Serena Blythewood

Sera Hudson, last heir of the fallen House Hudson, infiltrates the heart of Fenris Keep disguised as a battlefield physician, bent on avenging her family’s massacre by killing Cain Elvis—the legendary “Crimson Moon Blade” Alpha. When her poisoned scalpel fails, she becomes Cain’s reluctant prisoner and is bound to him by the forbidden Vow-Blood Rite, forging a psychic link that shares every wound, memory, and heartbeat. Forced into his war council as a strategist, Sera discovers the price of vengeance is far deeper than she ever imagined.

As they plan battles against human fortresses and survive ambushes, Sera senses hidden truths in Cain’s scars and haunted past. Torn between the Assassin League’s demands and her growing empathy for the Alpha she vowed to kill, she uncovers a century-old conspiracy: her own father and the human king orchestrated her people’s slaughter. Branded a traitor, Sera risks everything to expose the lie beneath the war.

Their flight as fugitives leads them to the Wolf Council, where betrayal erupts into violence. In a final gambit at Dawn Gorge, Sera detonates an inferno that shatters the League’s power—and nearly destroys the psychic bond that saved them both. Five years later, as the “White Raven” envoy, Sera returns to Fenris, her scar a testament to sacrifice and hope. Reunited under a blooming moonlily garden, she and Cain renew their oath—no longer bound by blood, but by a shared promise to heal two nations that once bled for lies.

Vow of the Blood-Moon

Dawn broke gray and cold over the jagged peaks as Sera Hudson and Cain Elvis slipped through the narrow mouth of a smuggler’s tunnel. Icicles dripped from the low ceiling, and the air smelled of damp stone and old smoke. Behind them, ten loyal wolf-guard covered their retreat: silent shadows in wolf-hide cloaks, flanking the fugitives on both sides.


“Are you warm enough?” Cain asked, voice low beneath his hooded cloak. His gauntleted hand brushed hers—an almost-habit born of their bond.


Sera tugged her fur-lined cloak tighter. “Barely.” Her silver-thread bindings pulsed faintly, echoing his pulse’s steady beat. “These tunnels run deeper than I expected.”


Cain’s golden eyes gleamed in the torchlight. “Good for concealment.” He peered ahead: rough-hewn walls, slick with frost, sloping deeper into the mountain. “We should reach the witness hideout within an hour.”


Chapter 13 – Snowbound Fugitives