I was born with no wolf at all — no shift, no silver, nothing but a cry the court called proof our line was dying. Three days later they murdered my mother and called my powerlessness the reason. A guard I never knew smuggled me out in a laundry cart before the assassins finished the job.Twenty years I lived as no one. The wolf everyone swore I’d never have slept quiet beneath my skin, waiting.It woke three months ago, and not gently.I am the last living Duskmoon. My uncle butchered my mother to steal a throne he’s spent two decades warping into something crueler than she ever allowed. Every law he’s written since punishes wolves like the girl I used to be — voiceless, disposable.I’m done being disposable.I’m coming home with silver in my blood and my mother’s murder in my teeth. When I’m finished, there won’t be a law left standing that was built to keep someone like me small.They’ll call me the Luna Queen. They should fear what I plan to do with the crown.