†Noca's Pov†
A FEW DAYS AGO
"No… no… this can't be happening!" I muttered over and over to myself, my hands trembling as I shifted back into my human form. I stared in disgust at the boy lying on the floor before me, and at the mark on his neck he was clutching.
I turned abruptly to scan the crowd, seeking some explanation, some clue that this was a nightmare I could wake from. But everywhere I looked—every face, every pair of eyes—there was silence. The elders, the people who had gathered, the Alpha of the West, the emissaries… all of them were frozen in shock.
Mariah stood there, her mouth twisted in malice and horror. Despite my distaste for her, I found myself mirrored in her expression—an impossible mix of disbelief and revulsion.
My wolf tugged at me, insistent, clawing at the edges of my mind. Go to him. Help him. Lift him. It wanted me to kneel, to cradle him, to steady him. But I didn't. I couldn't. I stood rigid, heart hammering and with a tight jaw.
This boy was the son of the man I had hated my entire life. The boy whose father had murdered mine before my eyes. And now… he was my fated mate?
"This has got to be some kind of cruel joke," I muttered loud enough for him to hear, my voice sharp, trembling incredulously.
"You? You? Of all people… you are my fated mate?" I snapped, fury and disbelief coiling in my chest. I was convinced he had tricked my wolf, somehow corrupted it into marking him.
Wolves never made mistakes. Never. Not in the scents, not in the pull of destiny. And yet mine had… it had done the worst possible thing. It had marked the wrong person. The wrong gender.
I? A man!! A man???
Turning behind me again, I noticed the faces of my pack members, confusion and shock twisting them. Some wore that twisted, smug kind of joy. I knew it too well. Whether this boy Nuel had forced my wolf to mark him or this was some cruel prank by the goddess herself, they were reveling in it. Some of them looked almost… gleeful. I had been given a mate who was a man and that in itself had already sparked scandal in the pack.
It wasn't just that he was the son of my enemy anymore. It wasn't just the betrayal of bloodlines. It was… this. A man. And only a day ago, I had executed people, and this week alone eleven couples of the same gender caught in the act. What sort of twisted, mocking play was this?
"The Moon Goddess has revealed the Alpha's mate to him! Praise be her name!" one man shouted from the crowd, the cheer slicing through the stunned silence that had engulfed us.
As if on cue, the others joined him, voices rising in wild acclaim. Every cheer and shout fueled the inferno of fury rising inside me. My lips curled in a snarl, a guttural howl tearing from my throat as I fixated on the gathered crowd, each face a reminder of how out of control everything had become.
The wolf… why now? Why him? My wolf has lost its mind. I've never wanted anything from anyone… not like this.
And yet, every fiber of me screamed at him.
He's weak, filthy and broken… why is my body betraying me like this? Why is my wolf howling for him?
I closed my eyes, fighting the pull that threatened to crush my pride. Rage, disbelief and a raw, unrelenting desire tangled together inside me like a storm I could not quell.
The Alpha of the West was seated, his eyes wide with shock, utterly unprepared for what had just unfolded. I had wanted to stride up to him, accuse him of this—the fake daughter, the excuses, the heir and now, the impossible: his son being my fated mate.
But the confusion etched across his face surpassed even my own disbelief. If anything, I would have believed he was already lost in a sea of thoughts, drowning in his own turmoil. The irony wasn't lost on me—this was his heir, a man who should have been smug, invincible in his arrogance. And yet, the Moon Goddess had revealed his son as my fated mate. In the North, mate bonds were sacred. They did not joke, they did not fail, they did not err.
"Throw him into the cauldron of oil! This has to be some joke!" I screamed, commanding the warriors nearest the fireplace. But none of them moved. Not an inch. Their trembling surpassed even that of the weakling before me, the boy who had somehow managed to stand.
But it wasn't the weak, quivering trembling of a fallen leaf. No…Nuel was losing his mind. His hand flashed from his forehead to the mark on his neck, clutching at it as if it could steady him. I watched in fascination and fury as invisible forces seemed to tug at him, trying to pull him down, trying to make him bend to a fate he could not yet accept. He wrestled with it, with the pull, the weight of what had just happened, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him as he stood there.
Even when I demanded again that he be thrown into the cauldron, he didn't flinch. He didn't even seem to hear me. He was entirely lost, drifting somewhere between daze and disbelief, wrestling with whatever invisible chains threatened to drag him to the ground. And yet he remained standing before me. Beside me. Before my eyes.
"I said! Throw him in the cauldron!" I snapped at my men again, voice sharp as steel, dripping with rage.
Finally, an elder rose from his seat. It was the Elder of House Cedric.
"You cannot do that anymore, Alpha!" he said, his voice steady despite the tension. "As much as I hate to admit it, the Moon Goddess has revealed that he is your fated mate. As such, that dissolves him from whatever punishment he was meant to receive. He is your life's tether, your eternal companion, the one whom destiny has bound to your soul, your Nivara."
"Shut up!" I snarled, venom dripping from my words. "Shut your disgusting mouth!"
"You cannot go against the Moon Goddess' wishes, Alpha. The North is known for being her loyal children. We never go against her nor question her will. You must take the boy as your mate. You must, considering the North needs a Luna!" Another elder spoke, rising from House Velric, his voice echoing through the crowd.
I growled low in my throat and shifted halfway, howling into the air. I knew the value my people placed on mates. Such bonds were rare, precious and almost sacred. That was why arranged marriages existed here—betrothals, unions forged by families to ensure that bloodlines intertwined and that the rare chance of a true mate wasn't wasted. Yet here was my mate… the one I had been taught to hate, the son of my enemy, standing before me.
And the North demanded that I honor this bond.
"This is a blessing bestowed upon you by the Moon Goddess!" Elder Cedric proclaimed again.
A blessing? I scoffed, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.
"Perhaps you should beseech the Moon Goddess to bless you this way too!" I snapped, my tone sharp, dripping with contempt.
"My Nivara?" I barked again, fixing my glare on him.
"The Moon Goddess should bestow another blessing upon me," I snarled, my voice low and dangerous, "because there is no way I am accepting him as my mate!" I turned fully to face the boy behind me.
He was still struggling to stay upright, attempting to maintain some semblance of control over his posture, but that was the least of my concern. I didn't care that he was wobbling, fighting against whatever force pressed him to his knees. To me, every move he made was an attempt to manipulate the situation, a desperate bid to escape the punishment that awaited him. But it was a lie. He would still face the cauldron of hot oil prepared for him, and I had the means and the will to ensure it happened. Alpha Noca of the North never went back on his word. Never. Not once. And he would not begin now.
"I, Alpha Noca of House Fenric of the North, reject you…" The words spilled from my lips, each one heavy with fury and disbelief.
Murmurs erupted through the crowd, slicing through the hall like whispers of lightning. I braced myself, preparing to finish my declaration of defiance but before I could, before I could finish what I had intended to say, Nuel collapsed.
He fell to the floor, sprawled motionless, his body seemingly surrendering to exhaustion, pain or some unseen force. Silence fell again, sharp and uneasy, broken only by the soft scuffle of footsteps.
The Luna Regent appeared then, walking with quiet authority, accompanied by a few servants. Without a word to me or acknowledging my presence, they moved toward him. Gently, they lifted him onto a stretcher, rolling him away from the crowd and toward the pack's clinic.