The Luna Who Rose From Ashes

POV: Maya

"Is the camera running? Make sure the bastard can see her face. I want him to smell her terror through the screen."

The voice belonged to Kaelen, a rogue whose breath reeked of cheap liquor and old blood. He grabbed a handful of Maya’s matted hair, yanking her head back to force her to look into the lens of a cracked smartphone. Maya didn't scream. Her throat was too dry, parched from three days of silence and the metallic tang of the silver chains biting into her wrists. She stared into the camera, her vision blurring, trying to project a silent plea to the man she had called her husband, her Alpha, and her mate for five long years.

"Alpha Fenris," Kaelen sneered, his face inches from Maya’s ear. "We have your precious Luna. She looks a bit dusty, doesn't she? The Iron Claw Pack is rich, and we’re greedy. Ten million in untraceable gold by midnight, or we start sending her back to you piece by piece. Starting with the finger that wears your ring."

The phone crackled as the connection surged. On the small, flickering screen, the backdrop of a glittering ballroom appeared. The sound of a violin quartet and the clinking of champagne flutes drifted through the speaker, a cruel contrast to the damp, dark cellar where Maya lay.

Maya saw him then. Fenris was dressed in a tailored midnight-blue suit, his silver hair slicked back to perfection. His arm was draped possessively around the waist of Sasha, a high-ranking pack warrior who had been wearing Maya’s jewelry and sleeping in Maya’s bed for months.

"You're interrupting my toast, Kaelen," Fenris said, his voice smooth, bored, and utterly devoid of concern. He didn't even look at the camera at first; he leaned down to whisper something into Sasha’s ear that made her giggle.

"Did you hear me, you arrogant mutt?" Kaelen roared, tightening his grip on Maya’s hair. She let out a small, sharp gasp of pain. "I have your Luna! The woman you marked!"

Fenris finally turned his gaze toward the screen. His golden eyes, once the source of Maya’s comfort, were as cold as a winter tomb. He took a slow sip of his drink, his expression one of mild annoyance, as if he were dealing with a persistent telemarketer rather than the kidnapping of his wife.

"I heard you," Fenris replied. "But I think you’ve overestimated the value of your cargo. Look at her, Kaelen. She’s pale, she’s weak, and she hasn't shifted in years. She’s a Luna in name only."

"Fenris, please," Maya whispered, her voice cracking. It was the first time she had spoken in days. "Please. They’re going to kill me."

Sasha leaned into the frame, a mocking pout on her lips. "Oh, poor Maya. Still waiting for someone to save you? You were always such a burden to the pack. Always needing protection, always taking and never giving."

"Quiet, Sasha," Fenris said, though there was no bite in