Chapter 3

Ella’s Point of View

Seraphina sneaks back behind the scenes for the memory crystal. Hearing praise for her “special‑effects” prank from festival guests, she grins with relief.

She pokes my arm. “Quit pretending, Ella. The Alpha is gone.” Beneath the cape, I do not stir.

She activates the crystal and points it toward us. “Since our future Luna is unwell,” she announces, “I will host the Blood‑Moon Festival in her place!” She shoves my head down hard to force me into a bow.

A sharp jolt runs through my spirit. The last connecting tissue in my neck snaps.

The curtain flies open. Karen storms in, golden eyes blazing with Alpha fury. “Ella!” he snarls. “Are you refusing to host just to turn me against Seraphina?”

Seraphina bursts into fake tears and steps between him and my body. “It is all my fault! I only wished to help her!”

Karen softens toward her. He glares at my silent form. “Must you make her cry?”

Layla, the clan healer, hurries inside. She has the sharpest nose in the castle. “We need to move this execution stand right away,” she says. Then she sniffs the air. “There is far too much blood.”

Seraphina quickly lies, claiming she spilled animal blood for the show. Layla moves to lift my veil and check my breathing. Seraphina slaps her hand away, arguing about ritual makeup.

A wolf howl echoes from the main hall. The crowd grows impatient. Karen grabs Layla’s wrist and pulls her back. “She is fine,” he insists. “My mate only wants me to coax her.”

He takes out a moonstone brooch, our old engagement gift, and pins it to my velvet cape. “Please, Ella,” he whispers against my veil, “do not leave me alone tonight.” He turns and walks off. “Do not be late for the ceremony.”

My head hangs loose, barely held by black lace.