The night I was sent to the Alpha, the moon hung low and swollen in the sky—too bright, too watchful, like it already knew I was about to be given away.
The pack hall smelled of fear.
It clung to the stone walls, seeped into the wooden benches, curled around my throat until breathing felt like a crime. I stood at the center of the hall with my hands folded in front of me, my head bowed not out of submission—but because looking up would mean meeting their eyes.
And they had already decided my fate.
"Liora Ashfall," the Beta announced, his voice echoing through the hall. "Step forward."
My heart stuttered. Still, I obeyed.
Every step felt heavier than the last as I moved toward the raised platform where the Alpha and elders sat. Whispers followed me—soft, poisonous things.
Weak.
Unmated.
Useless.
I was twenty-one. An adult by pack law. Old enough to be punished. Old enough to be offered.
The Alpha of my pack didn't look at me when he spoke. "You've been accused of breaking territorial law."
I swallowed. "I crossed the eastern border to gather herbs. I had permission."
A lie—half of one.
The elder beside him snorted. "Permission you claim was given by a wolf who died two winters ago."
Silence.
I said nothing. Defiance had never saved anyone like me.
The Alpha finally met my gaze. His eyes were cold, assessing, already bored. "Your presence here has become a liability. You attract trouble."
Because I'm different, I wanted to say.
Because my wolf was quiet.
Because my scent didn't match anyone else's.
Instead, I stayed silent.
"The council has decided," the Alpha continued, "that you will be transferred."
A ripple moved through the hall.
Transferred.
Not married.
Not exiled.
Worse.
"To whom?" I asked before I could stop myself.
For the first time that night, the Alpha smiled.
"To Blackridge."
The name hit like a blade.
Blackridge Territory was ruled by one wolf.
Alpha Kael Nightborne.
The oldest ruling Alpha in the northern packs. Unmated. Untouched by time in a way that unsettled everyone. A man whispered about in warnings and half-finished stories.
They said his wolf was brutal.
That his dominance crushed weaker wolves without effort.
That no female had ever lasted long in his presence—by choice or otherwise.
I felt the room tilt.
"No," I whispered.
The elder's staff struck the stone floor. "You will go as an offering. A peace gesture."
A sacrifice.
"You cannot send me there," I said, my voice shaking now. "He doesn't take strangers. He—"
"He will take you," the Alpha cut in calmly. "He already agreed."
The breath left my lungs.
Alpha Kael had agreed.
Which meant… this had never been about punishment.
It had been about me.
The journey to Blackridge took a full night.
I rode in the back of a dark vehicle with no windows, guarded by two warriors who refused to speak to me. The forest outside grew thicker, older, the air heavier with a power that pressed against my skin.
By the time we crossed into Blackridge territory, my wolf—quiet as she was—stirred.
Uneasy.
Alert.
Then the vehicle stopped.
The door opened.
And the scent hit me.
Pine. Smoke. Cold iron.
Dominance—raw and overwhelming.
I stumbled forward, my legs weak as my boots hit stone.
The Blackridge estate loomed before me, carved into the mountainside like it had grown there instead of being built. Torches lined the steps. Warriors stood at attention, their gazes sharp and unreadable.
At the top of the stairs… stood him.
Alpha Kael Nightborne.
He was taller than I expected. Broad-shouldered, dressed in black that blended into the night, his dark hair streaked faintly with silver. His presence alone silenced the forest, as if even the trees held their breath.
His eyes—steel-gray and ancient—fell on me.
And the world narrowed.
I felt it then.
The pull.
Not desire.
Not fear.
Recognition.
His gaze lingered, sharp and assessing, before flicking to the guards. "This is the offering?"
My escort bowed deeply. "Yes, Alpha."
Kael's jaw tightened. "She's small."
Heat rushed to my face. I lifted my chin despite myself. "I can hear you."
One of his brows lifted—barely.
Interesting.
He descended the steps slowly, every movement controlled, deliberate. When he stopped in front of me, the air thickened until my lungs burned.
Up close, he was terrifying.
Older. Stronger.
A man who had never needed to raise his voice to command obedience.
He studied me in silence, then reached out.
I flinched.
His hand paused mid-air.
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
"Look at me," he said quietly.
The command slid under my skin, settling deep. My body reacted before my mind could argue. I lifted my gaze.
For a long moment, he simply looked.
Then his fingers brushed my wrist.
The contact was brief—but it felt like lightning.
His wolf surged.
I gasped.
Kael's hand tightened instantly, steadying me before I could fall. A low growl rumbled in his chest—not threatening, but warning.
"Careful," he murmured, more to himself than to me.
I stared at him, heart pounding. "Why am I here?"
His eyes darkened.
"Because your pack doesn't know what to do with you," he said. "And because the Moon has a cruel sense of humor."
He released me and straightened, already pulling away.
"You will stay," he continued, voice turning cold and authoritative. "You will follow my rules. You will not wander. You will not provoke my wolves."
He turned, then paused.
"And you will not call me Alpha."
I frowned. "Then what should I call you?"
His gaze slid back to me—heavy, dangerous.
A slow, unreadable smile touched his lips.
"…Kael," he said.
After a beat, he added, low enough only I could hear,
"Or nothing at all."
As he walked away, my wrist still burned where he had touched me.
And deep inside my chest—
something ancient shifted.
Unsettled.
Awake.