The night air clung to me like damp cloth as I stumbled back toward the packhouse. My chest still burned from the rejection, my mind a mess of Ethan's cruel words and the memory of golden eyes in the forest. The Alpha King. He had vanished as suddenly as he appeared, his gaze seared into my bones.
I should have been grateful he scared away the rogues, but his presence only left me shaken. Why was he there? Why did he look at me like… like I was prey?
The questions twisted inside me, but they were nothing compared to the humiliation still bleeding fresh in my veins.
The packhouse loomed ahead, glowing with torchlight. Laughter still spilled from the hall, cruel and mocking to my ears. I hesitated at the door, my hands trembling. A part of me wanted to keep walking—never stop, never turn back—but I forced myself inside.
The music had quieted, replaced by a restless murmur. Whispers swirled around me instantly, like gnats that refused to die.
"She looks like a ghost."
"I can't believe Ethan rejected her like that."
"Serves her right. She never was worthy."
Each word sliced deeper.
I kept my gaze on the floor, walking quickly, praying no one would stop me. But of course, someone did.
My mother.
"Aria." Her voice was soft but strained. She caught my wrist, her eyes flicking nervously around the room. "You should go upstairs. Rest."
Rest. As if sleep could erase the gaping wound in my soul.
Her hand squeezed mine gently, but she didn't defend me. She didn't raise her voice to silence the whispers, didn't glare at the wolves who mocked me. She just wanted me hidden, out of sight, so the shame wouldn't stain the family further.
For a heartbeat, I hoped my father would speak up. That he would step from the shadows and say, This is my daughter, show her respect.
But when my eyes found him at the far side of the hall, he looked away.
Like I was already gone.
The ache in my chest deepened.
Daniel appeared then, storm in his eyes, jaw clenched tight. "Aria, come with me." His grip on my arm was firm, dragging me through the corridors until we reached his chamber. He slammed the door behind us, pacing like a caged beast.
"Do you realize what you've done?" he snapped.
I blinked, stunned. "What I've done?"
He turned on me, fury radiating off him. "Ethan rejecting you—do you know what that means for this family? For me?"
The words hit harder than Ethan's rejection. My voice trembled. "This wasn't my fault."
Daniel's fists clenched at his sides. "Fault or not, the entire pack is laughing at us. At me. My best friend humiliated my sister, and now I'm a joke."
Tears burned my eyes. "You're worried about your reputation while I—while I can barely breathe?"
He stopped, his face softening for just a moment. He looked at me like he wanted to say something else, something protective, but the words never came. Instead, he shook his head.
"You should have been stronger, Aria."
That broke me more than Ethan's words ever could.
I stumbled back, tears slipping free. "Stronger? The Moon Goddess chose him, not me. And he—he threw me away." My voice cracked, raw and desperate. "What was I supposed to do? Beg?"
Daniel's eyes closed, his shoulders tense. He didn't answer.
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, he muttered, "Stay in your room tonight. Don't show your face again."
As if I were the shame. As if hiding me would erase what happened.
I fled his chamber, my legs shaking beneath me. The corridors blurred as I reached my room and shut the door with trembling hands.
The moment the lock clicked, I collapsed onto the floor, sobs wracking my body.
The rejection bond pulsed painfully, ripping through me again and again. Every memory of Ethan—his laugh, his kindness when we were children, the way he used to smile at me—was a knife. And now, those same storm-gray eyes had looked at me with disgust.
I pressed my palms to my chest, as if I could hold the pieces of my heart together. But it was useless.
The pack's whispers haunted me even here, inside these four walls. Weak. Worthless. Nothing.
A knock at my door made me jolt, but it wasn't Daniel this time. It was my mother again, her voice low.
"Aria, open the door."
I wiped my tears and obeyed, though part of me wished she would just leave me alone.
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her eyes were softer than Daniel's, but still laced with fear.
"You have to understand," she began carefully, "Ethan is ambitious. He wants power. He doesn't see you as—" She hesitated, searching for words that wouldn't wound. "As enough."
"Enough?" My voice broke. "Am I not your daughter? Am I not enough for anyone in this pack?"
She reached for me, but I pulled away.
"You should leave tomorrow," she whispered finally. "Go stay with your aunt in the neighboring territory until this dies down. The whispers will fade if you're not here to remind them."
Her words shattered me all over again. She wasn't protecting me. She was banishing me.
Tears blurred my vision as I shook my head. "You want me gone."
She closed her eyes, silent.
And that silence was the loudest answer of all.
That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, sleep impossible. Every whisper, every cruel laugh replayed in my head. My family's silence was worse than their words.
I realized then—I was no longer safe here. Not with Ethan's rejection staining me, not with the pack's judgment, not even with my own family turning their backs.
The mate bond was supposed to save me. Instead, it destroyed everything.
A broken laugh escaped me, bitter and sharp.
If they all saw me as nothing, maybe it was time to leave and become something they'd never forget.
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Somewhere in the forest, a wolf's distant cry echoed under the moonlight. My wolf stirred, restless, whispering of danger and destiny.
And in the shadows of my room, I swore I felt golden eyes watching me.