The morning felt heavy.

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Not because of the weather–the sun was out, pale gold threading through the shutters of our chamber–but because of the silence pressing in from the halls beyond.

Silence in a house filled with wolves was never natural.

Wolves thrived on sound: footsteps echoing down corridors, sparring grunts in the yard,ughter rising from

kitchens.

Silence meant something had cracked.

I stirred beneath the nkets, my body still sluggish from the poison.

Lira’s herbs lingered bitter on my tongue, their scent still clinging to my skin.

Francesco had hardly left my side since that night. Hey stretched across the bed beside me now, one arm thrown protectively over my waist as though even in sleep he feared someone might take me. His hand twitched when I moved, the reflex of a man who had learned too many times what it meant to wake to loss.

I kissed the back of his hand gently and slid from beneath it.

Mika stirred inside me, her ears pricked. ‘Careful,‘ she warned. ‘Something’s wrong. The pack’s heartbeat is off.‘

Yes, I felt it too.

That restless energy in the air, like the moments before a storm when birds went silent.

The corridor outside confirmed it.

Warriors stood stiff at intervals, their eyes alert, but there was no chatter, no easy banter.

Heads dipped respectfully as I passed, but their gazes carried unease.

It’s like they were guarding something—not just me.

Monica met me at the bottom of the stairs, her face pale, hands wringing her healer’s cloth. fnc81e Follow current nov?ls on ?ovelFind/fnc81e

“Luna.” She bowed, but her voice wavered.

“What is it?” My stomach twisted.

She hesitated. “There’s been… an incident. You shoulde.”

I followed her through the manor, my bare feet whispering against stone.

The air grew colder the deeper we went, until we reached the side courtyard near the old barns. A cluster of

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warriors stood there, their bodies forming a tense circle.

When they saw me, they parted.

The smell hit me first.

It’s bitter. Acrid. Metallic.

My throat clenched before my eyes confirmed what my body already knew.

On the groundy a man.

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One of the kitchen hands–I recognized him faintly from the days I’d spent slipping into the kitchens to help

Maria.

His face was ck, his lips stained with a faint green tinge. His eyes stared sightless at the sky.

Monica knelt beside him, her hands moving with a healer’s precision but her face drawn with dread. “He’s gone,” she said softly. “The poison. It’s the same as yours.”

The same.

I staggered back a step, bile rising in my throat.

Not from fear for myself—Lira’s healing had steadied me—but from the realization.

No, this wasn’t just a poisoning. It was silencing. Someone had killed the man who might have known how the tainted cake reached me.

Francesco arrived then, his presence like a thunderp.

He strode into the courtyard, Marlow and Alfonso close behind him. His ck eyes swept the scene, and the air shifted instantly–wolves stiffened, the tension sharpening. Power rolled off him, barely leashed. He crouched over the bodyi, /inostrils ring as he inhaled. His jaw tightened.

“The same scent,” he growled. “The same bitterness she tasted.” His gaze flicked to me, softer for a heartbeat, then hardened again. “They mean to tell me something.”

Alfonso’s mouth was grim. “Not just you, my King. It seems like they mean to tell everyone. That we cannot keep even our Luna safe. That we cannot keep a kitchen boy alive within our own walls.”

The wordsnded like stones in my stomach.

And worse–he was right.

Already whispers were spreading. I could feel it in the bond we all shared as a pack, the restless shuffle of fear moving through minds and bodies. A man was dead. And his death smelled like mine.

Marlow’s hands flexed at his sides. “This bis /bstrategy. Someone wants the people to doubt. They couldn’t break you with poison, so they strike faith instead. They want wolves looking at you, my King, and asking if you are strong enough to protect them.”

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Francesco’s eyes zed. For a moment I thought he might shift right there in the courtyard, rage pouring too hot to contain. But then his gaze cut to me, and I saw the war inside him: fury demanding blood, love demanding restraint.

“My love,” he said low, so only I could hear. “They will not take you from me. But if they cannot take you, they will try to take the people’s faith. That is how kingdoms rot.”

I reached for his hand. His fingers clenched around mine so tight it almost hurt, but I didn’t let I go. will not let them rot it,” I whispered back.

He looked at me a long moment, then nodded once.

The decision settled into his shoulders.

“Then we

“Burn the body,” he ordered Alfonso. His voice carried, iron wrapped in me. “We will not let their poison spread even in death. And gather the people tonight in the hall. I will speak to them. They will hear truth from me before lies take root.”

Alfonso bowed. Marlow barked orders. The warriors moved.

But, as the circle broke, I caught the edge of murmurs. Eyes darting. Fear unspoken.

That night, the hall filled with wolves. Old ones with weary faces, mothers clutching children close, warriors standing rigid with barely concealed rage. The long dining table I had set days before was pushed aside, reced by benches and standing room.

Francesco stood at the head, tall and terrible, his presence alone enough tomand silence. I stood beside him, my hand in his. He did not hide me away–he ced me in full view.

He spoke simply. “A man was found dead today. Poison. The same poison that tried to take my Luna.” Murmurs rippled, fear thick. He lifted a hand, and they stilled. “This is no ident. It is not weakness. It is war. Someone thinks to frighten you. Someone thinks to frighten me. They want you to believe we cannot protect you.”

His voice grew, deep as the earth itself. “Hear me now. No force, no poison, no coward’s trick will take what is mine. Thisnd, this pack, this Luna. They think to test us. They will learn the cost of their mistake.”

The hall shook with the force of his words.

Some wolves bowed their heads, reverence spilling through them.

Others exchanged nces, emboldened.

Then I stepped forward.

Francesco’s hand tightened, but he let me go.

“They tried to use me to break you,” I said, letting my voice carry. “They tried to make you believe the King cannot keep you safe. But look at me. I still stand. I will not hide in chambers or behind walls. I walk among you, eat among you, nt in your soil. I am not afraid, and you must not be either. Fear is their poison. Faith is our cure.”

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Silence held for a heartbeat, then apuse broke. First a few hands, then many. Not the wild roar of a battle cry, but the steady beat of unity.

Butter, as the crowd dispersed and the warmth faded, I caught a whisper near the back of the hall.

Two young wolves, voices hushed but sharp enough for me to hear.

“If they can’t protect the Luna,” one said, “what chance do we have?”

The words pierced deeper than any de.

I turned, meeting Francesco’s eyes across the hall. He had heard it too. His jaw clenched, and I knew–this was

not over.

Whoever our enemy was, they weren’t trying to kill me anymore.

They were trying to kill belief.