Celeste barely slept.
By the time the first light of dawn crept through her window, she was already awake, lying still beneath the sheets, staring at the ceiling. The weight of last night pressed down on her chest, heavy and unshakable.
She had spent months ignoring the whispers, pretending they didn't matter. But now, they weren't just whispers. They were taking root, growing into something stronger, something dangerous.
And Kieran was letting it happen.
A sharp knock at the door made her sit up. "Come in."
The door opened, and a young omega, Mira, stepped inside, her expression tight. She hesitated before saying, "Alpha Kieran asked for you."
Celeste's heart skipped. He hadn't spoken to her much over the last few days. Maybe this was his way of making things right.
She got dressed quickly, ignoring the nervous energy twisting in her gut. When she stepped outside, the packhouse was already alive with movement—warriors training in the clearing, omegas carrying baskets of supplies, and groups of wolves murmuring to one another.
She felt the stares before she saw them.
Wolves watching her, some with poorly hidden smirks, others with calculating eyes.
Her steps faltered for just a second before she forced herself to keep walking.
Kieran was waiting in the center of the training grounds, surrounded by a few high-ranking wolves. Rowan stood beside him, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Celeste inhaled deeply and approached. "You wanted to see me?"
Kieran turned, his gaze sweeping over her. "You haven't been training much lately."
Celeste frowned. "I train every morning."
"Not with the others," he corrected, nodding toward the warriors sparring in the clearing.
Her stomach tightened. There was a reason she trained alone. The last time she had joined the warriors, they had made it clear she wasn't welcome—little comments, subtle shoves, "accidental" hits that were just a bit too hard.
But Kieran knew that.
"I want you to spar today," he said, his tone neutral. "With Marcus."
Celeste's fingers curled at her sides. Marcus. The pack's lead warrior, one of Kieran's closest friends—and one of her most vocal critics.
She forced herself to meet Kieran's gaze. "Why?"
"You need to prove you belong here," he said simply.
A slow, cold disbelief spread through her veins. Prove?
A few of the warriors nearby chuckled under their breath.
Celeste swallowed the burn in her throat and squared her shoulders. "Fine."
Kieran nodded toward Marcus. "Begin."
Marcus grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Don't take it personally, Luna."
Celeste took her stance.
Then he lunged.
His first strike was fast—too fast. A real hit, not a test. Celeste barely dodged in time, her heart pounding. He wasn't holding back.
The second blow landed against her ribs, knocking the breath from her lungs.
Pain flared, but she gritted her teeth and retaliated, sweeping her leg out. Marcus dodged easily, shoving her back hard enough to make her stumble.
Laughter rippled through the watching crowd.
Celeste's cheeks burned.
She adjusted her stance, breathing through the pain. Again.
Marcus struck again, harder this time. She blocked, barely, but the impact stung down to her bones.
"You're too slow," he taunted.
A sharp, bitter anger surged in her chest. She knew how to fight. She had trained for years. But she could see it in their eyes—none of them expected her to win. They had already decided she was weak.
And Kieran…
She dared a glance at him, searching his face for something—support, reassurance, anything.
But he only watched, expression blank.
Something inside her cracked.
Marcus swept her legs out from under her, and she hit the ground hard.
Pain lanced through her shoulder. Before she could rise, Marcus was above her, his boot pressing lightly against her chest. Not hard enough to hurt—just enough to humiliate.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"Yield," Marcus said lazily.
Celeste's vision blurred.
This wasn't training. This was a show. A message.
Kieran wasn't stopping it.
He was letting them break her.
Slowly, deliberately, she turned her head—locking eyes with the mate who was supposed to stand by her side.
And in that moment, she knew.
She was alone.
Celeste lay on the cold ground, Marcus's boot pressing just lightly enough to taunt her, to remind her of her place. Around her, the pack cheered, the sound blending into a dull roar in her ears.
Get up.
But her limbs trembled from the force of the last hit, her ribs screaming in protest.
Marcus smirked down at her, his voice dripping with amusement. "Come on, Luna. I thought you were stronger than this."
Luna. The title felt like a cruel joke.
Celeste's heart pounded, her wolf clawing at the inside of her skin, demanding she fight. But as she shifted, Marcus pressed his foot down just a little harder, not enough to hurt—just enough to humiliate.
Her hands curled into fists.
The warriors were laughing. Some openly, some hiding their smirks behind their hands. Even those who didn't laugh didn't step forward to stop it.
And Kieran…
She lifted her gaze toward him again.
He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching in complete silence.
No anger. No outrage. No sign that he would call this off.
Celeste's breath caught, something twisting painfully in her chest.
He's not going to stop it.
Something in her shattered.
Marcus leaned down, his voice low so only she could hear. "This pack will never follow you. Kieran knows it, too. That's why he's letting this happen."
The words hit harder than any blow.
A sharp, cruel whistle cut through the air.
"Enough," Kieran finally said.
Marcus immediately stepped back, but not before flashing her a smug grin.
Celeste forced herself to sit up, her hands pressing into the dirt. Her entire body ached, but it was nothing compared to the hollow, searing pain in her chest.
Kieran stepped forward, looking down at her. For one brief moment, she thought he might offer a hand. That he might help her up.
He didn't.
Instead, he turned to the gathered wolves and said, "Training is over."
The crowd slowly dispersed, wolves murmuring to one another, but not before shooting her satisfied glances.
Marcus walked away without a second look.
Only Rowan lingered, staring at Kieran like he couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.
Celeste forced herself to her feet, swallowing down the humiliation clawing up her throat.
Kieran finally looked at her again, his gaze unreadable. "You need to be stronger."
That was all he said before walking away.
Leaving her standing there, broken and alone.