Mira's cottage sat at the edge of pack territory where the manicured grounds gave way to wild forest. It was small, built from weathered stone and dark wood, with smoke curling from the chimney and herbs hanging to dry from the eaves. The kind of place that looked like it had grown from the earth itself rather than been built.
Ashina stood outside the door, her hand raised to knock, and wondered if she really wanted the answers Mira had promised. Before Ashina could knock, the door swung open. Mira stood there, still small and silver-haired, but somehow more formidable in her own space.
"Don't hover on my doorstep like a nervous cat," the old woman said. "Come in. Tea's already brewing."
The cottage interior was exactly what Ashina expected dried herbs hanging from rafters, shelves lined with jars of mysterious substances, a fire crackling in a stone hearth, comfortable furniture worn smooth by decades of use. It smelled like sage and chamomile and something earthy she couldn't identify.
"Sit." Mira gestured to a chair by the fire. "You look like you haven't slept properly in days."
"I haven't." Ashina sank into the chair, suddenly exhausted. "Hard to sleep when your body isn't entirely your own anymore."
"The bond." Mira moved to her small kitchen, pouring tea into two mismatched cups. "It's new, still settling. Give it time eventually you'll adjust to the constant connection."
"I don't want to adjust. I want it gone."
"Can't have everything we want, child." Mira handed her a cup and settled into the opposite chair with a soft groan. "My knees are telling me rain's coming. They're never wrong."
Ashina sipped the tea chamomile with honey and something else, something that eased the constant tension in her shoulders. "You said we needed to talk. About a prophecy."
"Direct. I like that." Mira's eyes grew distant. "The prophecy came to me twenty-eight years ago, the night Kendrick was born. A vision so powerful it knocked me unconscious for three days."
A chill ran down Ashina's spine. "What did you see?"
"The Alpha's mate." Mira's voice took on a rhythmic quality, like reciting something memorized long ago. "A she-wolf who would either save or destroy Moonlit Pack. The vision showed two paths, one where the pack flourished under her guidance, and one where it burned to ash."
Ashina's hands tightened around her cup. "That's why Kendrick was afraid. Why he didn't want to find his mate."
"Wouldn't you be?" Mira asked gently. "Imagine growing up knowing your mate the person fate chose for you might destroy everything you love. That the bond meant to complete you could be your downfall."
"But it's not just about him," Mira continued. "The prophecy spoke of you, child. Of the choice you would make."
"What choice?"
"Whether to embrace your role or reject it. Whether to become the Luna Moonlit Pack needs or the weapon that destroys it." Mira leaned forward. "The prophecy was never about you being good or evil. It was about choice. Your choice."
Ashina laughed bitterly. "That's ironic, considering Kendrick took away my choice."
"Did he?" Mira's eyes were sharp. "Or did he just force the timeline? You were his mate either way. The bond existed whether you accepted it or not. He accelerated the inevitable."
"That's not" Ashina stopped, frustrated. "You sound like you're defending him."
"I'm not defending his methods. What he did was wrong and I told him as much." Mira sipped her tea. "But I am saying that perhaps, in his desperate, misguided way, he was trying to protect everyone. You from heartbreak, the pack from a Luna who might come to them broken and resentful, himself from watching you destroy yourself over a man who didn't deserve you."
"You're saying he violated me to fulfill a prophecy?"
"No." Mira's voice was firm. "I'm saying he violated you because he was terrified and desperate and too damaged to handle finding his mate like a rational person. The prophecy just added weight to fears that already existed."
Ashina stood abruptly, unable to sit still. "Why are you telling me this? What am I supposed to do with this information?"
"Understand." Mira watched her pace. "Understand that you hold power here. Real power. Not just as Luna, but as the fulcrum on which the prophecy balances. You can choose salvation or destruction. You can become what the pack needs or what tears it apart."
"That's a lot of pressure for someone who didn't ask for any of this."
"Yes." Mira's agreement was simple, honest. "It is. But pressure makes diamonds or dust, child. Which you become is up to you."
"Did Kendrick know?" Ashina asked quietly. "When he marked me. Did he know about the two paths?"
"He's known since he was old enough to understand. It's haunted him his entire life." Mira's expression was sad. "That's why he stayed alone for so long. Why he convinced himself he'd never find his mate. It was safer that way for everyone."
"But he found me anyway."
"Fate doesn't care about safe." Mira stood, moving to a shelf and pulling down a worn leather journal. "I've documented every vision about you and Kendrick. Would you like to see?"
Part of Ashina wanted to refuse. Wanted to walk out of this cottage and never think about prophecies or destinies or the weight of choices she never asked to make. But a larger part needed to know. Needed to understand the full picture of what she'd been dragged into.
"Show me."
Mira opened the journal to a page covered in her spidery handwriting. Sketches surrounded the words a wolf with amber eyes, a burning forest, a blooming garden, a woman standing at a crossroads.
"The first path," Mira read, "shows the Luna who accepts her role. Who learns to lead with compassion and strength. Who balances the Alpha's intensity with wisdom. Under her guidance, Moonlit Pack becomes a beacon of hope in the region. Other packs seek alliance. Peace flourishes. The Alpha and his Luna rule together, two halves of a powerful whole."
The words painted a picture Ashina couldn't quite imagine herself as a true Luna, leading beside Kendrick, their bond a source of strength rather than chains.
"The second path," Mira continued, her voice growing heavier, "shows the Luna who rejects her role. Who lets resentment poison her. Who uses her position to undermine rather than build. The pack divides those loyal to the Alpha and those who pity the forced Luna. In the chaos, enemies attack. The pack falls. Kendrick dies defending a mate who never wanted him."
The images on the page showed fire, blood, a black wolf lying still, an amber-eyed woman walking away from ruins.
Ashina's throat tightened. "That's not fair. To put that responsibility on me. To say the pack's fate depends on whether I can forgive being violated."
"You're right. It's not fair." Mira closed the journal. "But fair or not, it's real. Your choices matter, Ashina. What you do with the bond, with your role, with your pain it all matters."
"What if I choose neither path? What if I just exist? Do the minimum, survive, but don't become either savior or destroyer?"
Mira's smile was sad. "That is the second path, child. Passivity becomes destruction when action is needed. A Luna who merely exists rather than leads creates the vacuum where chaos thrives."
Through the bond, Ashina felt Kendrick's anguish. He was sitting in his office, head in his hands, feeling every emotion she experienced and hating himself for creating this situation. For putting her in a position where she had to choose between becoming what the pack needed or watching them fall.
"I hate this," Ashina whispered. "I hate all of it."
"I know." Mira moved to stand beside her, placing a weathered hand on her shoulder. "But hatred is just pain with teeth. The question is what will you do with that pain? Let it consume you and everyone around you? Or transform it into something that serves you?"
"How am I supposed to transform this?" Ashina gestured at her neck, at the mark. "How am I supposed to lead a pack when I'm here against my will?"
"By choosing to be here anyway." Mira's eyes were kind but unyielding. "By deciding that even though the beginning was wrong, the ending doesn't have to be. By claiming the power of your position instead of letting it claim you."
"That feels like giving up. Like admitting he won."
"Or," Mira suggested, "it's taking back control. He forced the bond, yes. But you get to decide what that bond means. What being Luna means. How you use the power you now have." She squeezed Ashina's shoulder. "He gave you a cage, child. But cages have bars that work both ways. You're trapped with him but he's equally trapped with you. And a Luna has more power than you realize."
The words settled into Ashina's mind, turning over slowly. Power. She did have power, didn't she? The pack looked to her now. They needed a Luna. And if she chose to be a good one not for Kendrick, not for the bond, but for herself what could she accomplish?
"I need to think," Ashina said finally.
"Of course." Mira moved toward the door. "But think quickly, child. Destiny has a way of forcing choices when we take too long deciding."
Ashina stood at the threshold, looking back at the old woman. "Why did you tell me all this? You could have let me stay ignorant."
"Because ignorance doesn't serve you." Mira's expression was fierce. "You need to understand what's at stake. Not to pressure you, but to empower you. Knowledge is a weapon, child. How you wield it is up to you."
Ashina stepped out into the afternoon sun, her mind spinning with prophecies, paths and impossible choices. shina walked slowly back toward the manor, her thoughts a tangled mess. The prophecy explained so much kendrick's fear his esperation, his conviction that forcing the bond was necessary.
It didn't excuse it. Nothing excused violation.
But it added context that made her hatred feel less clean, less simple.
She reached the manor and climbed the stairs to her room. Through the window, she could see pack members going about their daily lives. Marcus and Jen, the young couple expecting their first pup. Horace doing security rounds. Lily playing with other young wolves in the meadow.
These people needed a Luna. The pack functioned, yes, but it lacked balance. She'd seen it at dinner—the way disputes arose, the way tensions simmered beneath polite surfaces.
They needed someone to care about more than military strength and territorial defense.
They needed someone to make this place a home, not just a fortress.
Through the bond, she felt Kendrick enter the manor. Felt him pause at the base of the stairs, clearly debating whether to come to her or give her space.
Ashina made the decision for him. She opened the bond slightly—not much, just enough to send a simple feeling: I'm okay. I need time.
His relief was palpable, followed quickly by respect for her boundary and that ever-present guilt.
But underneath it all, something else: hope. Fragile and tentative, but there.
Hope that maybe, just maybe, understanding would begin to bridge the gap between them.
Ashina closed the bond again and lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
Two paths. Salvation or destruction. Luna or weapon.
The choice was hers.
And for the first time since the marking, she felt something other than helpless rage.
She felt power.
The question was what would she do with it?