The air carried a sharp, biting chill as Ayla stood at the edge of the clearing, her hands clenched into trembling fists. Moonlight poured over the gathered packs like liquid silver, illuminating every accusing stare aimed her way. Tonight wasn’t just any gathering—it was the Luna Ascension Ceremony, the sacred rite where wolves claimed their mates, securing power and alliances for their packs. For Ayla, it was supposed to be a chance at redemption.
Instead, she felt like prey.
“Why is she even here?” one voice whispered, loud enough for Ayla to hear. “No wolf. No mate. Just a curse in human skin.”
She ground her teeth, willing herself not to flinch. Her pack—the Nyx Pack—stood stoically behind her, their gazes averted. They didn’t want her here either. But Ayla wasn’t going to cower. Not tonight.
“Focus,” her best friend, Kael, murmured beside her. His warm hand brushed her arm, a small comfort amidst the suffocating weight of judgment. “You belong here as much as any of them.”
Ayla gave him a weak nod, though her confidence was thinner than the dress she wore. Her heart thudded in her chest as the packs began to shift restlessly, their Alpha—her Alpha—taking center stage.
“Tonight, under the sacred light of the full moon, we witness the claiming of fated mates!” Alpha Grayson’s deep voice echoed, commanding attention. “Let the bonds forged tonight strengthen our packs, and may the Moon Goddess bless us.”
Ayla felt the first stirrings of fear as wolves began stepping forward, pairs drawn together by the mystical pull of their bond. The ceremony was beautiful for most, a magical moment filled with love and triumph. For Ayla, it was a ticking clock, each name called narrowing her chances of finding acceptance.
Then his name was spoken.
“Eryon Blackthorn of the Zenith Pack.”
The crowd hushed as the towering figure of Eryon emerged, his piercing golden eyes scanning the clearing. The heir to the Zenith Pack was everything Ayla wasn’t—powerful, respected, and devastatingly handsome. He was also her last hope.
The second his gaze locked onto hers, her heart stopped. A strange heat coiled in her chest, foreign and overwhelming. This was it—the pull of a fated mate. She could feel it in her very bones. Ayla took a hesitant step forward, the crowd parting as murmurs swept through.
But Eryon’s expression didn’t soften. His lips curled into a smirk, sharp as a blade.
“You?” His voice rang out, mocking. “You think you’re my mate?”
Ayla froze, her breath caught in her throat.
Eryon turned to the crowd, his laughter slicing through the tense silence. “The Moon Goddess must have a twisted sense of humor.” He stepped closer, towering over her. “I reject you, Ayla Reyne. Whatever bond ties us, it’s nothing but a mistake.”
The rejection hit her like a physical blow. Gasps rippled through the gathered wolves, their faces a mixture of shock and pity. Ayla stumbled back, her vision swimming. The heat that had burned so fiercely in her chest now felt like ice, spreading through her veins.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Kael hissed, stepping protectively in front of Ayla.
Eryon’s gaze shifted to him, cold and dismissive. “This ceremony is for wolves, not broken humans. Don’t waste your energy defending her.”
The world tilted, Ayla’s humiliation crashing down on her in waves. She wanted to run, to disappear into the shadows, but her legs wouldn’t move. She was rooted to the spot, a spectacle for the packs to feast on.
“Enough!” Alpha Grayson’s voice cut through the chaos, his tone sharp with authority. “The Zenith Pack has made their stance clear. This ceremony is sacred—there will be no further disruptions.”
Ayla barely heard him, her mind spiraling. Her rejection wasn’t just personal; it was public. A stain that would never wash away.
As the ceremony resumed, Ayla turned and fled into the forest, the cold air biting her skin. She ran blindly, her vision blurred by unshed tears. She didn’t stop until the voices faded and the trees swallowed her whole.
Collapsing against a tree, Ayla let out a strangled sob. Why had the Moon Goddess done this to her? What had she done to deserve this torment?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of snapping branches. She stiffened, her senses suddenly on high alert. Someone was watching her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as a low growl rumbled through the darkness.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice trembling.
The growl grew louder, closer. Ayla’s heart raced as a massive wolf emerged from the shadows, its silver eyes glowing with an unnatural light. This wasn’t a pack wolf. This was something else—something wrong.
She scrambled to her feet, backing away slowly. The wolf advanced, its lips pulled back in a snarl. Ayla’s mind raced. She was defenseless. She had no wolf, no pack, no one to save her.
The wolf lunged.
Ayla is thrown into immediate danger, heightening the stakes for her survival and forcing her to confront her weaknesses.
