The central room of the Moonlight Pack seemed chillier than the winter season, and it wasn't because of the stone walls or even the cold air. This was a coldness that seeped into your skin, burrowing deep into your bones and hinting at fear, judgment, and what was to come. Along the walls sat torches, their flames dancing as if fire also feared being there. Hundreds of eyes-the wolves, the leaders, the soldiers, and the onlookers-viewed her in one deep, shared silence. Every face seemed to ask a question, and every glance felt like judgment.
The symbols carved into the marble floor glowed softly, like silver threads beating to the quiet chants of the council. They moved like veins that were alive, holding the room together in a light that buzzed under her feet, both a warning and a promise in one.
Luna Isolde stepped forward.
Her boots hit the stone floor loudly with every step: a small display of strength, of power-of the control she had garnered over four long, arduous years. She kept her head up, shoulders back, and her spine straight, showcasing that she was, indeed, the Luna her people needed. But beneath her rigid exterior, her heart raced hard, stuck in her chest as if it would shatter everything she'd worked to keep safe.
Four years of sorrow had stuck to her like a shadow she could not shed off. Four years of pretending all was well, acting like the pain of Carlos's death had not emptied her inside. And now she was here, walking toward the man they said she was supposed to marry again, as willingly as she could.
A vampire.
And not just any vampire.
The Vampire King.
Leslie Reed stood on the other side of the room, shown off by the dark velvet flags of his people. His presence took in light like shadows did, and for a moment, Isolde felt like getting closer would be like walking into nothing. He was tall, much taller than any wolf she had met, and still like a statue made of ice. His black hair touched the back of his neck, and his face, sharp and hard, looked like it was made from ice and stone.
His eyes, icy blue, sharp and very cold, followed her every move, like he could see the thoughts running through her head as she walked.
She made herself breathe normally. Shaking would show a weakness that he or the leaders could use. She would not let them be happy.
The leader of the council raised a peculiar knife to her.
"An agreement cannot be fulfilled without blood, specifically shared. Forward, Luna Isolde.
Her fingers clasped the knife, cold metal that hurt her hand even before she pressed it against her skin. Only she knew how her fingers shook a little, the small fear that almost betrayed her. She exhaled, fast and hard, forcing herself to stop shaking.
Then she pulled out the knife. Red liquid came out right away, making her hand feel warm. It hurt for a short time, a small but strong sign of being alive, but she didn't move. Not where anyone could see.
Opposite her, Leslie Reed extended his hand, and one of his guards handed him a special knife. Leslie Reed did not wait. He did not move. He did not shut his eyes. His skin opened easily, taut and pale; and his blood, unlike hers, shimmered a little silver in the light. He seemed uninterested.
She hated that.
In unison, their blood dripped down onto the bright shapes on the stone floor. The shapes started to glow even brighter, and the wolves shielded their eyes from the light. Vampires mobilized reflexively. A song began, low, with Keystone as its base:
"Blood to bind. Pain to seal. Unity through sacrifice."
Her hand came into contact with his, skin to skin, and the world shrank.
The burning sensation was instant. Hot liquid seemed to course through her body, weaving through her muscles and bones, igniting every nerve as fire. She gasped once, and for that briefest of moments, the words plunged deep inside her, begging surrender, begging union, begging comprehension of the vampire before her.
Leslie didn't twitch; she didn't even flinch. Her jaw didn't clench, and not one little sign of feeling bad was displayed.
His hand was cold, but strong. Her blood felt sticky, hot, and alive. His skin healed right away, smooth and clean, leaving her own cut open and shaking. She shivered as she knew what she was seeing: Vampires could get better from almost anything, yes, but to actually see it, to watch with your own eyes the power, feel your warm blood go away while his skin stays perfect was a mean, unavoidable reminder.
Blue eyes met green eyes.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe. She thought she saw something in his eyes, something human. A fleeting glance. Knowing. A halt. A softness.
That couldn't be true.
Vampires didn't feel anything. They didn't care.
She looked serious again, her mind making her focus on the moment.
The voice of the elder leader boomed in the small room, almost not heard over her quick heartbeat:
"It is done, the agreement between our kinds. Luna Isolde is now remarried to the Vampire King, Leslie Reed.
The word hit like a knife.
Remarried.
Joined.
Her heart ached at the thought.
Connected to the one who had stolen her lover away. Connected in the name of peace, where she felt uneasy about being able to handle.
The room filled with polite, empty clapping. Wolves moved around, bowing to the event. The vampire soldiers stayed in perfect lines. The lights burned brighter, the flames seeming to celebrate a joining she didn't feel.
But inside, all she felt was the sharp emptiness of sadness and being betrayed. Her wolf made a quiet sound in her chest, a sound she hadn't heard in years, not since Carlos died.
She was Luna. She was strong, and she had things she needed to do. And yet, nothing could stop the truth from hurting her: She had just promised to stay with a man that she believed w
as responsible for her partner's death. Absolutely no escape was possible.