She was still in his head.
That thing.
That girl.
That mistake.
Kyran paced the length of his room, hands curled into fists at his sides. The soft leather soles of his boots made no sound on the polished stone, but the tension in his shoulders crackled like fire.
He couldn't sleep.
Not because of the noise downstairs, they were still celebrating, clinking glasses and pretending the Moon hadn't just cursed the future Alpha with a mate who had no wolf.
But because of her.
The way she looked at him.
Like she *knew.*
Like she belonged to him.
And worse, like he belonged to her.
His wolf hadn't spoken since the ritual.
Not in words.
But it scratched at him now. Prowled the edges of his chest. Angry. Confused.
Hungry.
"No," Kyran snapped aloud, voice sharp in the silence. "She's nothing. A servant. A mutt. Weak."
His reflection in the window didn't flinch. Cold grey eyes. Strong jaw. A future carved in steel.
He'd spent his whole life preparing for the Alpha throne. His father trained him in strategy, in power, in control. There was no room for softness. No tolerance for mistakes.
The Ironfang Pack didn't worship the Moon, they *commanded* her.
They took what they wanted. Dominated every rival. Burned every weakness to ash.
And yet…
He could still smell her.
Not clearly. Not like a normal mate bond. But something lingered.
Something wild.
Something *wrong.*
He slammed his fist against the wall.
His wolf surged forward, furious.
But not at her.
At *him.*
And that was the part Kyran didn't want to admit, not to the room, not to the mirror, not even to himself.
His wolf hadn't rejected her.
*He* had.
---
She wasn't supposed to have eyes like that.
Eyes that looked straight through him, tired, sad, and full of something unbreakable.
He remembered when she first arrived. He was barely three. She'd been found half-dead at the border, a toddler covered in blood. No parents. No scent. The Luna had demanded they keep her. His father had rolled his eyes and thrown her into the cellars.
Kyran hadn't cared.
Not then.
But over the years… he noticed.
She didn't flinch like the others.
Didn't beg.
Didn't speak.
She just *endured.*
And something about that always made him... angry.
Like her silence mocked him.
Like she wasn't afraid the way she should be.
One day, when they were thirteen, he'd cornered her behind the training ring.
Demanded she bow.
She didn't.
He'd shoved her.
She'd fallen.
But her eyes never dropped.
No tears. No words.
Just... that look.
He hated it. Still did.
---
He growled and tore the silver pendant from his neck. It clattered to the floor.
The Moon had made a mistake.
She had to have.
There was no way fate would tie him…to her.
To someone who didn't even shift.
He hadn't seen her wolf. No aura. No scent. No claim.
And yet... in that moment, at the altar... when her eyes met his…
His blood had turned electric.
His chest had clenched.
And his instincts screamed….
*Mine.*
---
He moved to the window again.
The forest beyond the manor stretched into shadow, silent under the clouds. Somewhere out there… she was breathing.
Still alive.
Still tethered to him, even after the rejection.
Because he'd said the words.
But his wolf hadn't.
And the bond didn't feel… broken.
Just silenced.
For now.
Kyran cursed under his breath.
This couldn't be happening.
He couldn't be fated to someone like her.
The Moon was testing him.
She had to be.
But something inside him, deep, primal, and no longer quiet, had already answered back.
*Then you're failing.*
---
A knock came at the door.
Sharp. Controlled.
He didn't answer.
It opened anyway.
Kalia stepped in, sleek and perfect in a black silk robe, her dark hair coiled into a loose knot.
"Well," she said dryly. "That was dramatic."
Kyran said nothing.
She walked to the window, mirroring his stance, then glanced sideways at him. "So. You felt it."
He didn't respond.
"You don't get to lie to me," she said, a little softer. "I saw your face. You felt the bond snap."
He exhaled. "It was wrong."
She arched a brow. "Was it?"
He turned. "She's a nobody, Kalia. No wolf. No bloodline. Not even a scent. She doesn't belong here…let alone as my Luna."
"Maybe the Moon disagrees."
He narrowed his eyes.
Kalia smiled slightly. "Or maybe the Moon *is* wrong. That happens, doesn't it?"
"Rarely."
"But not never." She paused, studying him. "Still... I wouldn't ignore your wolf if I were you. You're not sleeping. You're restless. You're angry…and not the normal kind."
He looked away.
Kalia's voice lowered. "You feel her, don't you? Even now."
His silence was answer enough.
She placed a hand on his arm, almost sisterly, for once. "You'll figure it out. Just don't let the pack see the cracks yet."
Then she left.
And Kyran stood alone again, still staring into the forest.
Still haunted by eyes that should've been forgettable.
But somehow... weren't.