Months ago...
🦋ALTHEA
The altar’s silver fire flared brighter, mocking .
"I, Draven Ashbourne, reject you, Althea Nocturne, as my mate and Luna."
His grip on my arm burned—the sa arm he’d used to drag here during the Claiming Hunt.
I looked up at him—sapphire eyes reflecting the Fate Fla, mouth twisted in disgust.
"What?"
Pathetic. I sounded pathetic.
He didn’t repeat himself. "You heard ."
Murmurs rippled through the gathered pack. I could hear pieces of what they said about , my cheeks burning hot with humiliation. I wanted nothing more than to shift and flee into the woods, but I couldn’t even do that.
"Wolfless disgrace."
"Oga bitch."
"Useless cunt."
Every word was another chip at my already fracturing heart.
The Vargans stood at the foot of the dais; barefoot, marked, heads lowered. Their silver birthmarks caught the Fate Fla’s light in faint, trembling glints. Even they, the pack’s chained labor, were granted more dignity than today. None of them dared look up, but their silence felt louder than the pack’s laughter.
"Draven, this is—" My voice cracked as I gestured at the thread of our bond still linking us. A brilliant silver filant, like the Fate Fla the pack lit every Claiming Hunt.
"This is what we’ve always wanted. We’ve always known we were ant to be. You have known , and I you, all our lives." Every syllable sharpened with desperation. "How can you say this now, here—" I gestured to the pack surrounding us. So many stood with their mates, silver threads binding them. "After everything I have—"
For a mont, the disdain in his gaze cracked—horror flickering.
He knew exactly what I was about to say.
What it would do to the pack.
"You are an Oga," he spat, and I flinched. "Wolfless. Disabled. In what world—what delusion—did you think I would ever choose you?"
Still, he refused to let go as he raised his head and voice to address the pack. "The North Clan has been raiding our borders."
The mutilated bodies of our gammas flashed in my mind, bile rising in my throat.
"You cannot even shift to escape, much less defend the pack alongside as my Luna." His lips twitched as he harshly pointed it out.
By the mumbles and nodding that followed, it was obvious they agreed. Elias, the beta, snickered in my direction.
Draven’s grip tightened, still refusing to let go as he publicly tore apart. "The pack is my first priority. It has always been. For the sake of the pack, I choose a Luna worthy of the title and the responsibility." He made sure his voice bood, that every ear heard each word.
The unmated won squealed, and my stomach dropped into an abyss. My cheeks flad, my vision darkened around the edges. I had to leave—had to leave now. This was the last place to show even a sliver of weakness; it would only prove their point.
I twisted my arm, trying to wrench free, but his grip turned bruising. My gaze snapped up to his, confused.
Why wouldn’t he just let go?
Was he afraid of what I would do?
My skin still prickled and itched from their scornful staring. I just wanted to leave. But I was stuck—too weak to free myself—as a voice joined the fray, making stiffen.
"What is it, Althea?" The hard feminine voice asked, devoid of empathy.
But that was as normal as the sky being blue.
"Is the truth too hard to bear?" she asked, stepping down from the dais. Even now, her footsteps made my skin crawl. My ribs still ached from my last ’session’.
I dropped my gaze, as I’d learned to do long ago, as she stopped in front of .
"Mother," I murmured.
I could feel her grimace.
She never liked calling her that.
"Is the fact that you’re too weak too much for you to accept? That you’d rather throw a tantrum than simply accept the Alpha’s rejection?"
I felt her sharp eyes rake over my form, cataloguing every flaw.
"Look at you," she said coldly. "You can’t shift. You can’t fight. You can’t even stand here with dignity."
She turned to address the pack.
"I am the Head Gamma. I have served this pack for thirty years. And I’m telling you now—" her voice rang out, clear and brutal, "—my daughter is not fit to be Luna."
The words hit like a slap.
"And it is unfortunate that you thought the friendship the Alpha bestowed upon you ant more than it did. Alpha Draven pulled this pack back from the brink. When the Red Fever ravaged our territory, he beca our salvation."
Draven’s grip turned crushing, enough that I felt my pulse hamr. The ssage was clearer than the disgust in his eyes.
Open your mouth. I dare you.
I swallowed my words like bitter bile.
"You simply cannot compare," she muttered, voice leaden with condescension.
"If she wants to be Luna so fucking much, maybe she can prove herself by bringing back the Silvermoth’s head," Elias said, grinning.
Laughter rippled through the pack.
My face burned. My chest constricted until my lungs felt too cramped to function. I needed air but he still refused to let go.
Ogas were seen as nothing more than probable sacrifices to the High Alpha. But Draven had been different. He had never treated like the rest—never humiliated like this.
It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger.
Like the man I loved no longer existed.
"The Silvermoth would gut her in seconds!" soone shouted.
More laughter.
"She’d probably trip over her own feet before she even found him!"
"Useless Oga."
"Disgrace."
I kept my eyes on the ground. If I looked up—if I let them see my face—I’d break.
And I couldn’t break.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
"Enough," Draven said, his voice slicing through the mockery.
The laughter died.
"I didn’t reject Althea out of cruelty," he said, addressing the pack. His voice was calm. asured. "I rejected her because I already made my choice."
My head snapped up so hard my neck popped.
What?
He turned, gesturing toward the gathered crowd.
"I chose my Luna long ago. Soone worthy of the title. Soone strong. Soone who can stand beside and lead this pack into the future."
No.
Even the Vargans shifted uneasily, the chains at their wrists rattling in the quiet. They weren’t allowed to react, not truly, but the tension rolling off them was unmistakable. A new Luna always ant new laws. New punishnts. New ways for them to suffer.
No, he wouldn’t—
"My Luna," he said, voice ringing with pride, "is Circe Nocturne."
The world tilted.
Circe.
My half-sister.
She stepped forward, and my stomach dropped.
She was already dressed for the ceremony.
A silver gown that caught the Fate Fla’s light. Her dark hair braided with flowers. Her blue eyes gleaming as she descended the steps, every movent graceful and deliberate.
Planned.
This was planned.
The rejection.
The humiliation.
The laughter.
All of it was to make her look better by comparison.
Circe reached Draven’s side and took his outstretched hand. The Fate Fla flared brighter—not silver this ti.
Gold.
Not a fated bond. A chosen one.
But no one cared.
The pack erupted in cheers.
"Luna Circe!"
"Finally, a REAL Luna!"
"She’s perfect!"
Circe smiled—radiant, beautiful, everything I wasn’t.
And then she looked at .
Her blue eyes t mine and, for a second, I saw it—the satisfaction. Thick, choking, coating my tongue in bile.
She’d won.
"Congratulations, darling," my mother said, stepping forward to embrace Circe.
Darling.
She’d never called that.
I should have been used to her coldness. It was all I had ever known.
Circe’s smile widened. The creeping darkness at the edges of my vision spread faster.
The pack celebrated.
Draven smiled.
Circe glowed.
And I was—
Nothing.
I’d always been nothing.
But I had never felt it this completely before.
My hand throbbed where Draven still gripped it. My ribs ached. My face burned.
I had to leave.
I had to leave now.
I twisted, trying to pull away, but my wrist was still caught.
I was just too weak to free myself.
So I pulled and yanked against his hold but he refused to let go. He wanted to stay and suffer, let burn under their scorn and sardonic taunts.
Pain exploded through my wrist. Sothing popped.
And then I was free.
A Vargan lurched instinctively when I tore myself loose—trained to intercept any fleeing pack mber—but he froze mid-step as Thal grabbed his arm, holding him back.
The chains binding them clattered softly in the sudden silence, mirroring the pounding in my ears. For one heartbeat, Thal t my gaze—wide-eyed, helpless, apology written in every trembling line of his body.
And then I ran.
I fled into the woods, cold air knifing my lungs, the cheers of the pack fading behind like a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.
Reviews
All reviews (0)