Chapter 1The December corridors pierced with supernatural cold, a chill that went beyond mortal temperatures.
Alpha Valdrin had left Ravenna outside for three hours, her limbs stiff with frost, her lips pale as moonlight.
Ravenna couldn't understand her transgression. Was it simply because she refused to surrender her wolf's heart to Winter?
Behind Alpha Valdrin stood their young son, his posture rigid, mirroring his father's coldness. "Mother, because you won't give Aunt Winter your heart, she can't play with me anymore."
"You won't really die anyway, so why not give Aunt Winter your heart?"
"If you don't agree, I'll never call you Mother again."
Despite steeling herself for this moment, her son's icy words pierced Ravenna's heart like silver.
Young Ash was only seven, but he'd inherited his father's brilliant mind and, devastatingly, his same preferences.
They both favored her twin sister—Winter.
The thought sent waves of pain through Ravenna's chest. She'd always known about Valdrin's obsession with his lost mate. When she first received her Moon-Blessed Trial, attempting to earn Valdrin's favor, she understood the impossible task ahead.
Valdrin had rejected every female wolf, no matter how perfectly she matched his requirements. Every attempt ended in failure.
Until the third time, when the Moon Goddess granted her the form of Winter's twin sister.
Wearing a face that echoed Winter's, she successfully became Valdrin's mate, standing beside him for eight years.
She'd remained loyal through his darkest moons, shared in his triumphs, watched him rise to power. His favor rating had finally reached ninety-nine percent.
Ravenna had foolishly believed she'd succeeded, that Valdrin had grown to love her.
Then Winter returned to the territory, needing a heart transplant.
Valdrin demanded Ravenna's heart.
With each refusal, his favor dropped another point.
Finally, he revealed the cruel truth: "Why resist? You can't leave my side without completing your Trial. I know the Moon Goddess bound you to this task. Until it's done, you must keep trying to please me."
"Submit willingly, and I might feel sympathy. My favor might increase. Why not be clever about this?"
Be clever.
Ravenna laughed through her tears.
Valdrin was certainly clever—his tactical precision in pack negotiations matched only by his calculated manipulation of her emotions. He measured feelings like territory boundaries, using cold authority and tiny slivers of hope to force her repeated submission.She realized then that Valdrin didn't dislike her—he was simply heartless, utterly devoid of warmth. A block of iron that would never heat, no matter how long she held it.
If that was the case, she refused to waste another eight years.
"I agree," Ravenna finally consented through her tears.
Simultaneously, she sent a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess: "After this death, please assign me a different Trial subject."
Once she surrendered her heart to Winter, this vessel would perish completely.
When that happened, she wanted nothing more to do with Valdrin.
Valdrin, Ash—both father and son, she would relinquish them forever.
A flicker of surprise crossed Alpha Valdrin's typically stoic features.
Ravenna had always been defiant, never one to submit easily. He'd prepared for a lengthy battle of wills.
Yet here she was, yielding so quickly, so decisively.
"Are you certain about this?"
Ravenna nodded, forcing a bitter smile. "Since you all want me to give her my heart, I will."
Valdrin fell silent, momentarily unsure. His brow furrowed, sensing something amiss in Ravenna's demeanor, but he dismissed it. "Come inside and rest."
The moment she entered, young Ash thrust something before her, his stance imperious. "Bad Mother, fix this."
On the table lay an intricate silver moonweave band.
By its craftsmanship, it was clearly from the European packs—likely belonging to Winter's daughter.
Ravenna's laugh was hollow. Like father, like son—their devotion extended even to Winter's pup.
Ash bristled at her laugh, his small face contorting. "I want it fixed by tomorrow morning. Do it now."
Ravenna's gaze turned cold. "I can't."
Chapter 2
Moonweave was notoriously complex to repair, and this piece bore a significant tear. The restoration would take considerable time.
After three hours in the bitter cold, her fingers were too numb for such delicate work.
But Ash erupted: "You're useless! You just don't want to do it! I promised Sweet Sister it would be fixed tomorrow. You have to do it today!"
Ravenna clutched her warm cup, her voice like frost: "Ash, I'm your mother, not your servant!"
She rarely showed strictness with Ash. His inherited brilliance meant she never worried about his studies.
Instead, Ravenna had devoted herself to being his caretaker, attending to his every need.
From daily necessities to his health—she'd been meticulous in her care.
Yet Ash always found fault.
Accustomed to her domestic devotion, he took her service for granted, while constantly criticizing her efforts.
Even her storytelling voice wasn't the right pitch for him.
Ravenna had understood that raising a gifted pup came with challenges, so she'd endured it all.
But now, her patience had run dry.
Startled by her tone, Ash looked to his father.
Valdrin emerged from the kitchen, addressing Ash: "Let your mother rest tonight. She can fix it tomorrow."
Suddenly, Valdrin resumed his role as the attentive mate.
Wearing an apron, his gaze soft, he tucked a heated stone into Ravenna's lap and stroked her hair. "Why get angry with a pup?"
Ravenna shifted away from his touch.
Her voice was eerily calm: "I'm not angry with him."
She was simply informing Ash that she would no longer be his servant.
Valdrin's hand froze mid-air before withdrawing.
The silence carried an unsettling weight, an inexplicable sense of loss.
Valdrin frowned. This wasn't like Ravenna. He'd expected tears, accusations, resentment—then eventual submission.
Instead, she'd skipped straight to acceptance.
As if she simply didn't care anymore.
"Let's eat," Valdrin changed the subject, bringing out a bowl of venison stew, made from a fresh kill from the sacred hunting grounds.
He served Ravenna first.
"Warm yourself with this. Isn't herb-seasoned venison your favorite?"
Ravenna stared at the rich broth, the tender meat infused with sacred herbs that only grew under the full moon.
Valdrin's specialty.
But—
Bitterness rose in her throat.
"Herb-seasoned venison was Winter's favorite."
Valdrin paused briefly, then continued casually: "You're sisters. Your tastes should be similar."
Ravenna laughed mirthlessly.
Her preferences were nothing like Winter's.
But Valdrin only remembered Winter's likes.
His mind, usually occupied with pack alliances and territory negotiations, had carved out a special place for every detail about Winter.
"I hate venison," Ravenna said quietly.
"I hate its gamey taste. It's repulsive. Like eating dirt."
Valdrin continued serving, his voice neutral: "It strengthens your wolf heart."
Ravenna's grip tightened on her spoon. So that was his concern.
She said nothing more, forcing down the bowl before retreating to her chamber.
For eight years, Ravenna and Valdrin had slept in separate chambers.
Valdrin claimed his wolf senses were too acute for shared sleeping quarters, so she'd volunteered to take the guest wing. Eight years in solitude.
In truth, he simply couldn't bear sharing a bed with her.
Now, none of it mattered to Ravenna anymore.
The next morning, she woke with a pounding head, disoriented and weak.
Loud banging echoed through her door.
"Mother! Useless mother! Why haven't you risen to prepare my morning hunt?"
Ravenna's body felt leaden. She struggled to rise, realizing it was already past moonset.
Ash needed to join the young pups' training at first light. Usually, she'd wake before dawn to prepare his morning meal and pack his training gear.
When she opened the door, Ash kicked her leg with his boot.
At seven, his wolf strength was already formidable. Ravenna stumbled back, gripping the doorframe to stay upright.
"Where's Father?"
The den was empty, no trace of Valdrin.
Ash sneered, "Father has pack duties. He's busy leading our territory. All you do is laze around the den, and you can't even wake up to feed me."
Indeed, Valdrin was always occupied.
As Alpha of Silver Creek territory, his duties were endless, consumed by pack politics and border disputes, leaving little time for family.
When Ash had fallen ill as a pup, she'd taken him alone to the pack healer, running between herbalists and medicine women until she collapsed from exhaustion. After Ash recovered, she fell ill herself.
Valdrin's only response had been a cold: "Next time, send a pack servant."
So dismissive, those words.
Having never raised a pup himself, he couldn't understand a mother's worry when her child was sick.
Pack servants could run errands, but how could she trust them with her pup's care and comfort?
Valdrin never understood this, only criticized her for not delegating.
Now Ash shared his view.
"Aunt Winter is right—you're just lazy, not a proper mother at all!"
A child's cruel words cut deepest.
Ravenna stared at her son, the pup she'd carried through nine moons.
She'd raised him from first breath, when he'd nuzzle into her neck, swearing with a pup's conviction to protect his mother when he grew strong.
How had it come to this?
Ravenna's laugh was bitter: "Ash, can't you sense I'm ill?"
Ash finally noticed her pallor.
His frown mirrored his father's coldness, showing irritation rather than concern.
"How stupid, getting sick at a time like this. Someone who can't even maintain their wolf strength doesn't deserve to be my mother."
With that, Ash left with his training gear.
Ravenna slumped against the doorframe, her vision swimming.
The door slammed shut.
Clutching her chest, Ravenna thought bitterly: Soon, I won't be your mother at all.
Chapter 3
Swallowing two healing herbs, Ravenna donned her ceremonial cloak and ventured out.
The December frost bit deep into her bones.
At her territory's artisan quarter, her pack craftsmen awaited: "Luna, we've been waiting. The winter solstice ceremonial robes need your approval."
Ravenna accepted the design sketches from her beta.
She'd mastered the ancient art of moonweave crafting, establishing her own guild after years of apprenticeship. Though not the largest pack artisan guild, it was her pride, built on her exacting standards.
Yet among today's submissions were several poor designs.
"How did we accept an apprentice of this caliber?" Ravenna frowned.
Her beta shifted uncomfortably. "These... these are Winter's designs."
Of course.
Three moons ago, Winter had returned to the territory after her mate-bond broke, bringing her pup.
The Pack Council had pressured Ravenna to grant Winter a position as Master Weaver.
Winter's skill barely matched an apprentice's, but when Ravenna refused, the entire pack turned against her. After endless confrontations and threats of pack sanctions, she yielded, giving her sister a lesser weaver's position.
But now this was her work.
Removing the offensive designs, Ravenna instructed her beta: "Handle her submissions diplomatically, but keep them from my sight."
She drew out her own improved designs. "Share these with the other weavers. See if they're worthy of the solstice ceremony."
Her beta's eyes gleamed with respect. "Luna, you honor us. Your craft is renowned across all territories."
Ravenna dismissed the praise, focusing on other duties. After her death, when the Moon Goddess granted her a new form, her guild would scatter. Years of dedication, lost.
She planned to entrust it to her most loyal packmate, but first, she would complete the winter collection—her final tribute to her craft.
Working until mid-day, her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten. As she prepared to hunt, her chamber door burst open.
Her father, the former Alpha, stormed in, his scent sharp with urgency. "You're here, as I suspected."
He crossed the room in two strides, his command absolute: "Come to the Pack Healer. Now."
Ravenna remained still.
This wolf before her—her blood father—was the same one who had banished her from the pack years ago.
Both she and Winter were daughters of the Alpha bloodline, yet their parents' hearts beat only for Winter.
To them, Winter was the obedient daughter, while Ravenna was the scheming betrayer.
When Winter accused her of stealing sacred pack relics, no defense could save her. Even when Winter's plot destroyed Ravenna's reputation and threatened pack alliances, they never questioned Winter's word.
It was her father who declared before all neighboring packs: "The Silver Creek Pack claims only one daughter—Winter."
"Ravenna is banished. Her actions no longer reflect our pack."
The other packs mocked her as the cast-off wolf.
Now he stood before her again.
"Winter's condition has worsened. She needs your blood."
The chamber fell deathly quiet.
Ravenna wanted to ask how, after seven years, he dared stand here making demands.
"Her fate means nothing to me."
Her father's face darkened. "She is your blood sister!"
Ravenna's laugh was hollow, each word dripping with seven years of pain:
"Blood sister? Father, or should I even call you that? Have you forgotten how you stood before the Great Pack Council, declaring me a lone wolf? How you stripped me of my pack mark and bloodline rights?"
Her voice turned to ice. "Your words still echo in every territory: 'The Silver Creek Pack claims only one daughter.' You made your choice clear that day."
She met his eyes with a gaze as sharp as winter frost. "I am packless, nameless, kinless. By your own decree, I have no family. No sister. No father. Wolves can't reclaim what they've cast away."
