The air at the peak of the Silver Moon Mountain was thin and biting, but I didn't feel the cold. My skin was flushed, radiating a feverish heat that pulsed in sync with the full moon hanging directly above us. Today was my eighteenth birthday. Today, the Great Goddess would unlock the beast within me, and more importantly, she would reveal the one whose soul was woven with mine.
I stood in the center of the Sacred Altar, surrounded by hundreds of pack members. Their eyes were expectant, though not all were kind. As the daughter of the late General Miller, a hero who had died protecting our borders, expectations were suffocatingly high.
"Relax, Skaya," a deep, velvety voice whispered, sending a shiver of electricity down my spine.
I turned my head to see Kaelen Vancour standing just outside the ritual circle. He was breathtaking—the future Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack. His jaw was chiseled, his eyes a piercing stormy gray, and his presence was so dominant it seemed to bend the shadows to his will. I had loved him in secret for years, nursing a hope that the Moon Goddess would be kind enough to make us mates.
The High Priest stepped forward, raising his staff. "The moon is at its zenith! Skaya Miller, step into the light and embrace your destiny. Shift!"
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I reached inward, searching for that spark of wildness, that primal roar of the wolf. I waited for the agonizing but glorious sound of bones breaking and reforming. I waited for the fur to sprout and my senses to explode.
One minute passed. Then two.
Silence.
I felt nothing but the cool night breeze on my skin. No fur. No claws. No wolf.
A murmur rippled through the crowd like a poisonous tide. I opened my eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I... I can't find her," I whispered, my voice trembling. "She's not waking up."
"A Null?" someone shouted from the back. "The General's daughter is a wolf-less freak?"
The whispers turned into mocking laughter. I looked at Kaelen, pleading for a sign of support, but his expression had shifted. The warmth I thought I saw earlier had vanished, replaced by a chilling, razor-sharp disdain.
The High Priest sighed, his eyes full of pity. "If there is no wolf, there can be no—"
He stopped mid-sentence as Kaelen suddenly growled, a sound so powerful it forced the nearest wolves to their knees. Kaelen stepped into the circle, his scent—sandalwood and rain—hitting me like a physical blow. The sparks between us were violent now, a magnetic pull so strong it made my teeth ache.
Mate. My heart leaped. Even without a wolf, the bond was there. The Moon Goddess had chosen him for me.
"Kaelen," I gasped, reaching out to touch his arm. "The bond... you feel it too, don't you?"
Kaelen flinched as if my touch were acid. He gripped my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin with bruising force. He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear, but his words were ice.
"I feel it, Skaya. And it is the greatest insult I have ever endured."
He shoved me back, making me stumble onto the hard stone of the altar. He turned to face the pack, his voice booming with Alpha authority, amplified by the sacred ground.
"A Luna is the heart of the pack. She is the mother of warriors, the protector of the weak. She must be a wolf of silver and steel," Kaelen proclaimed, his eyes glowing a predatory gold. He looked down at me as if I were a stain on his polished boots. "The Silver Moon Pack cannot be led by a human masquerading as one of us. I refuse to let my bloodline be tainted by such weakness."
"Kaelen, please," I begged, tears finally spilling over. "The bond is sacred. You can't just throw it away!"
"Watch me," he hissed.
He stood tall, raising his hand toward the moon, invoking the ancient laws of our kind. The air grew heavy, the atmosphere thick with the smell of ozone. I felt a sudden, sharp tug in my chest—the invisible tether of the mate bond tightening until it began to fray.
"I, Kaelen Vancour, Alpha Heir of the Silver Moon Pack, hereby exercise my divine right," he shouted, his voice echoing across the valley. "I reject you, Skaya Miller, as my Mate and my Luna. I sever the bond. I cast you out!"
SNAP.
The sound wasn't physical, but it echoed in my brain like a thunderclap. A scream of pure, unadulterated agony tore from my throat as my soul was ripped in half. It felt like someone had reached into my chest, grabbed my heart, and shredded it with glowing coals.
The 'Mate Bond'—the most beautiful gift of the Goddess—was now a jagged wound. I collapsed, coughing up blood that splattered across the white marble.
Through the haze of pain and the ringing in my ears, I saw Kaelen turn away. He didn't even look back as he walked toward Lira, my long-time rival. He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and kissed her deeply, claiming her in the very spot where I was supposed to be crowned.
The crowd cheered. My father's old friends turned their backs. My pack—my family—disappeared into a blur of betrayal.
Two guards grabbed my arms, dragging me toward the edge of the territory, toward the Blackwood Forest—a place where even seasoned warriors feared to tread. They threw me into the dirt at the border, the thorns of the undergrowth tearing at my dress.
"Don't come back, Null," one guard spat. "The Alpha's orders are clear. If you're seen on our lands after sunrise, it's an execution."
I lay there in the mud, my body broken and my spirit shattered. The rejection was supposed to kill a wolf-less girl. I could feel my heartbeat slowing, the cold of the forest seeping into my marrow.
But then, something happened.
Deep within the void where my wolf should have been, a spark ignited. It wasn't the warm glow of a normal werewolf. It was a cold, silver flame—ancient, terrifying, and hungry. My blood began to boil, and a voice that sounded like grinding tectonic plates echoed in the back of my mind.
'Let them celebrate, Little Flame,' the voice whispered. 'For when we return, they will learn that some bonds are broken only to unleash a monster.'
I forced myself to stand, my eyes flashing a color that no wolf in the Silver Moon Pack had ever seen. I looked back at the lights of the village, my voice a raspy promise of death.
"Kaelen Vancour," I whispered into the wind, "I hope you enjoy your throne while it still stands."