The news broke before dawn.
I was catching my breath, squatting in the dim panic shelter beneath Rowan's estate, when the screen over us switched on. Emergency broadcast override.
A woman, looking impeccable in a scarlet blazer, emerged amid images of burning destruction.
And we interrupt those pensive thoughts, with breaking news: Blackwood Global CEO identified as responsible for the supernatural assault at Lune Vale Ruins. Officials say a feral wolf blooded female, undoubtedly his covert bride, was observed activating bioweapon defense systems. Multiple Council enforcers are also believed to be dead. Residents are advised to report any sightings of the suspect immediately."
The image cut to me.
In wolf form. Eyes glowing silver. Covered in blood.
On the other hand, half-shifted — barefoot, growling, wrenching a weapon out of a soldier's grip.
Then a slow zoom on my mark.
Text boldly flashing at the bottom of the screen:
THE CEO'S MONSTER BRIDE.
My stomach twisted.
The screen remained unreadable as Rowan continued to gaze at it. "They were waiting for this."
"They had footage," I whispered. "Of everything."
"This means it was leaked by someone on the inside.
I turned to him. "They completely turned the whole world against me."
Rowan didn't flinch. "Then we make them afraid of somebody who's even scarier."
By morning, the Blackwood Tower had frozen Rowan from his very accounts.
(source) The board issued a no-confidence vote.
Council media dubbed him a traitor to pack-kind.
His estate went on the alert—guards at every door, patrols doubled. Everyone whispered. The wolves who had kneeled to me mere days before now eyed me with suspicion —or worse, pity.
Inside I walked up and down the main hall, like a caged thing.
"They will never believe I am not a threat, now," I said. "Even if we did figure out what that clone is."
"You're not here to prove anything," Rowan added, stepping out of the comms room. "You're supposed to survive."
I met his eyes. "You're losing everything because of me.
"I'm choosing you," he snapped. "There's a difference."
That silenced me.
He took a step forward, more leisurely this time.
"When I inherited the company, I had no interest in mates. I didn't believe in marks. "I believed the bond was an instrument."
"And now?"
"And now I get up every day and there's a kid who somebody built who doesn't love. Doesn't bleed. And I'd burn down the world to preserve the real one."
My throat tightened.
"You can't protect me from everything," I murmured.
"No," he replied. "But I can rescue you from that."
He handed me a silver ring.
Thin. Simple. Engraved with runes.
"It's a blood-seal. Ancient. Last War: Worn by bonded pairs. If it's against you, it'll hold my smell to you. There will be no wolf or Council or tracker that can tell where one ends and the other begins."
"You're marking me… permanently."
"No," he said. "You're marking me. I can't shield you from every blade. But if they come after you now … they'll have to get through me."
I looked at the ring.
And slid it on.
The second it connected with my skin, warmth flared in my chest. My crescent pulsed once—strong, steady.
Rowan let loose with his breath as if he'd been holding it for years.
His fingers brushed my cheek.
And then—
BANG.
The door exploded inward.
Smoke grenades clinked on the floor, hissing.
Rowan had thrown me to the floor behind a marble pillar just as the shots rang out.
Not wolves.
Humans.
Black armoured military with corporate symbols, not the Council.
Rowan's voice buzzed in my comm. "Private task force. Blackwood internal."
"They're yours?"
"They were."
Shots rang out.
One glanced my arm — I flinched, half turned, wolf snarling under my skin.
"They don't want to kill me," I realized. "They're here to extract me."
"To hand you over to the clone," Rowan spat. "For a public unmarking. It'll humiliate the bloodline. Your claim on the Vault be expunged."
"I'm not going with them."
"Then run. I'll handle the breach."
"No," I said. "We end this. Now."
Jumping out claws extended I hit the closest soldier. He faltered—a space long enough for Rowan to take advantage, to disarm the second and send a silver-edged blow right to the leader's heart.
He dropped.
The other withdrew, taking wounded, melting into the trees before the backup came tearing for them.
I was standing stark still, with blood on my hands, and the ring on my finger still softly moving.
Rowan spat blood away from his mouth. "They'll try again."
"Let them," I said. "But next time … we get the jump on them."
He turned to me slowly.
Eyes dark. Hungry.
"And what is it you would suggest, Luna?
My lips curled. "You've just been fired, hunted and branded a traitor. Your reputation's already burned."
"And yours?"
I lifted my chin.
"Let's make them afraid of the truth."
An hour later, Rowan was facing a webcasting camera—real-time link hijacked from the Council's planetwide feed.
His shirt was unbuttoned, a crescent charge brand blazing.
I was standing there next to him, hand in his, ring slightly up, and then everyone saw it.
"This isn't a surrender," he said, his voice even. "This is a declaration. You don't get to rewrite a prophecy with some media spin and an engineered monster. You can't unmark what destiny already burnt into our skin."
He turned to me.
And for the first time, he was not speaking as a CEO, or an Alpha.
He spoke as mine.
"She is not a weapon. She is not a mistake. She is my Luna."
Then I stepped forward.
"My name is Maris Hayes. And if you want me—"
I stared straight at the camera.
"You'll have to rip me from the neck of the man I love."
Silence.
Then we cut the feed.
Rowan turned to me.
"That was reckless," he said.
"That was war," I replied.
But before he could broach the subject, his phone buzzed.
He answered.
Then paled.
"What?" I asked.
He looked at me.
"The clone's gone rogue."
My blood froze. "What do you mean?"
"She's usurped Blackwood Labs."
"And Elian?"
"They say he's alive."
I stepped forward.
"Where is he?"
Rowan hesitated.
And then the last thing I was expecting was said.
"In her wedding dress fitting."