No one talks about the Black Moon.

They say children born beneath its ink-stained light are cosmic errors, mistakes corrected before their seventh winter. At eighteen, I am the error that lived.

As the Alpha’s daughter, I should have been royalty. Instead, I am a ghost in my father’s house, treated like rot beneath the floorboards and never touched without heavy gloves. I have no wolf and no future—until the night I am rejected by my fated mate.

When my heart breaks, the sky breaks with it. The moon turns black, lightning strikes, and a plague begins to destroy my pack from the inside out. The Priests’ verdict is simple: to save the wolves, the "curse" must be bled dry.

Sentenced to death, I steal one final night of freedom in the neon haze of a forbidden club. There, I meet a dangerous stranger with a deal that tastes like sin and salvation.

Yes, they called me a mistake. They called me a sacrifice. But when I return for the Bloodline rituals, the Goddess didn’t choose my sister to save the world. She chose me. 

Now, the Kings of wolves, mages, and vampires are coming for me; they all want a piece of the Black Luna to tip the scales of war. They think they can buy my blood, my presence, or my hand in marriage…

They are wrong, because the shadow beneath my skin… is finally hungry.

Excerpt:

"You're a long way from the attic, little curse," he says, his voice a low, silk-wrapped growl.

"I'm a few hours from an altar," I shoot back, my sassy edge finding its footing. "I figured I'd see what the world looks like before I'm bled dry for it."

He leans down, his breath warm against my ear. "The Blood-Claw pack is foolish. They think they can solve a plague by killing the only thing the Goddess actually bothered to mark?”

"They think I'm a mistake. Who are you to tell them otherwise?"

He pulls back just enough to look me in the eye, his silver gaze pinning me in place. "I’m the Prince," he says, the title sounding like a threat. "And that’s enough.”

He reaches out, his thumb grazing my jawline, tracing the path where my father’s hand usually leaves a bruise. I should flinch, but the shadow in my blood is purring at his touch.

“I have a proposal, Iskera. If you go back alone, you die at dawn,” he whispers, his eyes darkening. "They’ll open your throat to appease a Goddess who isn't even listening. But if you go back as my property? If you wear my ring and carry my name?"

He leans closer, his lips inches from mine, his scent of sandalwood and winter air filling my senses.

"Not even your father would dare draw his knife against what belongs to me."

I ignore the restless pacing of Lakh in the back of my mind and try to focus on the gibberish Julian is spouting. 


He is droning on about me coming over to the Vampire Kingdom, about how the Vampire Princess is unable to leave the confines of her realm, and something about her father's suffocating overprotectiveness. 


I feel a flicker of pity for the Countess; she clearly has no real value to the royals who sent her here as a pawn. More than that, I'm annoyed that they didn't rate the Werewolf Kingdom highly enough to send a royal. 


Why should I, a Prince, be affiliated with a mere Countess? They didn't rate us well at all. Not that I'm interested in the Princess either, but they don't need to know that.


"What do you think, Prince? Are you up for a visit to the Vampire Kingdom?" Julian asks, his voice smooth as glass. "I promise you will enjoy your stay. It will be a good opportunity to see the kingdom that you will soon have a left foot in."


Chapter 26 - Hospitality