The cold wind howled across the clearing, sharp and biting like it had a mind of its own. Trees swayed and whispered, their leaves rustling secrets into the darkness. Moonlight poured down in silver sheets, bathing the earth in a haunting glow. It was the night of the Moon Festival—a night meant for celebration, for the finding of fated mates, for power to shift and destinies to be sealed.
Arya crouched in the shadows behind a tall oak, her breath shallow and trembling. Her heart pounded so loud it threatened to give her away. She wasn't supposed to be here. Omegas like her—mute, weak, discarded—weren't allowed near the ceremony grounds. But she had come anyway. Just to watch. Just to feel like she belonged, even for a moment.
The crowd beyond the trees sparkled with beauty and strength. Wolves from every rank danced under the moonlight in their human forms, dressed in ceremonial robes and golden cuffs. Their laughter filled the air, bold and loud. In the center, the bonfire roared, its flames licking the stars.
Arya wrapped her thin shawl tighter around her frail body. She could never be part of them. Not really. Not with a voice that never worked. Not with a wolf inside her that never surfaced. At nineteen, she had never shifted, never fought, never even howled. She was a ghost in her own skin.
And yet, something pulled her here tonight. A pressure deep in her chest. A whisper in her blood. She couldn't name it. Couldn't explain it. But it was as if the moon itself had called her.
She pressed closer to the tree trunk and peeked through the leaves.
Then she saw him.
Alpha Kael Thorn.
Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.
He stood at the edge of the circle, towering above everyone, a mountain of muscle and power wrapped in a dark cloak. His hair was raven-black, tousled by the wind. His eyes—those eyes—were molten silver, glowing faintly under the moon. He wasn't dancing. Wasn't smiling. Just watching.
Everyone parted around him like he carried death in his shadow.
Arya had heard the stories. Everyone had. Kael Thorn was the youngest Alpha in northern territory history. Cold. Merciless. Dangerous. They said he once ripped the throat out of his own Beta for challenging his authority. They said he'd never taken a mate. That the Moon Goddess had cursed him with no match because even She feared what he might do with a Luna.
And yet... he was here.
As if hearing her thoughts, his head suddenly turned.
His gaze cut through the firelight and landed straight where she hid.
Arya froze.
No. He couldn't see her. She was too far back. Buried in the shadows.
But his eyes narrowed slightly. His nostrils flared.
Her heartbeat quickened. Something stirred deep in her stomach. A strange heat unfurled inside her chest, spiraling outward like a thread being pulled.
She grabbed the bark of the tree for support. What was happening?
Suddenly, the drums stopped.
The crowd fell into a hush.
One by one, heads turned toward the sacred altar at the center of the clearing. The High Elder stepped forward, lifting his staff into the air.
"Let the Moon choose!" he bellowed.
A collective chant followed. "Let the Moon choose! Let the Moon choose!"
The clouds parted, and the moon gleamed brighter than before, full and radiant. It bathed the altar in light.
All around, unmated wolves trembled. The mating bond was a rare magic. The Moon Goddess chose mates only once, binding souls by destiny and blood.
Arya looked down at her hands. Nothing. She felt nothing. Of course.
She turned to leave.
But then—fire.
It started in her chest. A sharp, blinding flame that spread through her limbs like wildfire.
She gasped, collapsing to her knees.
Pain clawed through her ribs, down her spine. Her skin burned, as if something inside her wanted to burst free.
Her vision blurred.
Voices cried out in the distance.
And then she heard it.
A growl.
Low. Deep. Echoing through her very soul.
She looked up—and saw him.
Kael.
He was standing still as stone, his face twisted in fury. His claws had extended. His canines bared.
And his eyes… they were locked on her.
"No…" he snarled. "No, no, no…"
Everyone turned to look at him.
The elder stepped forward, confused. "Alpha Kael… what is it?"
Kael took a step forward, eyes never leaving Arya. "She's mine."
Gasps rang out. Someone dropped a goblet. A wolf in the crowd let out a yelp.
Arya blinked, stunned.
No… it couldn't be.
The High Elder looked between them, stunned. "The Moon has chosen?"
Kael's voice was a snarl. "The Moon has cursed me!"
Arya's hands trembled. Her body was still on fire. Her throat closed. She wanted to scream—but no sound came.
Kael strode toward her, fury radiating from him like a storm.
She tried to crawl back. Her legs refused to move.
He reached her in seconds. Towered over her. His scent hit her like a wave—cedar, smoke, and danger.
He grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her to her feet.
She swayed, dizzy from the bond. Her skin tingled where he touched her. Her heart betrayed her, thudding in rhythm with his.
Kael looked her over with barely masked disgust. "You are my mate?"
Arya couldn't speak. Even if she could, what would she say?
"Mute. Fragile. Pathetic." His eyes glowed brighter. "You'll weaken me."
She flinched.
"I reject this."
The words were ice. Final. Loud enough for all to hear.
The crowd gasped again.
But the bond did not break.
He felt it too. The tether still pulled tight between them.
Kael cursed under his breath.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the night.
Before anyone could react, three dark figures burst from the trees on the other side of the clearing—rogues.
The fire exploded into sparks.
Screams filled the air.
The warriors shifted instantly, leaping into action.
Arya fell back to the ground, shielding her head.
One of the rogues darted toward a young pup that had strayed too far.
Without thinking, Arya lunged forward and shoved the pup aside.
Claws slashed her shoulder. Pain ripped through her.
She cried out silently.
The rogue raised his claws again—but a blur of black fur collided with him midair.
Kael.
He shifted mid-leap, his massive wolf form colliding with the rogue and tearing him apart in seconds.
He turned to Arya, blood dripping from his muzzle.
Their eyes locked again.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then he shifted back—still naked, covered in blood and ash.
He walked toward her slowly.
People stared. Whispers surged.
He crouched beside her.
His voice was low. Angry. Confused. "Why did you protect the pup?"
She opened her mouth, but no words came. Just silence.
Kael's jaw clenched.
"I don't understand you," he muttered.
He looked at the blood on her arm. Then at her wide, terrified eyes.
For some reason, he didn't let go of her this time.
He stood—and dragged her up with him.
"I'll deal with you later," he said darkly. "You're coming with me."
And just like that, he pulled her into his world.
Not as a Luna.
Not as a mate.
But as a problem he intended to control… or destroy.