Elara's POV
"Cursed blood shouldn't be allowed here."
The whisper hits me like a slap, and I press myself harder against the cold stone pillar at the back of the Royal Stronghold's ceremony grounds. My borrowed dress—too tight in the shoulders, too loose everywhere else—suddenly feels like it's strangling me.
I shouldn't have come.
But Ivy begged me to. "Everyone deserves a mate, Elara," she'd said this morning, braiding my silver-white hair with gentle fingers. "Even you."
Especially you, her eyes had added, full of pity I pretended not to see.
Now, surrounded by hundreds of wolves dressed in silks and jewels, I feel like a dirty smudge on a perfect painting. They're all here for the Moon Claiming—the sacred ceremony where the Moon Goddess reveals fated mates. One night a year when single wolves stand under the full moon and wait for golden threads to connect their hearts to their destined partners.
I've dreamed about this night since I was twelve. Since the day they dragged my parents to the execution square and accused them of treason. Since the day our pack turned their backs on me and I became the girl everyone blamed for crimes I didn't understand.
For eleven years, I've been invisible. Worthless. The traitor's daughter.
But a mate bond can't be broken or denied. If the Moon Goddess gives me someone tonight, they'll have to see me. They'll have to accept me.
"All unmated wolves, step forward!" The Moon Priestess's voice rings out like a bell.
My heart hammers against my ribs. Around me, wolves move toward the center of the grounds where moonlight pools like liquid silver. Beautiful she-wolves in designer dresses. Strong male wolves with confidence radiating from every step.
I stay frozen against my pillar.
"Elara." Ivy appears beside me, her round face worried. "You have to go up there."
"They don't want me there."
"The Moon Goddess does." She squeezes my hand. "Please. Don't give up before you even try."
Something in her voice—hope, maybe, or desperation—makes me move. I slip into the crowd, trying to make myself small. No one looks at me directly, but I hear them.
"Is that the Moonwyn girl?"
"I thought she'd been banished."
"Her parents killed the old Alpha King. She has some nerve showing her face here."
Each word is a tiny knife, but I keep walking until I'm standing in the moonlight with everyone else. My hands shake, so I clasp them together and stare at the ground.
The Moon Priestess raises her arms to the sky. "Moon Goddess, Mother of Wolves, reveal the bonds you have blessed!"
Power crashes down like a wave.
All around me, golden threads burst into existence—thin streams of light connecting heart to heart. Squeals of joy erupt as wolves find their mates. A male wolf spins a crying she-wolf into his arms. Two warriors clasp hands, grinning like idiots.
I wait, hardly breathing.
Nothing happens.
Of course nothing happens. Even the Moon Goddess doesn't want—
Heat explodes in my chest.
I gasp, stumbling backward as a golden thread erupts from my heart. It's not thin like the others. It's blazing, thick as a rope, so bright it hurts to look at. The light shoots through the crowd like an arrow, and every wolf turns to follow it.
My thread connects to someone standing at the front of the ceremony.
No.
Not someone.
Him.
Alpha King Dante Silvercrest stands on the raised platform reserved for royalty, and my golden thread leads straight to his heart. He's staring at the light with an expression I can't read—shock, maybe. Or horror.
The entire ceremony ground goes dead silent.
"Impossible," someone breathes.
The Alpha King is the most powerful wolf in five generations. Tall and dangerous, with jet-black hair and silver eyes that could cut through steel. Every she-wolf in the kingdom dreams of being his mate.
And the Moon Goddess chose me.
For one perfect, shining moment, my heart soars. Against every odd, despite eleven years of pain, I have a mate. The Alpha King himself. Someone who will finally see that I'm not my parents' crimes. Someone who will—
Dante's face twists.
It's not shock I see there. It's disgust.
He strides toward me, and the crowd parts like water. Wolves back away from both of us—from him in respect, from me in contempt. When he reaches me, he doesn't smile. Doesn't reach for my hand.
He grabs my wrist hard enough to make me wince.
"This," he announces, his voice cold as winter, "is a mistake."
My blood turns to ice.
He drags me to the center of the platform where every single wolf can see. The golden thread between us pulses with light, undeniable proof of our bond. But Dante looks at me like I'm something rotting.
"The Moon Goddess has bound me to a traitor's daughter." His words echo across the silent grounds. "To the bloodline that murdered my father."
"No," I whisper. "My parents didn't—"
"SILENCE!"
His alpha command slams into me like a physical blow. My knees buckle and I fall, hitting the stone platform hard. Around us, wolves gasp. The Moon Priestess's face goes pale.
Dante towers over me, and in his silver eyes, I see nothing but hatred.
"You are not worthy to stand beside an Alpha King." Each word is carefully chosen, deliberately cruel. "You are not worthy to be Luna. You are not worthy of this bond."
Tears stream down my face. "Please—"
He raises his hand, and I know what's coming. Every wolf knows. The forbidden words that no wolf should ever speak. The rejection that will kill me.
"I, Dante Silvercrest, Alpha King of the Moonveil Territories—"
No no no no—
"reject you, Elara Moonwyn, as my mate and Luna."
The golden thread turns black.
Then it catches fire.
Pain like nothing I've ever known tears through my chest. It feels like my soul is being ripped out through my ribs. I scream, and somewhere far away, I hear Ivy screaming too. The black fire spreads from my heart outward, burning under my skin.
Through my agony, I see Dante turn his back on me.
He walks away.
Just walks away while I'm dying on the ground in front of everyone.
The last thing I see before darkness swallows me is the crowd's faces—some pitying, most satisfied.
And the last thing I feel, underneath the burning pain, is something else.
Something cold and ancient, waking up inside my chest where my heart used to be.
Something that whispers: This is only the beginning.