Two pups sitting side by side, struggling through homework. Saturday evenings spent building sandcastles on the beach until the tide washed them away. Back then, they had no idea those simple days were laying the foundation for a lifetime together.

There had been times when their story seemed to be standing still, as though it would never become anything more.

Now they stood on the other side of that journey.

Silverlord Bernard Crowe. Silverlady Elara Crowe.

She let the names settle in her heart and smiled to herself.

What more could she ask for?

Nothing.

Bernard was everything she had ever wanted. Every title, every blessing, and every gift that came afterward meant little compared to the man holding her in his arms. He had always been the greatest gift of all.

“Silverheart, you are the best thing that happened to me,” Bernard moaned as he continued kissing her whole body. She wished she could tell him she felt more than the same towards him. If there’s anything stronger than love, then that’s what she felt for him. Her mind drifted off again as he rubbed her back and transcended to her ass, massaging it softly.

“Silverheart you are not here,” Bernard moaned. “What is it?” He asked. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“All those winters we spent playing hide-and-seek. All those winters I wanted you but couldn’t tell you. Every smile I wore… every time I held my head high… it was all an act.”

She let out a quiet laugh, but it faded before it reached her eyes.

“No one knew.”

Her fingers traced slow circles across the water.

“Every day, people saw me smiling. They laughed with me, celebrated with me, and called me the cheerful Moon Princess, the lucky one.”

She looked up at Bernard.

“They never saw what happened after I was alone. They never saw me cry myself to sleep or wonder if you’d ever look at me the way I looked at you.”

A faint smile touched her lips.

“Then everything changed the day Emma became my sibling’s mate.”

She slipped her hand into his.

“That was the first time I allowed myself to believe that maybe… just maybe… the Moon Goddess hadn’t forgotten about us after all.”

“It’s okay,” he said and let his hands skim her hip, whilst one played with her lips. He slowly moved from her lip to her boobs.

“Alright,” she moaned. Bernard moved closer and raised one of her legs slightly as he kissed her passionately. Slowly, his finger began to tease her clits. She moaned loudly, from one finger, he increased it to two and whilst his fingers fùcked her, he rubbed her clit, she threw her head back and moaned more shutting her eyes, his mouth came down on her boobs and began to perform wonders.

Bernard lifted her whole body and walked out of the bathtub. He lowered her wet body onto the soft bed. She tried to talk, but Bernard placed an index finger on her lips. She swallowed back her words.

He pinned her on the bed and buried his tongue in her womanly center. His tongue fùcked her to the end of the world and back. She was begging him not to stop and he didn’t stop. Her legs were vibrating, her teeth gnashing as the pleasure traveled from her spine to her brain. Bernard took her to another level of ecstasy and she came up with a bang. He then lifted her slowly and plunged in. Once he drove himself in, he assured her of his love again and started the slow movement, stroke after stroke, making her moan softly as she waited for him to pump in his seed. He kept giving her that flirty look and a cute smile that made her weak.

“You are beautiful,” Bernard whispered, a smile spreading across his face. His fingertips brushed a damp strand of hair away from her cheek. “I’m so happy you’re mine.”

Elara looked into his eyes and reached for his hand.

“Honey… stay with me,” she murmured softly.

“I’m here, Silverheart.” His voice cracked as he tightened his hold on her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She blinked, then frowned.

A warm tear landed on her cheek.

She looked up and found his eyes glistening. Another tear slipped down his face before she gently brushed it away with her thumb.

“What is it?” she asked quietly.

He laughed under his breath and shook his head.

“I’m just… happy.” His smile returned through the tears. “We’re finally mates.”

She smiled back, her own eyes growing misty. She rested her forehead against his, and neither of them spoke again. They had waited for this moment for so long that words could no longer carry what they felt.

For Bernard and Elara, becoming mates had always been the dream.

They thought the journey ended there.

They were wrong.

The Moon Goddess had already written the next Chapter of their lives.

The day Princess Elara Frostbane became Silverlady Elara Crowe marked the beginning of something far greater than a royal matebond.

The Crowe family had carried a secret for generations, hidden so deeply that no one imagined it still existed.

When the truth finally came to light, it would change the kingdom forever.

—

Meanwhile, Lunara Greens sat on the floor of her bedchamber, her eyes fixed on the vision hearth. Every national channel was broadcasting Bernard and Elara’s royal matebond ceremony live.

Tears blurred her vision as laughter, music, and joyful cheers filled the chamber. She watched in silence, unable to stop wondering how the beautiful life she once had had slipped through her fingers so quickly.

Before she realized it, her thoughts carried her back to December 30th—the day Emma and Brandon celebrated their own special union.

The memories came rushing back so vividly that it felt as though she were standing there all over again, reliving every moment.

Lunara’s fingers tightened around the edge of the bed as Emma appeared on the screen in her breathtaking royal mating gown.

“That was supposed to be me,” she whispered.

Her voice grew louder with every word.

“That was supposed to be my life! If I’d known… I never would’ve thrown Emma out. If I’d known, I never would’ve posted her picture on the Howling Site!”

She grabbed the nearest vase and hurled it across the chamber. It shattered against the wall. Another followed. Then a lamp. The chamber echoed with breaking glass as sobs tore through her chest.

For six winters, she had dreamed of this day. She had planned every detail, imagined every smile, every cheer, every step she would take beside the future king. Now she could only watch another woman live the life she believed should have been hers.

She dropped to her knees, crying until her throat burned.

Then she suddenly sprang to her feet and rushed out of the chamber.

“Where is it?” she muttered, yanking open drawers. “Where did he keep it?”

She searched every cabinet, every shelf, every corner of the house, looking for her father’s revolver.

What was left for her now?

She had no Moonallies anymore. She couldn’t even step outside without people glaring at her like she was a murderer. Most days, she stayed locked inside while Emma stocked her cookhouse with groceries because she could no longer shop in peace.

Emma.

The same woman she had tried to ruin. The same woman she had tried to kill. The same woman whose place she had wanted to steal.

A bitter laugh escaped her.

Just a few days ago, after Emma returned from her honeymoon, she had given her a brand-new car. She had driven it to a nearby store, hoping no one would notice her.

Instead, people stopped and stared.

Some pointed at her.

Others whispered.

One woman spat on the ground as she walked past.

Even with dark glasses covering most of her face, they still knew who she was.

By the next moonrise, her picture had spread across news outlets, blogs, and every major social media platform. There was nowhere left to hide.

She yanked open one drawer after another, her breathing growing heavier each time she found nothing. Clothes, old documents, empty boxes. She pushed everything aside with shaking hands, then slammed another drawer shut hard enough to rattle the chamber.

“Tell me why I should keep living,” she whispered to herself. “I know I made mistakes, but am I the first person to ever make one?”

She let out a bitter laugh and wiped at her face with the back of her hand.

“Emma was right. People do horrible things behind closed doors every single day. They lie, they cheat, they betray each other, yet they still walk around with their heads held high. So why am I the one everyone treats like a monster? Why do they look at me like I don’t deserve to live?”

She stood there for a moment before walking into the visitors’ chamber. Her eyes swept across the chamber until they landed on a wooden drawer tucked beneath a side table. She pulled it open, and there it was.

Her father’s revolver.

She reached for it slowly and lifted it into her hands. The metal felt cold against her skin. After checking it, she realized it was fully loaded. Her fingers tightened around the grip as she slowly raised the gun.

Before she could press it against her head, her eyes wandered to the shelf across the chamber.

Her mother’s ashes.

She stared at the urn, and the gun stopped halfway. Her lips trembled as tears gathered in her eyes.

“If I die…” she murmured, barely able to get the words out, “…who’s going to scatter your ashes in Grandma’s garden?”

She couldn’t look away.

The chamber grew so quiet that she could hear her own breathing. Tears rolled down her cheeks one after another while the gun rested against her temple. She remained frozen in place, staring at the urn as memories of her mother flooded her mind.

One minute passed, then another. Nearly four minutes went by, yet she still hadn’t pulled the trigger.

Then a man’s voice broke the silence.

“I came to borrow the gun. I’m so heartbroken right now.”