The Hidden Luna of Blackmoor Valley

Talia's POV

The slap came out of nowhere.

My cheek stung, my ear rang, and I stumbled back against the wall of the storage room with my hand flying to my face. I did not need a mirror to know a red mark was already blooming across my skin. They always bloomed fast on me, like bruises were the one thing my body did without being asked.

Celeste stood in front of me, her hand still raised, her face twisted with fury. Blonde hair perfect. Pale blue gown flawless. But her eyes were wild, like a wolf that had been cornered by something smaller than itself.

"Look what you did," she spat.

I looked. I saw nothing.

She pointed at her own chin, at a tiny red bump I would never have noticed if she had not shoved her jaw in my direction.

"There's a pimple," she shrieked. "On the day the Alpha of Shadowfang arrives. You did this. It's all because of your ugliness and your bad luck. It has contaminated me."

I did not say anything. I learned years ago that silence was safer than words, and cheaper than pride.

"You think because the Alpha is coming, you can make yourself noticed?"

"No."

"Then why were you looking at me like that?"

I lowered my gaze.

It was the answer she expected, and the only one that usually ended the conversation before it became more expensive.

In Cresswood, arguing could cost a person more than pride. A servant who spoke back might lose her supper, her blanket, or the right to sleep indoors. I had learned to weigh every sentence before allowing it past my teeth, because even an innocent answer could become an excuse for punishment in the hands of someone who wanted one.

Celeste stepped closer.

Her perfume was sweet and thick, with a faint floral note that seemed designed to cover the smell of something sour underneath.

"Vivienne wants you in the kitchen before sunrise," she said. "You are not to leave unless someone orders you to. If the Alpha asks whether there are any other unmated women in this household, you will say no."

My fingers tightened at my sides.

I nodded. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Her lips curved. "Good. You are almost useful."

She turned and walked out, leaving the storage-room door partly open behind her.

The lock remained on the outside.

I waited until her footsteps faded into the corridor before I let my shoulders loosen. My hands were trembling, and the skin beneath my cheek had already begun to swell. It would turn purple before nightfall, then yellow at the edges over the next few days, provided no one struck the same place again.

I crossed the room and stood before the cracked mirror above the basin.

The face looking back at me was the one Cresswood knew.

My brown hair hung unevenly around my shoulders, dry from years of being washed with harsh soap and rarely brushed. My eyes appeared smaller than they were, my skin duller, and the narrow line of my jaw seemed to belong to someone older and more exhausted than twenty.

I hated that face.

Not because it was ugly, but because it was a lie I had been forced to wear for fifteen years.

My fingers slipped beneath the collar of my dress and found the silver chain resting against my skin. The small stone hanging from it was smooth and cool, its surface almost black in the weak morning light.

My mother had tied the chain around my neck fifteen years ago.

I had been five years old.

The house had been burning when she found me. Smoke filled the hallways, flames climbed the curtains, and the heat had grown so fierce that I could barely keep my eyes open. She knelt in front of me with ash across her face and blood running from a cut above her eyebrow.

"Never remove the glamour charm before your twentieth birthday," she had whispered.

Her hands had shaken as she fastened the chain.

"Wear it, and they will not see you. Keep wearing it, and they will not hurt you."

Then she had pushed me toward the back door and turned toward the flames.

I had never seen her again.

Everyone in Cresswood said she died in the fire. They said I had caused it, although no one had ever explained how a five-year-old child could have set fire to an entire house. They called me cursed, said my mother had sacrificed herself because she could no longer bear to look at me, and treated every misfortune that followed as proof that they had been right.

They were wrong about the fire.

They were wrong about my mother.

I could feel it, even after fifteen years of silence, in the stubborn part of me that had refused to let her become a memory. She was somewhere beyond Cresswood, and if she was alive, I would find her.

Three years after the fire, I learned my mother's name.

I was eight. It was winter, and I had been sent to scrub the pots until the kitchen fires died. When I finished, I did not go back to the storage room. I went where I always went-the narrow passage behind the dining hall, where the wall was thin and the voices came through.

Vivienne was inside. So was Celeste. I could hear the clink of glass and the low crackle of the hearth.

"Say it again," Celeste said. "The name."

"Ashford." Vivienne's voice was flat and uninterested, the way she spoke when she was already bored of a thing. "Seraphina Ashford. That was the woman's name before she married your father."

"Was she anyone?" Celeste's voice sounded.

"She was no one. A girl from a minor house with a pretty face and no fortune. She died in that fire three winters ago and did us all a favor."

"And the girl?" Celeste had asked.

A pause. I remember the pause more clearly than anything else in the room. It was the kind of silence that has a smile inside it.

"The girl keeps trying to answer to Cress," Vivienne said. "She will not. Not one of Edmund's daughters will carry that name unless I say so. Whatever comes to this house-the titles, the gold, the standing-all of it belongs to you, Celeste. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother." Celeste replied.

"Say it back to me."

"Whatever comes to this house is mine."

"Good girl."

I did not move for a long time after that.

I had spent three years being told I was cursed, ugly, a burden, an accident that should have died with its mother. None of it had ever touched the thing that mattered most. They could take my food. They could take my blankets. They could lock me in a room with no windows and call me whatever they liked.

But there was one thing I had that Vivienne had not known about.

I had my mother's name.

Seraphina Ashford. A girl from a minor house with a pretty face and no fortune.

I said it to myself that night, over and over, until it was the only thing in my head. Not to spite Vivienne. Not to spite Celeste. Just to have something of my own that they could not take, because they did not know it mattered.

The next morning, when Marta asked me for my name to put in the kitchen ledger, I said it out loud for the first time.

"Talia Ashford."

She wrote it down without looking up. She never questioned it. No one ever did.

I had been Talia Ashford for twelve years.

But it started that night, in a dark passage, with a name I was not supposed to hear.

Two days remained until my twentieth birthday.

I would reach it. I would leave Cresswood. Then I would find out what had happened to my mother.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

It was not Celeste's fist, nor the impatient pounding of a servant who expected immediate obedience. Whoever stood outside had tapped three times, carefully and quietly.

I knew that knock.

I opened the door just wide enough for Piper Holloway to slip inside, then shut it behind her. Her hair was loose, her cheeks were flushed, and she was breathing as though she had crossed the entire estate without stopping.

"You will not believe what I heard," she whispered.

I glanced at my reflection in the cracked mirror. "You should be looking at my cheek instead."

Piper's expression tightened. "Celeste struck you again."

"She was upset."

"That does not make it acceptable."

"It makes it predictable."

Piper moved closer, lowering her voice even though there was no one on the other side of the door. "The Alpha of Shadowfang is coming to Cresswood."

I turned toward her. "Why?"

"To choose a mate. Vivienne is presenting Celeste to him, and everyone in the household has been talking about it since midnight."

"I do not care about Celeste's presentation."

"You should care about the Alpha."

"I have more urgent problems."

Piper glanced toward the silver chain hidden beneath my collar. She was the only person in Cresswood who knew what the charm concealed, and even she had never seen my real face.

"You have two days left," she said.

"I know."

"Then perhaps this is not a coincidence."

I looked toward the small window near the ceiling. Dawn had begun to lighten the gray sky, and the first servants were already moving through the outer courtyard.

"What do you mean?"

"Something has been wrong since the Shadowfang envoys arrived." She folded her arms tightly across her chest. "The guards have been doubling the patrols, and Marta told the kitchen staff not to speak to anyone from the visiting pack. Even Vivienne has been frightened."

"Vivienne is frightened of losing control, not of the Alpha."

"Those may be the same thing today."

I wanted to dismiss her, but the warmth beneath my collar made it difficult.

Piper caught my hands. "Be careful, Talia. Whatever Vivienne is planning, she does not want you near the main hall."

"She never wants me near the main hall."

"This time she ordered the servants to deny that you exist."

That made me look at her.

Piper's face had lost its color.

Before I could ask what she meant, footsteps sounded in the corridor. She released me and moved toward the back wall, where a narrow service door opened into the old laundry passage.

"Go," I whispered.

She slipped through the door just as the outer lock turned.

Marta entered without knocking.

Her eyes moved from me to the service door and back again, although she did not comment on what she had seen.

"You are late for the kitchen."

"I was-"

"Do not explain. Come with me."

She turned before I could finish and walked away.

I followed because refusing would only delay the punishment, but Piper's warning stayed with me as I crossed the corridor.

And beneath my dress, my mother's charm had begun to warm against my skin.

For the first time in fifteen years, I wondered whether my mother had known this day would come.

Talia's POV

By the time the sun rose above the eastern wall, my hands were already raw.

I stood beside the kitchen basin, scrubbing a copper pot that was larger than my torso while cooks hurried around me with trays, baskets, and covered dishes. The entire estate was preparing for the Alpha's arrival, and every person who had once ignored the cracks in the walls or the thinness of the winter blankets had suddenly discovered an interest in perfection.

The kitchen smelled of onions, roasted meat, and wet ash. Steam blurred the windows, and the water in the basin turned gray each time I rinsed the cloth.

No one thanked me.

That was normal.

What was not normal was the way conversations stopped whenever someone entered the room.

The first whisper reached me from behind a stack of wooden crates.

"The bonding stone did not react to Celeste."

Another servant answered, "It did not react to anyone."

"The Alpha demanded that every unmated woman be brought before it."

A spoon clattered against the floor.

Someone muttered a prayer.

I kept scrubbing, although the cloth had begun to slip in my fingers. A bonding stone was not supposed to fail. It was older than the packs that claimed it, older than most of the laws governing marriage and succession. According to the stories, the Moon Goddess had placed the first one beneath the northern mountains, and every stone made afterward carried a fragment of that power.

If the stone did not react to Celeste, there would be no wedding alliance between Cresswood and Shadowfang.

Vivienne would be furious.

A younger servant named Kira passed behind me carrying a tray of empty cups. She leaned close enough for her sleeve to brush mine.

"They say Alpha Kaelen threw a chair through the west wall."

I glanced at her. "Why?"

"Because the stone stayed dark for every woman in the household, including Celeste." Kira's eyes widened as she looked toward the kitchen entrance. "They are bringing everyone to the hall now."

I lowered my voice. "Everyone?"

"Every woman who is old enough to be considered unmated."

The cloth stopped moving in my hand.

Kira saw the change in my face.

"You are old enough," she whispered.

Before I could answer, Marta entered the kitchen.

She was a broad-shouldered woman with iron-gray hair and a permanent crease between her brows. In fifteen years, I had never seen her smile, although she had occasionally shown the faintest signs of pity when my knuckles split in winter.

Her gaze moved over the room and stopped on me.

"You. Come with me."

I set down the pot. "Me?"

The question escaped before I could swallow it.

Several servants turned to look.

Marta's brows rose, but she did not waste time asking why I had spoken.

"The Alpha wants to see every unmated woman in the household."

"I am not part of the ceremony."

"That is not your decision."

She crossed the kitchen and took my arm. Her fingers did not hurt, but they were firm enough to make it clear that she would use more force if I resisted.

I followed her out.

The corridor beyond the kitchen was unfamiliar. The walls were decorated with portraits of dead Alphas and Lunas, their painted eyes following us beneath the flickering lamps. I had spent most of my life in the servants' quarters, the kitchens, and the storage rooms, so every step into the main wing made me feel as though I had crossed an invisible boundary.

Marta pushed open a narrow door and handed me a gray dress.

"Change."

I looked at the garment. "Why am I being taken to the hall?"

"The ceremony was interrupted. Celeste is not his mate, and no one else has been chosen."

"That still does not explain why I am here."

Marta hesitated.

It was a small pause, but I noticed it.

"Vivienne told the elders there were no other unmated women in the household," she said.

"Then why am I being brought forward?"

"Because one of the kitchen girls mentioned that another woman had been kept in the storage wing for years."

My steps faltered.

Marta's expression tightened. "The elders demanded to know who she was. Vivienne could not deny your existence without making herself look guilty, so she ordered us to bring you before the stone."

I changed as quickly as I could. The gray dress was too large across the shoulders and too long at the hem, but it was cleaner than the one I had worn in the kitchen. I tucked the charm beneath its collar, checked that the chain lay flat against my skin, and followed Marta back into the corridor.

The main hall was crowded.

Wolves stood beneath the crystal chandeliers in formal clothes, their voices low and tense. The air carried too many scents at once-expensive perfume, polished leather, warm bodies, and the faint metallic edge of fear.

When Marta led me inside, the conversations thinned.

A few heads turned first. Then more.

"Who is she?"

"Is that Edmund's daughter?"

"I thought Celeste was the only daughter."

"She looks like a servant."

"She is a servant."

I kept my gaze lowered, not because I was ashamed, but because looking directly at powerful people invited them to decide that I had challenged them.

Marta guided me through the crowd.

At the far end of the hall stood a black marble pedestal. A round stone rested upon it, dark and smooth beneath the torchlight. The surface appeared empty, yet something about it made the skin along my arms tighten.

The bonding stone.

Beside it stood the Alpha of Shadowfang.

Kaelen Frost was taller than every wolf near him, with broad shoulders beneath a black suit and a stillness that made the movement around him appear nervous. His dark hair had been brushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jaw and eyes the color of steel beneath winter ice.

He looked toward me.

Something inside my chest pulled.

The elder standing beside the stone lifted one hand.

"Talia Ashford," he called. "Come forward."

The hall seemed to grow longer as I crossed it.

I stopped before the pedestal.

For a moment, the stone remained dark.

Then a pale blue light appeared beneath its surface.

Talia's POV

The glow strengthened gradually, spreading through the stone like moonlight beneath frozen water. It illuminated the elder's robes, the polished marble, and every stunned face in the hall. Someone gasped near the entrance. Another wolf whispered a prayer.

The elder bent toward the stone, as if looking for some explanation hidden beneath its surface. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

At last, he straightened.

"Alpha Kaelen," he said, and his voice sounded unsteady. "This woman is already bonded to you."

Kaelen's gaze shifted to the elder. "Already?"

The elder swallowed.

"The bond was recorded two years ago."

The world seemed to tilt.

Two years ago, I had been eighteen. I had been living in Cresswood, sleeping behind a locked door and working in the kitchens whenever Vivienne needed another pair of hands. I had never left the territory, never attended a ceremony, and never seen the man standing in front of me.

"How is that possible?" I asked.

Kaelen's attention moved to me.

His face remained composed, but something in his eyes had changed. It was not recognition. If anything, it looked like the same confusion that had settled in my chest.

"Where were you two years ago?" he asked.

The question was directed at me, not the elder.

I tightened my fingers around the edge of my dress. "Here. In Cresswood."

"Did you leave the territory?"

"No."

"Did you meet anyone from Shadowfang?"

"Not that I know of."

His jaw tightened slightly. "Were you taken anywhere without your knowledge?"

I thought of the root cellar, the storage wing, and the days when fever had kept me too weak to remember how I had been moved from one room to another. Yet no memory resembled a ceremony, a journey, or an encounter with an Alpha.

"No," I said. "I would remember."

The elder raised his voice so the entire hall could hear.

"The bond is recognized, but the Luna title is not automatic. The bonded female must complete three Luna Trials within one year."

The words moved through the room in a wave of whispers.

Celeste pushed forward.

"She cannot be Luna."

The elder continued as though she had not spoken.

"Until the trials are completed, the council may recognize the bond while withholding full authority from the female claiming the title."

"One year?" I asked.

The elder nodded. "Three trials. Each will test a different part of the woman who seeks to stand beside the Alpha."

The announcement should have frightened me, and it did. Yet it also gave my fear a shape. A trial could be studied. A rule could be understood. A deadline could be measured.

Being hated by Cresswood had never offered me anything I could fight.

This did.

Celeste's voice broke through the hall.

"This is a mistake! She is nobody!"

Vivienne caught her arm, but Celeste tore herself free.

"She has lived in a storage room for fifteen years," Celeste cried. "She cannot be a Luna. She is uneducated, filthy, and cursed."

The elder lifted his staff.

"The wedding ceremony will take place tonight."

Celeste stared at him as though he had personally betrayed her.

Vivienne's expression became carefully blank, but her fingers remained clenched around the folds of her gown.

My father stood near the back of the hall, silent as ever.

Celeste stepped forward again. "This bitch is playing some tricks."

"Watch your mouth, Lady Celeste," Kaelen said, his voice rising. "This woman is going to be my future Luna."

"How could you choose her over me?!" Celeste nearly screamed.

Kaelen's eyes moved over her once, cool and assessing.

"If I must choose between a quiet woman who answers plainly and one who turns every disappointment into a public spectacle, my preference is not difficult to determine."

The hall went silent.

My pulse stumbled.

This was the first time I had ever heard an Alpha dismiss Celeste's behavior on my behalf.

Celeste's expression crumpled with fury. She lunged toward me. Her hand caught the edge of my sleeve, and her fingers closed around the fabric near my shoulder.

"You will not stand there and pretend to be innocent."

Kaelen moved between us before the fabric could split.

Celeste tried to stop herself, but her heel caught the edge of the marble platform.

Her body twisted. She stumbled backward, struck the side of a ceremonial table, and fell hard onto the polished floor.

One of the silver trays placed on the table toppled with her. Its contents scattered across the marble, and a dark red drink splashed over the front of her pale-blue gown.

For one suspended moment, Celeste lay on the floor beneath the eyes of the entire pack.

The humiliation she had tried to force upon me had landed on her instead.

Kaelen looked down at her. "Stand up."

Celeste's face burned with anger. "She pushed me."

"I saw what happened."

"You are lying for her."

"We all know who is lying."

Kaelen's gaze moved across the hall.

"No matter what she was before, Talia is my bonded partner now. No one is allowed to touch her without respect."

Celeste pushed herself upright.

"She is not your Luna yet."

He looked at me. "But she is the woman the stone chose."

He then turned to Aldric, who had been standing near the entrance.

"Clear the west receiving room."

Aldric bowed. "At once."

Kaelen then looked at me.

"Come with me."

This time, he did not reach for my hand.

I followed him out of the hall, aware of the eyes on my back and the murmurs that rose again as soon as the doors closed behind us.