The night smelled of blood, smoke, and something far worse—betrayal.
I tightened the silk sash around my waist, my hands trembling as I faced the mirror in the Moonstone Pack's ceremonial hall. The silver gown clung to my skin like a second breath, reflecting the harsh torchlight. Tonight was supposed to be the night the Moon Goddess fulfilled her promise.
Tonight, my mate would claim me.
"Seraphina," my mother's voice echoed behind me, sharp and urgent. "Hurry. Alpha Ryker is waiting."
Alpha Ryker.
The name alone sent a wave of excitement—and fear—down my spine. I had loved him in silence for years, a reckless devotion nurtured in stolen glances and impossible dreams. He was the strongest Alpha of our generation, the chosen heir of our pack, the wolf every unmated female wanted. But he was mine—or he would be, once the Moon Goddess made the bond known.
My wolf, Selene, whined nervously in my mind.
Something's wrong, she whispered.
I ignored her. I had to. Tonight was supposed to be perfect.
The hall doors opened, and every head turned as I entered. Warriors, Elders, even the children — all gathered for the sacred Ceremony of Binding. Ryker stood at the far end, towering and golden under the sacred moonstone arch, his black suit clinging to the raw, leashed power of his frame.
For one breathless moment, his eyes—those fierce, glacier-blue eyes—met mine.
And nothing happened.
No pull.
No rush of magic.
No bond snapping into place like it should have.
The room grew deathly silent.
Ryker smirked. A cruel, heartless curve of his lips.
"There is no bond," he said, his voice ringing out, cutting through my chest like a blade. "And even if there was, I would reject you."
Gasps echoed around me. Whispers rose, thick as the mist beginning to coil at my feet.
"I, Ryker Stone, Alpha of Moonstone Pack, reject you, Seraphina Blackthorn, as my mate and Luna," he declared, his words a death sentence.
The bond — or what fragile thread there might have been — shattered into dust inside me.
Pain, raw and vicious, exploded through my veins. I stumbled back, clutching my chest as if I could hold my heart together.
Selene howled in agony, a sound only I could hear.
"Why?" I croaked, my voice breaking like glass.
Ryker chuckled, the sound low and pitiless. "Because you're weak. Because you're nothing but a burden. I need a Luna worthy of my bloodline. Not a broken little orphan who can't even shift properly."
The world blurred. Faces I had called family sneered and turned away.
My mother sobbed, hiding her face. My father—a man who had once called me his 'little warrior'—refused to meet my eyes.
And then the final blow came.
A tall, gorgeous she-wolf with fiery red hair—Celine Ashwood—stepped forward, curling herself against Ryker's side.
He kissed her. Right there. In front of everyone.
"I choose Celine," he said, his arm tightening around her waist. "She will be my Luna."
Something inside me broke.
Not a clean break. A savage, splintering explosion that left nothing but raw, bloody edges behind.
I didn't remember running. Only the savage need to flee, to get away from the disgust, the betrayal, the suffocating pain.
I burst through the hall doors into the night, the cold air slashing against my bare skin. My silver gown snagged on thorns as I tore through the woods, but I didn't stop.
I couldn't.
The wild called to me — dark, primal, and unforgiving.
Run, Selene urged. Run before they destroy us.
And so I ran — until the lights of the pack faded, until the trees closed around me like teeth.
Until I crossed into the Rogue Territories.
The woods shifted around me, alive with whispers and danger. Eyes gleamed in the dark — red, gold, silver — watching, waiting.
A growl rumbled through the trees.
I froze, instinct screaming. A massive wolf, larger than any I had ever seen, emerged from the shadows. His coat was a dark, stormy gray, his eyes burning molten silver.
Rogue.
I backed away slowly, palms raised.
"I don't want trouble," I whispered.
The wolf lunged.
I screamed, shifting too late. Pain wracked my body as Selene tried to emerge, but the shift was incomplete — twisted. I crumpled to the forest floor, helpless.
Teeth snapped inches from my throat.
This is it, I thought numbly. This is how it ends.
But then a new growl — low, furious, and commanding — split the night.
The rogue wolf stiffened, whining and backing away.
Boots crunched through the underbrush.
And then I saw him.
A man — no, a king among wolves — stepped into the clearing.
Dark brownish-gray hair, sharp jawline, lean, brutal strength etched into every line of his body. His eyes were a shade of gray so dark they were almost black, glinting with lethal authority.
Lucian Vale.
The Rogue Alpha.
The enemy of every pack from here to the northern borders.
"You're on my land, little wolf," he said, voice cold as winter. "And you're bleeding."
I tried to speak, to explain, but my throat was raw.
Lucian crouched before me, studying me like a predator sizing up prey. His hand — scarred, strong — brushed my hair back from my face.
Then his nostrils flared.
Recognition lit his gaze.
"Moonstone pack," he murmured. "Ryker's girl."
Anger flashed in my hollowed-out chest.
"Not anymore," I rasped.
Lucian smiled then — a slow, dangerous thing.
"Good," he said. "Because Ryker just threw away the only thing that could have saved him."
Before I could understand what he meant, darkness swallowed me whole.