b. “Every bde /bof grass from Frostfang deserves toe home.”

“Let’s go,” I bsaid/b, taking the leather jacket from Beata. Passing through the courtyard, bUlrik /bstill stood motionless, a soulless

statue.