THE LYCAN KING’S MOONBORN QUEEN

My alarm had been ringing for so long that I was beginning to believe it had developed a personal hatred for me.

I could hear it vibrating somewhere beneath my pillow, muffled by the blanket I had pulled over my head sometime during the night. The irritating sound continued without mercy, dragging me reluctantly from the warm darkness of sleep and forcing me to acknowledge the existence of another morning.

I groaned and stretched one arm from beneath the blanket, searching blindly across my bedside table until my fingers finally found my phone.

I slapped the screen.

The alarm stopped.

For a moment, the room returned to silence.

I smiled beneath my blanket.

Then my bedroom door opened.

“Vaelyra.”

I pretended not to hear her.

“Vaelyra Duskfang.”

Still nothing.

My roommate sighed heavily.

“You have exactly twenty minutes before your first lecture.”

My eyes opened.

I immediately sat upright.

“What?”

Ellyra was standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest, wearing a pair of loose grey trousers and an oversized university sweatshirt. Her expression carried the kind of disappointment usually reserved for people who had committed serious crimes.

I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and stared at the time.

7:08 a.m.

My lecture began at 8:00.

“Oh, Moon Goddess.”

“You have been saying that for three years every time you oversleep,” Ellyra said. “One day you are going to learn that the Moon Goddess is not responsible for your inability to get out of bed.”

“I did not oversleep.”

“You did.”

“I was resting.”

“You were unconscious.”

“There is a difference.”

Ellyra shook her head.

“Get up.”

I threw the blanket aside and hurried out of bed.

My room was still slightly dark because I had forgotten to open the curtains the previous evening. Sunlight pushed through the narrow gaps between them, casting thin golden lines across the floor.

My university timetable was pinned above my desk, surrounded by handwritten reminders, examination dates, clinical schedules and small notes I had written to myself whenever I remembered something important at an unreasonable hour.

There were textbooks stacked beside my laptop, medical journals scattered across the desk, several anatomy flashcards tucked underneath my lamp and a half finished cup of tea that I had completely forgotten about.

This room was not particularly impressive.

It was not luxurious.

It did not have expensive furniture or designer decorations.

But it was mine.

It was where I had spent countless nights studying until my eyes burned, where I had celebrated good examination results with Ellyra, where I had cried after failing a practical assessment during my second year, and where I had spent more hours than I could count imagining the future I wanted.

A hospital.

A surgical theatre.

A white coat.

A life built by my own hands.

That was the future I wanted.

I wanted to become a surgeon.

Not because anyone had forced me into medicine.

Not because my family expected it.

Not because being a doctor would give me status within the supernatural community.

I simply wanted it.

There was something about medicine that had always fascinated me. The human body was complicated, fragile and astonishingly resilient. A surgeon could stand between a person and death and sometimes, with knowledge, precision and steady hands, change the outcome.

That was the kind of power I respected.

Not the power to command a pack.

Not the power to make hundreds of wolves kneel.

Not the power that came from having a title.

I wanted the kind of power that came from saving someone’s life.

“Vaelyra!”

“I am coming!”

“You said that while you were still standing in your bedroom.”

“I am coming now.”

I grabbed my towel and hurried towards the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, I emerged wearing dark trousers, a cream blouse and my clinical coat folded carefully over one arm. My hair was pulled into a neat ponytail because there was no chance I had enough time to do anything complicated with it.

Ellyra was sitting at the small dining table, eating toast while scrolling through her phone.

She looked up.

“Finally.”

“I am ready.”

“You are missing something.”

I looked down at myself.

“My shoes?”

“They are on your feet.”

“My bag?”

“Behind you.”

“My phone?”

“In your hand.”

I stared at her.

“What am I missing?”

“Breakfast.”

I looked at the plate she had placed on the table.

There were eggs, toast and sliced fruit.

“I do not have time.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I am always running late.”

“That is not a reason to skip breakfast. That is a reason to stop running late.”

I picked up a piece of toast.

“There. I am eating.”

“That is one bite.”

“It is a large bite.”

“It is toast, Vaelyra.”

I laughed and took another bite.

Ellyra watched me suspiciously before returning her attention to her phone.

“Your mother called last night.”

I swallowed.

“What did she want?”

“She said you have not called her properly in four days.”

“I spoke to her on Monday.”

“Today is Thursday.”

“That was three days ago.”

“She considers three days an entire season.”

I smiled.

That sounded exactly like my mother.

My family was not the sort that believed distance should prevent constant communication. Even though I lived at university, my mother still wanted to know whether I had eaten, whether I had slept properly, whether I was attending lectures, whether I had enough money and whether anyone had upset me.

My father was quieter, but he had his own way of worrying.

My brothers were worse.

My eldest brother, Rhaevan, worked at the Alpha’s company and seemed to believe his unofficial responsibility was to remind me that university was not an excuse to forget that I had a family.

My immediate older brother, Kaevor, had recently completed university and was now away attending a one year criminology course after studying crime and law. He had always been fascinated by investigations, evidence and the reasons people committed crimes. Even when we were children, he could turn a missing biscuit into a full criminal investigation.

I loved them all.

Even when they were annoying.

Especially when they were annoying.

I picked up my backpack.

“I will call Mum after my clinical training.”

“You had better.”

“I will.”

“And your father.”

“I know.”

“And Rhaevan.”

“I know.”

“And Kaevor.”

“Ellyra.”

She smiled.

“I just wanted to make sure.”

I slipped my phone into my pocket.

“I will call them.”

I reached for the door.

“Vaelyra.”

I turned.

Ellyra’s expression had changed.

“Did you sleep well?”

The question caught me off guard.

“Yes.”

She stared at me for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You were talking again.”

I frowned.

“Talking about what?”

“I could not understand most of it.”

I stepped closer.

“What did I say?”

Ellyra hesitated.

“You kept saying something about the moon.”

I felt an odd sensation move through my chest.

“The moon?”

She nodded.

“You also said someone’s name.”

“What name?”

“I could not make it out.”

She shrugged.

“Maybe it was just another strange dream.”

I forced a smile.

“Probably.”

She continued watching me.

I opened the door.

“I have to go.”

“Try not to fail your anatomy lecture because you were dreaming about the moon.”

“I am not going to fail.”

“You said that before your last practical.”

“And I passed.”

“Barely.”

“I passed.”

She laughed.

I stepped into the corridor.

“See you tonight.”

“Try to remember that food exists.”

“I will.”