Chapter 4
The rain came down in sheets, each drop feeling like a tiny dagger against my skin as I climbed the treacherous cliff face. Thunder crashed overhead, lightning illuminating the jagged rocks above me. My fingers, raw and bleeding, found another handhold as my foot slipped on the muddy slope.
"Just a little further," I whispered to myself, though I knew it was a lie.
There was no Moon Stone. There never had been. But I'd had to try—for my father, for the small chance that Sabrina's vision might be real.
*Lies*, Luna growled within me. *We know better now.*
My wolf had grown stronger since that day in the dungeon, her presence a constant warmth in my chest. But she was still too weak to shift fully, too damaged by years of neglect and abuse.
The wind howled around me as I reached a small ledge. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the summit—and the figure waiting there.
"Well, well," a man's voice called over the storm. "Look what the rain washed up."
I squinted through the downpour. He was tall and lean, with the unmistakable wildness of a Rogue in his eyes. Scars crisscrossed his face, telling the story of a life lived outside pack law.
"Drake," I said, the name coming to me from whispers I'd heard in the pack house. "Sabrina sent you."
He laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "Smart girl. Too bad you're about to be sold to the feral fighting rings."
"There's no Moon Stone," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
"Of course there isn't." He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "But there's a pretty price on your head. Seems your 'Seer' wants you gone—preferably dead, but she'll settle for you being someone else's problem."
I took a step back, my heel meeting empty air behind me. The ledge was smaller than I'd thought.
"Don't worry," Drake said, circling me slowly. "I'll make it quick. Well... relatively quick."
He lunged without warning. I dodged, but my weakened body betrayed me. His fist connected with my ribs, sending me sprawling across the wet rock.
"Fight back!" Luna snarled within me.
I scrambled to my feet as Drake advanced again. This time I managed to land a kick to his knee, but it barely slowed him.
"Feisty," he growled. "I like that."
A thunderclap shook the mountain—or was it something else? The air suddenly charged with an energy that made the hair on my arms stand on end.
Drake froze mid-attack, his head snapping toward the treeline above us.
"What the—" he began.
The night exploded into chaos.
Shadows detached from the darkness, moving with impossible speed. Drake's Rogues—I hadn't even realized they were there—fell silent one by one.
"Who's there?" Drake shouted, backing toward me.
I felt it before I saw it—a presence so powerful that the air itself seemed to bend around it. The storm clouds parted, moonlight spilling onto the cliff top.
A figure emerged from the shadows. Tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes that glowed like molten gold in the darkness.
"Maxwell Spencer," Drake whispered, his voice cracking with fear.
The Lycan King moved like liquid night, his hand closing around Drake's throat before anyone could react.
"You dare touch what's mine?" Maxwell's voice was quiet, controlled—and utterly terrifying.
Drake's eyes bulged as he was lifted off his feet. I pressed myself against the cliff face, watching in stunned silence as Maxwell squeezed, his eyes never leaving mine.
When Drake went limp, Maxwell tossed him aside like trash. Then his gaze locked with mine, and something electric passed between us.
"Siena," he said, my name on his lips like a prayer.
The world tilted sideways as exhaustion finally claimed me. I felt myself falling, but instead of hitting the ground, I was caught in strong arms.
Warmth. Safety. Home.
---
I woke to sunlight streaming through gossamer curtains. For a moment, I thought I was dead—that the Moon Goddess had finally taken pity on me.
"She hasn't," a deep voice said from across the room. "But she did send me to find you."
I sat up slowly, taking in my surroundings. I was in a massive bed, covered in silks that felt like clouds against my skin. The room around me was equally luxurious—all dark wood and rich fabrics.
"Where am I?" My voice was hoarse.
"My private estate on the border of Royal Territory," Maxwell said, rising from a chair by the window.
He looked even more imposing in daylight—tall and powerfully built, with silver-streaked black hair and those golden eyes that seemed to see straight through me.
"Why did you save me?" I asked.
Maxwell approached slowly, as if afraid I might bolt. "Because I've been looking for you for a very long time, Siena Grant."
He knelt before me, a King on his knees—and placed his hand gently over mine.
"Do you feel that?" he asked softly.
I nodded, unable to speak as sparks of gold electricity danced between our touching skin.
"The Second Chance Mate bond," he explained. "The rarest gift of the Moon Goddess."
I pulled my hand away in fear. "I can't... I'm already mated."
"Not anymore." Maxwell's eyes darkened. "Not since Jasper rejected you in front of his entire pack."
"But why would you—a King—want someone like me?"
Maxwell's expression softened as he took my hand again. "Because you are not what they made you believe. You are royal blood, Siena. And I will help you claim your vengeance."
As he spoke the words, Luna stirred within me—stronger than before, more present.
*Yes*, she whispered. *This is our path.*
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