It was no news that the Luna was cursed.
The story was already old by the time the sun rose.
But what made it burn—what made it live—was how fast it traveled. Faster than blood. Faster than truth. Faster than reason.
By the second hour after dawn, the entire werewolf kingdom had heard about her.
The girl with the black eyes.
The bastard Omega with no wolf who was now a Luna.
The disgrace who’d been sold off like livestock and somehow, somehow—ended up on her back on the sacred altar, moaning the Alpha King’s name while her body split open and birthed a creature the gods had long forgotten.
They said she was possessed.
They said she was glowing.
They said she howled in two voices.
And most damning of all, they said the Savage Alpha had knotted her in the presence of the Council a
