Chapter 2

Logan's POV

"Poor Marcus, torn apart by a bear. Such a tragedy," Elton said, his voice dripping with fake sorrow. His Beta Zephyr immediately nodded in agreement, while Quinn, his Luna, covered her mouth in mock horror.

They exchanged knowing glances, barely suppressing their smirks. "At least he died doing what he loved—hunting," Quinn added with a light laugh.

A group of stupid fools, I thought with contempt, watching their pathetic display.

Elton's eyes wandered to the slaves tied to the pillars. "That bitch has a decent face, just too skinny," he commented casually.

Soren said with slight smile. "Show some respect, Elton. We're at a funeral."

I followed Elton's gaze to the slave he'd mentioned. Her icy stare seemed ready to tear me apart. This intrigued me. While the other slaves cowered in terror, she burned with rage.

Knox, my wolf, grew restless inside me, howling in my mind.

What's wrong with you? I asked him silently.

Her scent, Knox replied, his mental voice tight with confusion. It's... different. Unique. I think she might be our mate.

The words hit me like a physical blow, my entire body rigid with shock.

That's impossible, I shot back. I can't sense any wolf in her. She's clearly wolfless.

I don't understand it either, Knox admitted, his agitation growing stronger. But this is the first time I've ever sensed a mate bond. The scent doesn't lie.

I stared at the slave girl with purple eyes—such a rare color—and brown hair, though she was far too thin. Still, there was something striking about her appearance. My mind reeled with confusion and conflicting emotions. I valued strength above all else—if my fated mate was wolfless, I would reject her without hesitation.

A wolfless mate? The very concept challenged everything I believed about strength. I had always assumed my fated mate would be a powerful Luna, someone who could stand beside me as an equal. Not... this broken slave girl tied to a stone pillar.

But if Knox is right... I found myself studying her more intently. There was something in her defiant gaze, a fire that refused to be extinguished.

Knox began pacing restlessly in my mind. We have to save her, he growled urgently. I won't let our mate die.

She's not confirmed as our mate, I argued back, though doubt crept into my thoughts. And even if she were... she's wolfless. What kind of Luna could she be?

Power isn't everything, Knox replied, surprising me with his intensity. Look at her, Logan. Really look. She's survived this long as a slave. She's endured torture, yet she still has fight in her eyes. That's strength.

I found myself unable to look away from her. Despite my reservations about weakness, something about her drew me like a magnet. Maybe it was the way she refused to show fear even facing death.

We can't just stand here and let her die, Knox pressed. If there's even a chance she's our mate...

I need to think, I told him firmly. This decision affects more than just us.

Wiley stepped onto the altar to deliver his eulogy, snapping me back to reality. "My father, Alpha Marcus, was a great leader who protected our borders with unwavering courage," he began, his voice carrying across the crowd. "I pledge to continue his legacy, maintaining our alliance with Alpha Elton and the Emerald Grove Pack. Together, we will ensure Mistmarsh Pack's prosperity and security."

I sneered inwardly. Elton’s pack bordered my territory to the right. He'd always coveted father's throne, constantly seeking alliances with other packs. Mistmarsh Pack conveniently bordered my territory to the left. His warriors had been harassing my borders for years. His ambition to absorb my pack was obvious to everyone.

I thought coldly, if he wanted war, I'd gladly oblige. I just hoped father wouldn't blame me.

"FUCK YOU ALL!" A girl's fierce cry cut through the air. I looked toward the altar, the slave girl had somehow worked the dirty rag loose from her mouth.

The words rang out across the ceremonial grounds like a battle cry. Every head in the crowd turned toward her, shock rippling through the nobles. My own eyes widened in surprise. This made me smile to myself. She’s really interesting.

The guard's face flushed red with rage and humiliation. He scrambled to pick up the soiled rag from the muddy ground and shoved it back into her mouth, his movements rough and angry.

"You fucking whore!" he snarled. "I'll teach you to keep your mouth shut!" he raised his whip.

No, Knox growled in my mind, his fury building to dangerous levels.

Something snapped inside my chest. Rage erupted through my veins. My hand moved to my sword hilt, my fingers wrapping around the weapon.

How dare he, I thought, my vision tinged red with fury.

The first lash caught her across the shoulders. She arched against the stone pillar. Blood seeped through her torn dress.

The second lash struck her back. Then a third.

Knox was roaring for blood, demanding I tear the guard's throat out with my bare hands.

The crowd around me was murmuring with disapproval—not at the guard's brutality, but at the slave's audacity. Their disgusted expressions only fueled my anger further.

Wiley and Elton exchanged satisfied smiles, clearly pleased with how the alliance discussion had gone. They were completely oblivious to the violence happening.

I squeezed my sword hilt tighter. Every instinct screamed at me to end the guard's life.

But not yet, I forced myself to think. The timing has to be right. If I act too soon, I might not be able to save her.

I barely heard the words as Soren patted my shoulder with a knowing smile. "Logan, you seem distracted?"

Soren, my brother, was always diplomatic, never offending anyone, maintaining perfect neutrality. His Redstone Canyon Pack was the most prosperous and populous in the kingdom. Father favored him most—he was the eldest son and the logical heir. Elton's alliance-building was precisely aimed at countering Soren's influence. I felt no hostility toward Soren, but no particular warmth either.

I nodded coldly. Focus, I commanded myself.

But even as I tried to concentrate on the political maneuvering around me, my eyes kept returning to her.

Maybe Knox is right, I admitted reluctantly.

Soren smiled helplessly and shook hands with Elton as he descended from the platform. Father should be up here giving this speech, but he's a no-show again. That has become all too familiar over the past three years.

"Marcus served our kingdom with distinction fifteen years ago, defending our borders against Aldermere's invasion," Soren declared. "He repelled foreign enemies and launched successful counterattacks, proving himself a true guardian of our realm. His sacrifice and dedication will never be forgotten."

My hand gripped my sword hilt. Marcus was notorious for his brutality. Rumors claimed he'd massacred every member of Aldermere's Moonfall Ridge Pack, yet now he was being praised as a war hero.

She's probably from that pack he destroyed, I realized, living with her family's killer all these years. The thought made my chest tighten.

After Soren finished speaking, he approached Luna Kestrel, offering comfort and embracing her. He walked over to me and whispered, "This is how society functions, even if you don't like it." He shrugged, making a helpless face.

Expecting no response from me, he turned to watch the priests' ritual. I quietly replied, "I know, Soren."

I caught his surprised glance from the corner of my eye. Then he smiled with sudden understanding. "Seems even The Mangler needs to understand politics."

The drumbeats grew louder. I watched the black-robed priests swaying as they walked toward the altar. Fucking grotesque ritual, I thought with disgust. Finding a bunch of deformed servants and dressing them up like priests to frighten people.

The knights carrying Marcus's coffin placed it carefully on the wooden pyre at the center of the circle. Luna Kestrel's sobs grew louder behind her black veil, her shoulders shaking with grief.

But my eyes kept drifting back to the slave girl. The fury in her purple eyes had faded now, replaced by fear she was trying desperately to control. I could see it lurking beneath her defiant surface, the way her hands clenched against the ropes and the slight tremor in her jaw.

My heart sank. My hand tightened around my sword hilt.

Knox was growing more agitated by the second, pacing restlessly in my mind. The closer the red-robed priest got to her, the more violent Knox's reaction became.

Are you certain? I asked him silently.

YES! Knox's mental roar was deafening. She's our mate! I can smell it on her! Save her NOW!

He raised his curved dagger, the blade gleaming in the torchlight.

Knox fought desperately for control, wanting to tear the priest apart. DO SOMETHING! he howled.

I know! I snarled back at him.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew I couldn't hesitate any longer—I had to save her. I pushed through the crowd, drawing my sword as I strode toward the altar.

Soren called out in shock, "LOGAN, WHAT are you—"

BOOM!

A tremendous explosion shattered the night.