I was born to be his Luna.
Or at least, that's what they told me.
Stand tall, shoulders back. Don't look anyone in the eyes too long. Smile, but not too much. Be soft, graceful, quiet. Obedient. The perfect she-wolf for the perfect Alpha.
Alpha Jaxon Thorne.
Tonight was supposed to be our bonding ceremony under the full moon—the moment fate would finally tie us together. My wolf, silent for years, had been strangely restless all day. Pacing, scratching at the edges of my mind, but still not speaking.
Everyone thought it was because I was broken. That I was the weak one. Maybe I even believed that once.
But not tonight.
Earlier that evening, I stood in front of the mirror while my mom clipped the silver clasp on my ceremony cloak.
"Quit moving," she said sharply, pulling the fabric a little too hard. "This is the biggest night of your life."
I swallowed hard. "You're sure he'll accept me?"
She sighed in annoyance. "Of course he will. You're his fated mate. It's already been decided. The moon doesn't make mistakes."
"Unless," a smoother voice interrupted, "he thinks fate isn't enough."
Celeste stood in the doorway, wearing a white dress that showed off her perfect figure. Her blonde hair fell in gentle waves over her shoulders, and her lips were a soft shade of pink. She looked stunning—like she didn't belong in the real world.
She always did.
"Celeste," my father warned from across the room. "Not tonight."
"What?" She tilted her head, faking innocence. "I'm just saying. Fate doesn't guarantee love. Some Alphas prefer… stronger mates."
My stomach twisted.
"You've had your chance to shine, Celeste," my mother said tightly. "This is Lyra's night."
Celeste smiled at me. "Of course it is. I'm just here to support my baby sister. Always."
Liar.
My father placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Stay composed. Jaxon's watching everything. Don't disappoint us."
I nodded, throat dry. No one asked how I felt.
No one ever did.
---
I stood in the clearing, bathed in silver moonlight, surrounded by the pack that never really saw me. My heart pounded as Jaxon walked towards me, looking golden and perfect in his ceremonial robe. The wind moved his dark hair a little, and his strong jaw was tightly clenched.
He looked like a leader. Confident. Cold. Unshakable.
My parents stood behind me, their faces stiff and expressionless. My mom's fingers hovered near her mouth, like she wanted to bite her nails but stopped herself. My dad kept his chin up, looking proud and impossible to read—just like he always did.
Celeste stood off to the side, still in that white lace dress. No ceremonial robes. No reason to look that beautiful.
Except one.
"Step forward, Lyra Stone," the elder announced.
I stepped into the center of the circle, heart pounding. Jaxon walked toward me. Every eye watched. I swallowed the knot in my throat and dared to look at him.
He didn't smile.
Something was off.
Please don't mess this up, I thought to myself.
Jaxon stopped right in front of me, staring at me with a certain coldness.
"I, Alpha Jaxon," he said loudly so everyone could hear, he then looked around making sure he got everyone's attention "-reject you as my mate."
For a second, the words didn't make sense.
I just blinked.
The crowd gasped. Someone dropped a glass. The elder was saying something, but I couldn't hear it over the ringing in my ears.
"No," I whispered.
He turned around.
And walked straight to Celeste.
Celeste smiled—this wicked, glittering smile—and tilted her neck.
Jaxon bit down and marked her in front of everyone.
The entire Royal Crescent Pack cheered.
My world collapsed.
I felt something snap inside me. My knees gave out. I fell to the ground, my hands scraping against the ground. I couldn't catch my breath. My lungs refused to work. My wolf screamed—but not out loud. She never did.
I looked up—desperately—to my parents.
They didn't meet my eyes.
My mother turned her head away. My father adjusted his cufflink.
And Celeste… she licked the blood off Jaxon's mouth and gave me a wink.
I ran.
---
I didn't think. I didn't care. I just ran.
My bare feet slapped against the forest floor, branches tearing at my dress, at my skin. The wind was cold, cruel, and sharp like the eyes behind me.
No one chased me. No one called out my name.
Because I was nothing now.
No Luna. No wolf. No pack.
I ran until the trees grew darker, wilder. Until the polished stone trails turned to jagged roots and shadowed cliffs.
The Outlands.
I had crossed into rogue territory.
And I didn't care.
Maybe I wanted something to kill me.
But fate… fate wasn't done with me yet.
---
I didn't see the wolves until it was too late.
A growl snapped through the air. Three of them came out of the trees—dirty, scarred rogues with red eyes and foam around their mouths.
One of them changed into a man—tall, strong, and smiling in a creepy way.
"Look what we have here," he said, voice like gravel. "A little Crescent pup all alone."
"Please," I whispered, backing away. My legs were shaking. My wolf stirred—but she still wouldn't speak. Useless. Broken.
"No one to protect you now, princess?" he sneered. The others laughed, stepping closer.
I turned and ran—but one of them lunged, tackling me to the ground. His claws sliced across my shoulder. Pain exploded through me. I screamed.
This was it.
This was how I died.
Then the wind changed.
Everything stopped.
A low, deadly growl ripped through the trees—so deep and powerful it made the ground shake beneath me.
A blur of black fur and fire hit the rogue above me. He was thrown into a tree with a sickening crunch.
The others growled, preparing to attack.
The dark wolf stood tall. Massive. Intimidating. Glowing eyes burned like silver embers. His snarl was primal.
And terrifying.
The rogues hesitated.
Big mistake.
He moved like lightning. Fast. Precise. Deadly.
One by one, he tore them down.
I couldn't move. Couldn't look away. Blood sprayed across the trees. Bones crac
ked. Screams echoed through the woods.
Then silence.
The black wolf turned to me, breathing heavily. His eyes met mine. Something ancient shifted in my chest. My heart skipped.
He shifted into a man.
Naked. Broad shoulders. Muscles scarred and built like a weapon. His face was half-shadowed, but those eyes…
He looked like a nightmare. And a savior.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
I tried to speak, but blood filled my mouth.
Darkness swallowed me.