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Chapter 1. Kaelira’s POV “Shift.” She murmured. The healer didn’t look at me. Her fingers hovered above my wrist, where my pulse should be steady. Instead, it fluttered, uneven and weak. I closed my eyes. No brush of fur against my mind. No low hum beneath my ribs or heat curling down my spine. Just… emptiness. The healer exhaled slowly. That sound tells me more than her words ever could. “She hasn’t surfaced in days,” I said, keeping my voice low. “She hasn’t done that before.” The healer’s hand tightened around mine. “Not like this.” I forced myself to look at her. “She is withdrawing, Luna.” The word tasted bitter. “Withdrawing?” I repeated. “She hasn’t responded to your call in months. You haven’t shifted in nearly a year. If she continues retreating…” The healer swallowed. “Your body will begin to fail.” A pause. “You may not survive another year.” The words settled in my chest like stones. I nodded once. Of course. Seven years as Luna. Seven years untouched by fate. Seven years barren…. I rose from the cot slowly, smoothing the front of my gown. The pack healer bowed her head, waiting for my collapse. For tears. For a breakdown befitting a fragile Luna. She won’t get one. “I won’t die,” I said calmly. She didn’t argue. The corridors of the Alpha wing feel colder than usual. The guards bow as I pass. Their eyes flickered briefly to my stomach before snapping back up. They tried to hide it but they never did. Seven years. No heir. The whispers started in the third year. By the fifth, they stopped pretending. Barren Luna, Unblessed, Useless. My wolf used to snarl at that. Now? Nothing. I paused outside Darius’s office. I remembered the night our marriage was announced. My father stood tall beside Alpha Magnus. The alliance was sealed with wine and contracts. And me. A political bridge wrapped in silk. Darius had looked at me then, measured and assessed . Not claiming, recognizing, just calculating. The mate bond was supposed to feel like fire. Ours felt like p
