SIXTY SECONDS OF TRUTH
Freya
I dream of Rowan.
He stands before me in his wolf form, protecting me from a herd of rabid rogues. When I feel brave enough to finally look at their faces, I see the Elders who make up the High Council, and leading all of them is Kade.
I wake up to the news of a stricter border patrol being implemented. Kade sends his best warriors to scour the forest surrounding our territory for any imminent danger.
Rowan was right. We won’t see each other now. But at least he gave me the herbs to brew fresh antidotes before the envoy arrived.
The man sent by the High Council did his job right—making Kade paranoid about Nightfell and its rogues. But Kade has yet to ask me about the envoy’s accusation. I remember how he reacted when the envoy asked about rumours of me fraternizing with rogues.
Perhaps someone saw me when I visited Rowan and told the council about it. Maybe this person also told them about the High Luna’s mark.
I return to my chamber and drag my wooden chest aside to reveal a small secret shelf built into the wall.
It holds all the ledger that proves Izel’s treachery.
I’d hoped to present it in front of the High Council at the Blood Moon before I demanded to attempt the Silver Severance, because the thought of showing them to Kade feels absurd.
He doesn’t see me anymore—not as his Luna or wife.
He only sees her. He’s tangled in Izel’s web of lies, and he’s beyond saving.
Now, even the council doesn’t seem like an option.
Putting the chest back against the wall, I spare a glance at my diadem.
The Luna’s crown, Nyx unmuzzled, and a witness circle.
That’s all I need. And then I’ll be free. Free from Kade. Free to choose my path. Free to take my children away with me.
◆◆◆
Brin’s hut is unusually warm today. I quickly learn why.
He sets the clay bowl on the table between us. A scrap of linen lies inside, faintly stained.
“What’s this?” I whisper, leaning forward, my eyes widening in awe as I watch it glisten unnaturally.
“It’s a tether, Luna Freya,” he explains. “It is made using small magic.”
“Small magic?” I blurt out, failing to hide the horror in my voice.
Brin winces. “It’s not witchcraft,” he insists. “I drew power from the sun. It was a small enchantment, but it is very powerful.”
I nod slowly, still watching the bowl. Not all magic is bad, I recall my mother’s words faintly. “This is why you asked for Nyx’s fur?”
Brin nods, continuing, “If you steep this cloth in your blood and Nyx’s shed fur, then hide it near Finn, it will call to him. It will weaken Izel’s spell over time.”
I stare at the cloth. “If there’s any chance Finn might get hurt, I don’t want to do it.”
Doesn’t mean you should ever stop being careful, she heard her father say, responding to her mother’s words.
Brin shakes his head. “No, it’s harmless. All it will do is remind him of your scent. His real mother’s scent.”
With an exhale, I place my palm forward.
Brin doesn’t hesitate—he picks up a knife and makes a straight cut in the centre.
Blood trickles down the side of my hand and disperses into the bowl.
The cut heals quickly. I’m stronger now, I think momentarily before I watch him add the fur to the bowl.
It dissolves in the liquid, and all at once the cloth soaks it up.
My hand trembles as I pick it up, gasping when it feels dry and smooth. “What if she finds it?”
“Then she’ll know you’re fighting her. But I’d wager she’ll be too proud to search his bed for ghosts.” He folds my fingers around the cloth. “Tonight, Luna Freya. Take the moon-amber, give him one breath of truth, then plant the tether.”
I tuck it inside my sleeve. My chest aches, heavy with fear and hope. “Sixty seconds,” I whisper.
“Make them count.”
◆◆◆
Hours later, the keep is still. Only torches crackle along the hall. Jax shadows me, his boots silent against stone.
“Door’s ahead,” he murmurs.
“I know, brother.” My grip tightens on the moon-amber.
When I met Jax and asked if he’d help me enter the nursery, he didn’t hesitate.
He bowed and got to his feet. I didn’t think it would be so easy.
But I understand where his obedience stems from.
He recognises my authority once again, now that Nyx is no longer silent and weak.
He remembers the oath he swore to me, and he chooses to obey even though it goes against his Alpha’s immediate command…
and perhaps he remembers that I’m his sister.
‘You’re the High Luna,’ Nyx echoes within me. ‘Your word overrides everyone else’s.’
Jax quickly convinces the guard on duty to switch places. The man did not have much of a choice. Jax stands as the strongest among the betas, ranking just beneath Kade and me in the pack’s order of power.
I push the nursery door open. Lavender and milk flood the air. The fire is dimmed but warm, yet still does little for illumination. Finn lies curled around his wooden wolf, lashes dark against his cheeks. Six years old, and stolen from me by lies and magic.
“Stay by the door,” I whisper.
Jax inclines his head and takes position.
I kneel at the bed. The amber warms, then burns in my hand. I press it gently against Finn’s chest. Its glow spreads like moonlight, catching on the seams of the quilt. The stench of almond and blood wafts to me—Izel’s glamour. A second later, it cracks.
Finn’s eyes snap open. “Mama?”
My throat closes. “Yes, love. It’s me.”
He sits up, clutching my sleeve, tears spilling fast. “I knew it! I—I told Ivy once, but then it was gone. Why did you leave?”
“I never left,” I whisper fiercely, pulling him close. “Izel made you forget. But I am your mother.”
His small body trembles. “She said you weren’t safe.”
“She lies. Listen—” I tug the folded cloth from beneath my cloak. “This will help. Keep it close to you. When things feel wrong, smell for me. You’ll know. Okay, sweetheart?”
I slip it deep into the seam of his pillow. His eyes follow, wide and wet.
The amber dims. Sixty seconds almost spent.
“Don’t go,” he pleads, voice cracking.
“I won’t. Not truly. Remember me, Finn.”
And then it slams back. Blood and almonds. His gaze clouds, the haze returning. His hands drop. He jerks from my touch. “You’re not safe!” he cries, scrambling back on the bed. “Mama Izel says—”
The door creaks.
Jax’s hand flies to his blade. “Someone’s coming.”
I freeze.
Izel.
I recognise her scent now, and quickly hide behind a folding screen in the dark corner.
“Beta Jax, what are you doing here?”
Jax’s voice is clear. “I’m here by command to protect the Alpha’s heir.”
“Kade worries too much,” I hear her comment.
She sweeps in, wearing her pale silver dress that trails the floor behind. Her gaze cuts across the room. She strides to Finn’s bed and strokes his blonde hair—a shade he got from me. “Darling, did you wake?”
He blinks at her, dazed. “Mama?”
“Yes.” Her smile curves sweet for him, then her eyes flick over the nursery. She lingers on the dark corners. I don’t breathe.
At last, she seems satisfied. She turns back to Finn, her sweetness dissolving.
“You’re restless again.” Her tone hardens. “I’ve told you not to call for shadows in the night. You’ll make me cross. Kids truly become more annoying as they grow up!”
Finn flinches. “I—I wasn’t—”
She grips his chin, tilting his face to hers. “If you make me angry, you’ll be sorry. Do you understand?”
He nods quickly, eyes wide.
Her smile returns, sugar laced with venom. “Good boy.” She pats his cheek, then tucks him down hard beneath the quilt. “Now sleep. No more nonsense.”
At last, she glides out, leaving the door ajar.
I wait until Finn is breathing softly again. Reaching over to him, I run my hand over his hair. My sweet boy. How dare she threaten him?
My blood is boiling with anger, but there’s nothing I can do right now. I’m helpless, and I hate it.
Jax walks in and exhales. “That was too close, sister.”
My jaw clenches. “I will make her suffer,” I tell him, hands closing into fists.
“I want you to tell Kade to get Ivy back here in the nursery. Convince him—I don’t care how.
I don’t want my daughter sleeping curled up next to that witch!
You will make sure she never gets a moment alone with my kids, Beta Jax. Is that clear?”
Jax nods. “Your wish is my command, Luna Freya.”