“Still here.” Her voice was soft but unwavering. “Still not running.”
A growl rumbled through him. “You will be.” He cupped her face in his claws, impossibly gentle despite the violence coiling in his muscles. “Listen to me, Elsa. When those doors open, you run. No matter what you hear behind you. No matter how close I sound. You run.”
“Because the ritual demands it.”
“Because I demand it.” His thumb traced her cheekbone, achingly careful. “The Blood Moon makes us feral. Makes us forget. If you stop—if you give yourself to me before I’ve earned you—the court will say you surrendered. That I didn’t trulywinyou. That our bond is charity rather than conquest.”
“And you care what they think?”
“I care that no one can question you.” His voice dropped into something darker. “When you stand beside me as Luna, there will be challengers. Doubters. Those who see a human and assume weakness. I need them to know—to witness with their own eyes—that you were hunted by the Alpha King under the Blood Moon, and you made him work for every step.”
Understanding flickered in her expression. “This isn’t just ceremony.”
“Nothing with me is just ceremony.” He pressed his forehead to hers, sharing breath and heat and the electric tension thrumming between them. “Run, Elsa. Run hard and fast andsmart. Use that navigator brain of yours to give me hell. And when I catch you—”
“When you catch me,” she finished, her hands rising to grip his wrists, “I become Luna. Yours. Forever.”
“Forever.” The word resonated through him, settling into the place where her scent now lived permanently. “No take-backs. No escape clauses. No pretending this didn’t happen when the moon fades.”
“I know.” She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her expression steady despite everything. “I made my choice, Sylas. Last night. Maybe before that. Maybe from the moment you looked at me like I was something worth keeping instead of discarding.”
The confession hit him like a blow to the chest.
He wanted to say something—anything—that would match the weight of her words. But the beast was too close to the surface now, and words were becoming harder, the urge to act overwhelming the need to speak.
Instead, he pressed his mouth to her forehead, letting the touch say what language couldn’t.
Mine. Yours. Ours.
Through the walls of the Luna room, he heard the distant sound of horns—the signal that the Blood Moon was cresting the horizon, painting the sky in shades of crimson and shadow. The hunt would begin within the hour.
Sylas forced himself to step back. To release her. To breathe through the primal demand to claim her here and now, tradition be damned.
“The doors will open soon.” His voice came out rough, barely recognizable. “You’ll have a head start. Use it.”
Elsa pulled the red hood up over her golden hair, framing her face in crimson. In that moment, she looked like theMoon Goddess made flesh—innocence wrapped in danger, prey dressed as purpose.
“See you soon, Alpha King.” A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Before he could respond, a different set of obsidian doors at the far end of the chamber groaned open, revealing the winter night beyond. Cold air rushed in, carrying the scent of snow and pine and the copper tang of the Blood Moon’s light.
Elsa turned and walked toward the exit, her red cape snapping in the sudden wind. She didn’t look back. Didn’t hesitate.
She simply stepped through the doors and vanished into the crimson darkness.
Sylas stood alonein the Luna room, her scent wrapped around him like chains.
The horns sounded again—one long blast that echoed through the fortress, out into the territory beyond, announcing to every Yzefrxyl within earshot that the Alpha King’s Mating Hunt had begun.
Somewhere in the fortress above, he knew the court was gathering at windows and balconies, straining to catch a glimpse of the hunt. The Lux Priests would be offering prayers to the Great Snow Beast. The Lux Knights and Sabers would be taking their positions at the boundary markers, ensuring no one interfered.
And Ryxin—his brother would be watching with the same fierce attention he’d given his own hunt for Ari, understanding in a way no one else could what it meant to chase the impossible and catch it.
Sylas moved to the open doors, letting the winter air wash over him. The Blood Moon hung enormous and red above the tree line, its light painting the snow in shades of rust and shadow. Somewhere in that forest, Elsa was running.
He could feel her—a bright thread of determination and fear and something fiercer than both. Her heart raced. Her breath came fast. Her legs drove her forward into the unknown, trusting him to follow, to find, to claim.
The countdown began. Tradition demanded he wait—give her time to disappear into the trees, to use every advantage the terrain could offer.