THE OATH OF OBEDIENCE
Freya
It’s been raining since morning. It clings to the glass of the Queen’s Wing like tears that refuse to dry.
Tomorrow, we leave Silvercrest for the Blood Moon Conclave. And two days after, I attempt the Silver Severance.
It feels unreal. And the last four weeks have stretched like years filled with too many revelations, lies, betrayals, and pain. The only comfort in this chaos has been my children and Rowan.
I sit by the hearth, brushing Ivy’s hair while Finn builds a tower of carved wolves by the fire. Rowan stands near the window, scratching the raven’s head that sits perched on his arm.
The calm that settles is broken by a knock.
Tamsin enters, bowing. “Alpha Kade,” that’s all she says.
I set the brush aside. So, he finally decides to show his face.
I’ve half a mind to tell Tamsin I don’t want to see him.
But I do want to hear what he has to say.
Since Izel’s disappearance, the pack has fallen into shambles.
It wasn’t just Rowan and me who heard Izel’s confession.
The word spread quickly, and pack members connected the dots.
They once praised Kade for his effortless victories, but now they see the ugly truth, and the disgusting work he had Izel do to achieve them.
They refuse to obey or answer, or even bow to him. Once revered and strong, he’s now powerless in his own house. Maybe he is also too guilty to ask Rowan and his rogues to leave.
“Take them with you,” I tell Tamsin softly.
Finn looks up, mouth opening to protest, but the look on my face stills him. Ivy hugs my waist, sensing more than she understands. Rowan helps gather their cloaks.
“You should go with them,” I tell him.
He nods. “As you command, High Luna Freya.”
My lips curve into a smile. “I can handle Kade.”
“I know you can,” he answers easily.
He leads the children out, and Tamsin follows. I listen to their footsteps fade before Kade’s heavy but slow steps bring him in.
He stands in the doorway, rain dripping from his hair, eyes rimmed with sleeplessness. He looks older, smaller somehow. He steps closer, his boots leaving faint wet marks on the marble. “I don’t know where to begin,” he says.
“You begin,” I say, “where it went wrong.”
He swallows. “Everywhere, then.”
I don’t move, but my throat works.
“I should have protected you,” he says quietly.
“From Izel. From myself. I kept thinking I was doing what an Alpha should do—control, command, lead—but all I did was destroy. I let her into my head, into my bed, into everything I built.” His voice breaks.
“I don’t ask for forgiveness. Only… understanding. ”
“I don’t have any to give. Neither forgiveness nor understanding.”
He looks up at that, searching my face for something he can’t find. “You won’t even try?”
“No,” I say simply. “Because every time I tried, you made me pay for it. You killed the woman who trusted you, Kade. What’s left now is only the Luna—and she owes you nothing.”
His breath shakes. “Freya, don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I answer. “You did.”
He moves closer and holds my hand, letting the bond flow through.
It overwhelms me momentarily, reminding me of the good things he did that no longer matter.
I can’t wait to be rid of this feeling. Of his control over me.
“Don’t go through with the Severance,” he says.
“If you cut the bond, I’ll lose the pack. ”
“You’ve already lost them.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll lose Emris completely. I’ll be lost. I’ll be a rogue.”
“Maybe you deserve it,” I say, shocking myself because of the harshness in my voice. “But I don’t think you have to worry about it too much. Only if the mates are entirely in love, there’s a chance of your wolf dying in heartbreak.”
“Emris loves Nyx,” he claims.
“Nyx loved him, too. But your actions have ended that love. She supports my decision.”
He flinches, then sinks to his knees in front of me. “Please.”
I almost—almost feel pity for him. Life without a wolf is a curse. But I can’t bring myself to be kind enough to pray he doesn’t lose Emris.
He speaks again. “I was afraid. Of losing control, of losing power. When my father died, I thought I had to be stronger than him. When Izel told me what she could do, I saw it as the opportunity to strengthen our pack.”
“By deceit?” I snap. “How do you call yourself an Alpha? You’re a coward. You’re worse than your father. I hate you. Finn and Ivy will hate you when they grow up and find out what kind of man their father truly was.”
That hits a spot. He stumbles, putting his head in his hands before inhaling sharply. He swallows hard. “I am. You’re right… I am a coward.” Turning back, he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Do what you must, Freya. But before you go, I want you to hear this.”
He walks back to me and kneels, pressing his palm to his chest and bowing his head low. “I, Kade Thorne of Silvercrest, swear an Oath of Obedience to my Luna, Freya Vale-Thorne. I will obey whatever her will commands, whether it frees me or ends me. This is my truth. This is my penance.”
The fire flickers. My heart should crack at the sight of him kneeling there, but it doesn’t. It only aches with something old and hollow.
“Get up,” I say.
He doesn’t move.
“Get up, Kade.”
He rises slowly. His eyes shine with a grief that feels almost human. “I wish I could undo it all.”
“You can’t,” I tell him. “You can only stop pretending you still deserve to hold what you broke.”
He nods once, turns, and walks out. No guard escorts him. No word follows. Just the sound of the rain swallowing his steps.
When the silence settles again, Rowan pushes the door open. He studies my face, then the fire. “You didn’t kill him,” he says quietly.
“No,” I murmur. “Not today.”
He walks forward, unsheathing the blade at his back. The Moonshard sword gleams faintly in the firelight.
“It belongs to you,” he says, laying it flat on his hands.
I stare at the weapon. “That’s your sword.”
“It was never mine,” he says. “It was forged for the High Luna of Nightfell—but one was never born there.”
The metal glows faintly, pale as frost.
Rowan sets it in my hands, and its weight surprises me. It weighs… right. There’s a sense of belonging I feel.
“You’ll need it at the Conclave,” he says.
I look down at the sword, then at him. “You think they’ll let me—a High Luna—walk away alive?”
He smiles faintly. “I think they’ll try to stop you. And I know they’ll fail.”
The storm outside grows louder. I turn the sword in my palms, watching the firelight run across the edge like liquid silver.
Tomorrow, we leave Silvercrest. And then I let them all see who I truly am.