The drums beat like nervous hearts around the clearing, their rhythm pulsing through the soles of my bare feet. Moonlight pierced through the canopy of ancient oaks, casting silver patterns on the packed earth where the Silverclaw Pack had gathered for the Ceremony of the Moon. Tonight, the Moon Goddess would reveal mate bonds among those who had come of age.
I shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the sleeves of my simple cotton dress. Around me, other young women wore silks and velvets in deep blues and purples, their hair adorned with silver moon-chains and their wrists bare, waiting for the mate mark to appear. My own wrists remained stubbornly unadorned, my hair plain and unbound.
"She has no wolf," someone whispered behind me, the words carrying clearly in the tense silence. "Why is she even here?"
"The Alpha allows her to attend out of pity," came the reply. "As if the Moon would bless someone so defective."
I kept my eyes fixed on the bonfire at the center of the clearing, pretending not to hear. Eighteen years of whispers had taught me that silence was my only shield. My parents had died when I was young, leaving me without status or protection. An omega without a wolf shift was the lowest of the low in the pack hierarchy, surviving only through obedience and invisibility.
Still, a foolish part of me had hoped. Tonight, perhaps, the Moon Goddess would finally show me mercy. Perhaps I would be granted a mate, someone who might see beyond my limitations.
The drums suddenly changed their rhythm, growing faster and more insistent. A hush fell over the crowd as Alpha Darius Blackfang entered the clearing. He moved with predatory grace, his dark hair catching the firelight as he scanned the assembled pack members. Even from my position at the edge of the crowd, I could feel the power radiating from him, the dominance of his wolf pressing against my skin like a physical weight.
Around me, pack members lowered their heads in respect. Several young women straightened their postures, hope shining in their eyes. Lyra Dawncrest, the Beta's daughter, stepped forward in her flowing purple silk, her chin held high with confidence. She was everything I wasn't—powerful, beautiful, from a noble bloodline.
I tried to make myself smaller, to disappear into the shadows at the edge of the clearing. I didn't belong here among the hopeful, the worthy. I was just Clara Moonveil, the wolfless omega who should have been content with her place in the pack's lowest ranks.
But then Alpha Darius's eyes swept across the crowd, and for a moment, they locked with mine. The world tilted on its axis. A strange warmth spread through my chest, and the scent of pine and winter rain filled my senses. My heart began to race uncontrollably, beating against my ribs like a trapped bird.
No. It couldn't be.
The whispers around me grew louder as others noticed the Alpha's unwavering gaze. I tried to look away, to break whatever connection was forming between us, but I couldn't. His eyes held me captive—dark, intense, and suddenly filled with something I couldn't quite identify. A shiver ran through me, part fear, part awe, part foolish hope.
As he began to move through the crowd, parting the sea of pack members like a ship through water, my feet remained rooted to the ground. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to escape before the inevitable humiliation. But something stronger kept me in place—a fragile, foolish hope that perhaps the Moon had not abandoned me after all.
He stopped before me, towering over my slight frame. The full force of his alpha presence washed over me, and I swayed on my feet. A faint silver light began to glow on my wrist, so subtle that perhaps only I could see it in the firelight. My chest ached, hope and fear wrestling inside me.
"Mate," I whispered, the word barely audible even to myself.
The clearing fell completely silent. All eyes were on us—on the powerful Alpha and the wolfless omega. Lyra's face twisted with disbelief and fury. Elder Morvak stepped forward, his weathered face a mask of concern, but his eyes glittered with cold authority.
Alpha Darius's expression hardened, the brief softness I had imagined in his eyes replaced by cold disdain. He looked down at me as if I were something foul he had stepped in.
"The Moon has made a mistake," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the clearing. Every syllable struck like a whip. "This cannot be."
My fragile hope shattered like glass. The warmth in my chest turned to ice, and the silver light on my wrist flickered and died.
"I, Alpha Darius Blackfang, leader of the Silverclaw Pack, reject you, Clara Moonveil, as my mate and future Luna." His words were deliberate, each one a fresh wound, sharper than the claws of any wolf. "I will never claim a defective omega who cannot even shift."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by cruel laughter. My cheeks burned with humiliation as tears pricked my eyes. I refused to let them fall, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
Lyra stepped forward, placing her hand possessively on Darius's arm. "The Alpha has made the right choice," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "The pack needs a strong Luna, not a burden."
Elder Morvak nodded gravely. "The Alpha speaks wisely. A wolfless mate would only weaken the pack during these difficult times. Those who dare defy this judgment would bring ruin upon themselves."
The pain of rejection hit me then—a physical agony as if something inside me had been torn apart. I clutched my chest, struggling to breathe as the mate bond that had barely formed snapped like a brittle thread. A trickle of blood ran from my nose, and I tasted copper on my tongue.
The world spun around me, and I collapsed to my knees in the dirt. Through a haze of pain, I saw Darius turn away without a backward glance, Lyra still clinging to his arm. The pack members looked on with a mixture of pity and contempt. Murmurs whispered of curses and bad omens.
"The wolfless one is cursed," someone muttered. "The Moon has marked her as unworthy."
Elder Morvak stood over me, his shadow falling across my bowed form. "By the authority vested in me as pack elder, I sentence you to banishment. You will leave Silverclaw territory before sunrise. If you are found within our borders after that time, the penalty will be death. The cursed forest awaits you—a place where no omega survives the night."
I struggled to my feet, my body trembling with shock and pain. No one offered to help. No one spoke in my defense. I was alone, as I had always been. Every step away from the clearing felt like walking into a pit, the shadows of the forest calling with cold hunger.
As I turned to leave, I caught sight of Rowan, a quiet warrior who had sometimes shown me small kindnesses. His expression was unreadable in the flickering firelight, but I thought I saw a flicker of pity—or perhaps something else—in his eyes before he looked away.
The full moon watched silently from above, its silver light illuminating my path as I walked away from the only home I had ever known. Blood dripped from my nose onto the dirt, marking my passage with dark spots that quickly disappeared into the earth.
I didn't look back. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
What I did not know, as I stepped into the darkness that would become my new beginning, was that the Moon had never intended me to belong to the pack that rejected me.
The Moon had chosen me for something far greater.