(Part 1: The Blood Moon Ceremony)
The moon is bleeding tonight.
It hangs above the Silvercrest courtyard like a wound that refuses to heal red, swollen, pulsing with every heartbeat I wish I didn't have.
The elders call it a blessing. I know better.
The Blood Moon reveals truth, they say; it sears away the lies between mates.
And now, beneath its cruel light, mine stands before me.
Alpha Christian Korr.
My fated mate.
The man the Goddess herself promised to my soul.
The crowd gathers in a ring of silverstone, hundreds of wolves cloaked in moonlight. I feel their eyes like blades as Christian steps toward the dais. His posture is perfect proud shoulders, calm eyes, the sort of strength that makes others bow without question. Once, I thought that strength was safety.
Now I feel only the chill of something ending.
"Kendra Vale," he says, voice carrying over the courtyard. "By the decree of the Moon Goddess, you were born my mate. But tonight"
He pauses. A murmur ripples through the pack. Even the wind holds its breath.
"tonight, I reject you."
The words fall like a blade cleaving bone.
For a moment, the world doesn't move. I'm frozen in the red glow, hearing nothing but the frantic thunder of my own pulse. Then the pain hits. It's not emotional it's physical, ripping through my chest like claws. The mate bond snaps, invisible threads tearing one by one.
I gasp, knees buckling. My wolf howls inside me, the sound strangled and broken.
He keeps speaking. "You are kind, Kendra, but too gentle for the Luna's throne. Our pack needs an Alpha Queen who can command, not heal."
He turns his head slightly toward the woman standing behind him Selene Dray, daughter of the War Pack. Her eyes gleam, triumphant. The mark of the moon glows fresh on her neck.
He already claimed her.
I taste iron. Blood or heartbreak I can't tell.
"Christian," I whisper. "Please the bond"
"It's for the good of Silvercrest," he says, as if reciting a duty. "You'll be released by dawn. The pain will fade."
But it doesn't. It won't.
The crowd shifts uneasily. A few she-wolves lower their eyes, pitying. The elders nod in approval, as though betrayal were just another ritual.
I want to scream. I want to let the Moonfire burning behind my ribs burst free and scorch them all. But healers don't destroy. That's what I was taught.
So I bow my head and choke on the ashes of love.
Later, I would remember the scent of rain before it fell, the way the torches hissed as the wind passed. I would remember that I wanted to die before morning.
But that night, I only remember running.
The forest swallows me whole. Branches whip my face, roots grasp my feet, and still I run. The rejection mark sears down my spine, glowing faintly silver. Every step tears at the invisible thread still tying me to him.
I fall beside the Moonpool, the sacred spring where mates once pledged themselves. The reflection staring back is a ghost eyes too bright, lips pale, hair tangled with blood.
"Why?" I whisper to the water. "Why give me a bond just to break it?"
The moon shimmers in answer, mocking me.
Then the pain shifts. Something deep inside me cracks open, and light bursts from beneath my skin. Silver fire dances along my arms wild, uncontrolled, beautiful. The forbidden power of the Moonfire, the healer's last defense.
I can feel it eating my strength, but I don't stop it. I want the world to see my agony. I want the Goddess to watch.
Thunder rolls across the forest. The air hums. And from the shadows, shapes move rogues, their eyes gleaming red. I smell bloodlust and the faint scent of war.
One of them snarls. "There she is. The rejected Luna."
So this is how it ends. Not by love's mercy, but by the jaws of those who feast on weakness.
I raise a trembling hand, silver flames coiling around my fingers.
"Come then," I whisper. "Let the moon decide who it favors tonight."