The walk back to the Silver Moon pack house felt different. Usually, I moved through these woods like a ghost, trying not to be noticed, trying to avoid the heavy hands of the warriors or the sharp tongue of my sister. But with Malachi walking beside me, the forest felt like it belonged to us. The very shadows seemed to move out of his way.
"You're thinking about him," Malachi's voice rumbled, pulling me from my thoughts. He didn't look at me, but I felt his awareness focused entirely on my heartbeat.
"I'm thinking about how much I've lost," I admitted, my voice steady despite the adrenaline. "And how much I'm about to face. They won't just let me walk back in, Malachi. Not after the rejection."
Malachi stopped, his hand catching my shoulder. His touch was warm, a stark contrast to the icy fear that had lived in my bones for years. "They aren't facing the girl they threw away, Elara. They are facing a Lycan's Mate. My power is yours now. If they growl at you, I will pull their tongues from their throats."
It was a violent promise, but for the first time in my life, it didn't scare me. It felt like justice.
As we reached the edge of the pack's clearing, the sounds of the celebration hit us the rhythmic beating of drums, the smell of roasting meat, and the sickeningly sweet scent of the pack's "New Luna" perfume. Tanya's favorite.
We stepped into the light of the torches.
The music didn't stop all at once. It faltered, chapter by chapter, as people noticed the muddy, blood-stained girl walking back from the Forbidden Forest. But when they saw the man beside me, the silence became absolute. It was a silence born of pure, primal terror.
Malachi didn't hide his aura. He let it bleed out, a suffocating weight of ancient power that forced the lower-ranking wolves to drop to their knees immediately.
"Elara?"
The voice belonged to Silas. He was standing on the porch of the pack house, his arm wrapped around Tanya's waist. He looked flushed from the ceremony, his golden hair mussed. But as his eyes landed on me and then on Malachi the color drained from his face until he looked like a corpse.
"What is the meaning of this?" my father, Alpha Vance, demanded, stepping forward with his chest puffed out. He was trying to act like a leader, but his knees were visibly shaking. "Elara! You were exiled! And who is this... this trespasser?"
Malachi didn't answer. He didn't even look at my father. He just kept his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the porch.
"I came for my things," I said, my voice ringing out across the silent crowd. I was shocked by how clear I sounded. "And to say goodbye."
Tanya let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh, clutching Silas's arm tighter. "Your things? You have nothing, Elara. You're an Omega. Everything you own was given to you by the charity of this pack. Now leave before Silas has the warriors execute you for trespassing!"
Silas didn't speak. He was staring at my neck.
Even from the distance, the mark Malachi had left was glowing with a faint, violet light. It pulsed in time with my heart, a brand of ownership that made Silas's rejection scar look like a child's scratch.
"Silas?" Tanya hissed, shaking his arm. "Tell them to leave!"
"She..." Silas whispered, his voice cracking. "She's been marked."
"What?" My father stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "That's impossible. No one was in the forest. She was rejected! The Goddess would not grant another bond so quickly."
"The Goddess didn't grant this," Malachi finally spoke. The sound of his voice was like a physical blow. Several wolves in the front row actually winced. "I did."
Malachi stepped forward, moving with a speed that was impossible to follow. One moment he was beside me, and the next, he was standing at the base of the porch, looking up at Silas and Tanya.
"You are Silas Thorne?" Malachi asked, his tone almost conversational, though his eyes were twin pits of violet fire.
Silas swallowed hard, his Alpha pride warring with his instinct to flee. "I am the future Alpha of this pack. Who are you to enter my lands?"
"Lands?" Malachi tilted his head. "These lands were carved out by my ancestors while yours were still licking the dirt for scraps. You are a pup playing in a King's garden."
"You... you're a Lycan," my father gasped, his eyes wide with horror. He fell to his knees, his forehead touching the grass. "Great King... we did not know. We did not mean to offend."
"Get up, Father!" Tanya screamed, her face contorted with rage and jealousy. "He's just one man! Silas, do something!"
Silas, driven by his mate's scream and his own bruised ego, let out a roar. He shifted, his body contorting into a large, golden wolf. He lunged from the porch, claws out, aiming straight for Malachi's throat.
It happened so fast.
Malachi didn't even shift. He simply reached out and caught the two-hundred-pound wolf by the throat mid-air. The sound of Silas's windpipe being squeezed rang out in the silence.
Malachi held the Alpha aloft as if he weighed nothing. Silas thrashed, his paws kicking uselessly at the air, his golden fur bristling with fear.
"Silas!" Tanya shrieked, rushing to the edge of the porch.
"Stop," I commanded.
Everyone looked at me. My voice had a new layer to it a resonance that felt like the hum of a hive. It was the voice of a Luna. No, higher than a Luna.
Malachi looked back at me, a question in his eyes. He was ready to snap Silas's neck right there.
"Don't kill him," I said, walking toward them. I stood right in front of the struggling, choking wolf that had been my world only hours ago. "He isn't worth the blood on your hands, Malachi."
I looked Silas in his golden wolf eyes. I saw the terror there, but I also saw something else: regret. The bond was broken, but the "Rejection Curse" was already starting. Without me, his pack would lose its fertility, its luck, its strength. He was realizing it too late.
"You rejected me because you thought I was weak," I whispered to him. "You chose a 'strong' Luna because you were afraid an Omega would hold you back."
I reached out and touched the glowing mark on my neck.
"I am the mate of the High King now, Silas. While you rule this small patch of dirt, I will be ruling the world. Thank you for rejecting me. You gave me the keys to a kingdom you aren't even allowed to enter."
Malachi tossed Silas aside like a piece of unwanted trash. The golden wolf tumbled across the grass, whimpering as he shifted back into a naked, bruised human form.
Tanya ran to him, but she didn't look at him with love. She looked at me with a hatred so pure it was almost beautiful.
"You'll pay for this, Elara!" she screamed. "The Council won't allow a Lycan to interfere in pack business! You're a traitor!"
"Let them come," Malachi said, stepping back to my side and wrapping a possessive arm around my waist. "I haven't had a good war in a century."
He looked down at me, his gaze softening just for a second. "Are you ready to leave this place?"
I looked at the pack house, at my father who wouldn't look me in the eye, and at the sister who had made my life hell. I felt the White Wolf inside me stir, a cold, powerful presence that was ready to run.
"Yes," I said. "Let's go home."
But as we turned to leave, a high-pitched whistle pierced the air. A silver arrow hissed through the darkness, thudding into the tree inches from Malachi's head.
From the shadows of the surrounding woods, dozens of hunters in silver-lined armor emerged.
"The King doesn't leave tonight," a cold, female voice rang out from the tree line.
I turned to see a woman in a professor's cloak it was Professor Lang, the board member from the University. But she wasn't holding a book; she was holding a silver crossbow.
"The University Board has many interests, Malachi," she said, her ey
es fixed on me. "And the White Wolf belongs to us."