The Enemy Takes The Impostor

Blood ran down the false Luna's throat.

Only one line.

Thin. Dark. Almost delicate.

But everyone saw it.

The hall froze with me still gripping Dacre Vale's hand and Kael still standing in front of the woman wearing my life.

The false Liora pressed her fingers to the stolen mark.

They came away red.

"Kael," she whispered.

Naturally, she used my voice like that.

Small.

Afraid.

The voice I used only when I was too tired to pretend I was fine.

Kael moved toward her.

Not toward me.

Something in me stopped waiting.

"Seal the doors," Kael ordered.

Moonridge guards rushed to obey. Bolts slammed into place. Steel rang as men drew blades they should have drawn three nights ago when someone was cutting me open.

Dacre did not let go of my hand.

"Interesting," he said.

Kael's eyes flashed silver. "You will not leave my hall with a prisoner."

"Prisoner?" Dacre looked at me. "I thought she was a nameless impostor."

A few nobles shifted.

Good.

Let them hear it.

Let them choke on their own words.

Kael's jaw tightened. "She attacked my Luna."

"Your Luna is bleeding from a mark she stole."

The false Liora gave a sharp little cry and covered her throat.

Every man near her looked guilty for seeing blood.

No one had looked guilty when mine was soaking through my cloak.

I hated them all so much I could stand straighter.

An elder stepped forward. "Alpha Vale, Moonridge law gives you no right to interfere."

Dacre did not even glance at him. "Moonridge law also failed to notice two Lioras in one room."

The elder flushed.

Dacre looked at the locked doors. "Your law seems tired."

The guards around us tightened their circle.

One grabbed my arm.

Dacre moved so fast I barely saw the knife.

The guard's hand stopped an inch from my sleeve, pinned by the flat of Dacre's blade against his wrist.

"Ask," Dacre said.

The guard swallowed. "What?"

"Before touching her."

Kael snarled, "She is on my ground."

Dacre's eyes stayed on the guard. "And still not furniture."

The guard lowered his hand.

Dacre sheathed the knife.

My whole body shook once.

Not from fear.

From the shock of someone making a rule around me and meaning it.

Kael saw the shake.

For one second, his expression changed.

The bond between us moved like something trapped under ice.

"Liora?" he said.

My heart betrayed me.

It jumped.

The false Liora cried out again.

Blood spilled faster from her hidden mark.

Kael turned away from me.

Again.

He caught her before she fell, one arm around her waist, the other hand pressed to her bleeding throat.

The bond went cold.

Dacre leaned close. "Do you still want to wait for him?"

The question was cruel.

It was also fair.

I looked at Kael holding her.

At my ring on her hand.

At my pearl combs in her hair.

At my pack watching me like I was a dirty problem someone else should remove.

"No," I said.

The word came out rough, but it came out mine.

Dacre nodded once.

Then he turned toward the doors.

His Ironwood wolves moved with him.

They did not draw first.

They simply took positions that made every Moonridge guard realize drawing second might be the last decision of his life.

The High Priest lifted both hands. "If you cross that threshold with her, Moonridge will call it abduction."

Dacre smiled over his shoulder. "Call it whatever helps you sleep beside your stolen Luna."

Several nobles gasped.

Mira's eyes flashed.

There she was.

Not weak.

Not frightened.

Angry.

She hid it quickly, but I saw.

So did Dacre.

Kael stepped away from her at last. "Liora."

Both of us turned.

Me.

And the woman wearing me.

The hall noticed.

Kael noticed too late.

His face drained.

The false Liora whispered, "Alpha?"

Dacre's mouth curved. "Difficult name, is it?"

Kael ignored him and looked at me. Really looked.

For one terrible second, I let myself hope again.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Hope died ugly.

I laughed once.

It sounded broken.

"Ask your Luna," I said.

Mira's fingers dug into Kael's sleeve.

Dacre led me toward the doors.

The bolts did not open.

Moonridge guards stood firm this time.

One of them pointed a spear at Dacre's chest.

"By order of Alpha Thorne, no one leaves."

Dacre looked almost pleased.

"Finally."

He did not lift his blade.

He lifted his voice.

"Ironwood invokes hostile witness passage."

The room went quiet.

The elder went pale.

I did not understand the words, but Moonridge did. The guards nearest the doors hesitated.

Dacre continued, "You invited Ironwood as hostile delegation. I found evidence of identity theft during a public rite. If you detain my witness, you detain Ironwood law."

Kael's face hardened. "You are twisting ceremony."

"You twisted a woman."

For the first time, the whole hall understood him.

No one breathed.

The bolts slid open.

Not by kindness.

By fear.

Rain waited outside like a slap.

Dacre guided me through the doors.

No one stopped him.

At the threshold, I made the mistake of looking back.

Kael stood with one hand still stained by Mira's blood.

He looked afraid.

Not enough to follow.

Never enough.

Leaving stopped feeling like being taken.

My own pack had opened the door for the enemy because it was easier than opening its eyes for me.

Outside, cold rain hit my face. I almost welcomed it. It washed some of the hall's perfume out of my nose.

Black Ironwood carriages waited beyond the moon gate.

I stumbled halfway down the steps.

One Ironwood wolf reached for me.

Dacre growled.

The wolf stopped.

"No one touches her without asking," Dacre said.

I looked at him through wet hair. "But you can?"

His eyes met mine. "I offered."

It was not tenderness.

It was better than being dragged.

He opened the carriage door.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Somewhere Moonridge cannot call you imaginary and lock the door."

My hand went to the bandage under my ribs.

Something beneath it burned.

Not the wound.

Deeper.

Dacre noticed.

His face changed.

"What?" I asked.

He stepped close enough that the rain could not hide his answer.

"The mark is bleeding on her," he said. "But the root is still in you."

The burn sharpened until I gripped the carriage door.

"Meaning?"

Dacre looked back at Moonridge Hall.

His voice dropped.

"Meaning if she completes the rite, she becomes you."

His eyes returned to mine.

"And whatever is left of Liora Venn dies."

The carriage waited behind me.

Moonridge waited in front of me.

For the first time all night, the enemy was the safer door.