THE MATE THE MOON FORGOT

Blackthorn Territory — Thirteen years before the rejection. The first time Seraphina Vale wondered whether the Moon Goddess had forgotten her, she was eight years old. It was a cold evening in Blackthorn Territory, and the children of the pack had gathered in the clearing behind the training grounds. Their laughter filled the air as they chased one another beneath the tall trees, their little feet kicking up dust from the earth. Seraphina sat beneath an oak tree, her knees drawn to her chest and a half-eaten apple resting in her palm. She had been watching the other children for nearly an hour. Not because she particularly enjoyed watching them play, but because she had asked to join them three times, and each time they had found a reason to refuse. "You're too slow, Sera," a little boy had told her. "You can't even shift," another girl had added. "What if we play wolves and you can't become one?" The others had laughed. Seraphina had laughed too, pretending their words were funny. It was easier to laugh with them than to let them see that they had hurt her. Besides, Mama always told her that a kind heart was worth more than a hundred sharp teeth. She wanted to believe that. She really did. But sometimes, kindness felt like a small gift nobody wanted to receive. "Seraphina!" She lifted her head. Her younger sister, Elowen, was standing in the middle of the clearing with three other girls. At six years old, Elowen already possessed the sort of confidence Seraphina had never known how to wear. Her golden-brown curls bounced around her face as she smiled. "Come and see!" Elowen called. For a moment, Seraphina forgot the children who had refused to play with her. She jumped to her feet, dropped the apple beside the tree, and hurried over. "What is it?" Elowen held out her hand. A tiny silver bracelet lay across her palm. "Mama gave it to me." Seraphina's smile widened. "It's beautiful." "I know." Elowen slipped it over her wrist and admired how it glittered in the evening light. "Mama said I'm growing into a fine young wolf." Seraphina's smile faltered. "Oh." Elowen looked at her. "What?" "Nothing. It's pretty." Before Elowen could reply, one of the girls beside her giggled. "Maybe your sister will get a bracelet when she finally grows a wolf." Another girl snorted. "Maybe she won't. What if she never gets one?" The laughter returned. Seraphina stared at the ground. She wished they would stop talking about her as though she were standing somewhere far away. "I'm going home," she murmured. Elowen frowned. "But we haven't finished playing." "You can play without me." Seraphina turned before her sister could answer. She walked away slowly, determined not to run. Running would make it look as though she were crying. And she had promised herself she wouldn't cry in front of them again. She almost kept that promise. By the time she reached the narrow path leading to her family's house, her eyes had begun to sting. She wiped them with the back of her hand. "Stupid eyes," she whispered. "You always want to embarrass me." "That's a rather unfair thing to say to your own eyes." Seraphina stopped. An elderly man stood beside the garden fence, holding a basket filled with freshly gathered herbs. His silver hair was untidy, and his old brown coat was covered in little bits of leaves. It was Elias, the groundskeeper. He was the only person in Blackthorn who never seemed to be in a hurry. Not even when Alpha Draven called for him. Seraphina sniffed. "I wasn't talking to you." "I noticed. Your eyes were the ones receiving the insults." Despite herself, she giggled. Elias smiled as though he had been waiting all afternoon to hear that sound. "Come here, little moon." She approached him reluctantly. "Why do you call me that?" "Because you remind me of the moon." Seraphina glanced at the brightening sky. "But I'm not white." "Neither is the moon, not really. Look closely, and you'll see that she carries shadows too." She considered this. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" "Was it supposed to?" Seraphina gave him an offended look. Elias laughed. "Come along. Help me carry these herbs." She took the smaller basket from him, and they continued along the path toward the gardens. For a while, neither of them spoke. Then Seraphina asked the question she had been carrying around for months. "Uncle Elias?" "Hmm?" "Do you think there's something wrong with me?" He stopped walking. She wished he hadn't. People usually became uncomfortable when she asked questions like that. They would tell her not to be silly or remind her that she was still young. Sometimes they would look at her mother before answering, as though the truth belonged to someone else. Elias, however, crouched until they were at eye level. "Why would you think something is wrong with you?" "Because everyone else has a wolf." "Not everyone." "Everyone in my age group does." "Then perhaps your wolf is taking her time." "What if she never comes?" His expression changed, just slightly. It was so brief that Seraphina might have missed it if she hadn't been watching him carefully. "What if she doesn't?" he asked. Her mouth fell open. "Then I'll be the only person without a wolf!" "That would certainly make you unusual." "Unusual isn't good!" "Who told you that?" "Everybody!" Elias sighed and sat on the low stone wall beside the garden. "Seraphina, listen to me. People are often frightened by what they didn't understand. Sometimes they laugh at it. Sometimes they try to make it feel small so they won't have to admit that they know nothing about it." She stared at him. "So, I'm not broken?" His eyes softened. "No, little moon. You are not broken." "Promise?" He held out his little finger. She hooked hers around it. "I promise." Seraphina felt something loosen inside her chest. It wasn't happiness exactly. But it was close enough that she wanted to keep it. Elias reached into his coat pocket and produced a small dried flower. Its petals were pale silver, and its thin stem looked almost black. He placed it in her palm. "What's this?" "Moonflower." "I've never seen one before." "Most people haven't." She turned it between her fingers. "Why are you giving it to me?" "Because I think you need a reminder." "Of what?" "That not everything the world fails to recognize is worthless." Seraphina looked at the flower for a long time. Then she tucked it carefully into her pocket. "Thank you, Uncle Elias." "You're welcome." She took a few steps toward the house before turning back. "Uncle Elias?" "Yes?" "Do you think the Moon Goddess knows my name?" For the first time that evening, he didn't answer immediately. The wind stirred the leaves above them. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. Elias looked toward the forest, and something unreadable passed over his face. Then he turned back to her. "I think, little moon, that she has known your name for a very long time." Seraphina smiled. She didn't notice that his hands had begun to tremble. Her mother was waiting in the kitchen when Seraphina arrived home. Evelina Vale stood beside the wooden counter, stirring a pot of soup. The warm scent of herbs and pepper filled the room, and a small lamp glowed beside the window. "There you are," she said. "I was beginning to wonder if the forest had swallowed you." Seraphina dropped her basket beside the door and hurried toward her. "Mama!" Evelina opened her arms, and Seraphina wrapped herself around her waist. For a moment, she said nothing. She simply held on. Her mother stroked her hair. "What's wrong, my darling?" "Nothing." "Seraphina." That one word was enough. Her mother always knew. Seraphina pulled away and looked at the floor. "Why haven't I grown a wolf?" The spoon stopped moving. It was only for a second. A tiny pause. But Seraphina saw it. Her mother looked at her, and for one strange moment, the warmth in her eyes was replaced by something that looked almost like fear. Then it disappeared. "Oh, sweetheart." "Mama, everyone says I might never shift." Evelina placed the spoon on the counter and knelt in front of her daughter. "People say many things they don't understand." "But what if they're right?" "Then we will face it together." Seraphina swallowed. "Will you still love me if I never get a wolf?" Evelina's face crumpled. "Oh, my precious girl." She pulled Seraphina into her arms so quickly that the little girl stumbled forward. "I would love you if you had a thousand wolves. I would love you if you had none. I would love you if the entire world turned against you." Her mother's voice broke. "Nothing you become, or fail to become, could ever make you less my daughter." Seraphina pressed her face into her mother's shoulder. "Then why do I feel like there's something missing?" Evelina closed her eyes. Because there was something missing. Something the world had no right to take from her daughter. Something Evelina had spent eight years praying that it would remain hidden. But she couldn't tell her. Not yet. Instead, she kissed the top of Seraphina's head. "Sometimes, the Moon hides the things she loves most." Seraphina lifted her face. "Why would she hide them?" "Perhaps she knows the world isn't ready for them." The little girl considered this explanation. It wasn't perfect. But it was better than believing she had been forgotten. That night, Evelina tucked Seraphina into bed and sat beside her until her breathing grew slow and even. She watched her daughter for a long time. The dark lashes resting against Seraphina's cheeks. The small hand curled beneath her chin. The faint silver mark at the base of her neck, almost invisible beneath the collar of her nightdress. Evelina reached out but stopped before touching it. "Forgive me," she whispered. Seraphina stirred in her sleep. Her mother quickly rose and left the room. She crossed the hallway to a door she had kept locked for eight years. From a small chain beneath her dress, she removed a silver key. The lock turned with a soft click. Inside the room, dust covered the furniture. Old books filled the shelves, and faded maps of the seven territories hung against the walls. Evelina crossed to a wooden chest in the corner. She opened it. Beneath a folded black cloak lay a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon. Strange symbols had been engraved into its surface, and a thin c***k ran through its centre. She lifted it with trembling fingers. For eight years, she had kept the pendant hidden. For eight years, she had prayed that the truth would never find her daughter. And for eight years, she had believed that silence could keep Seraphina safe. Evelina pressed the pendant against her chest. Then, in a voice so quiet that even the walls could barely hear her, she whispered a name. A name that had not been spoken aloud in centuries. A name that could bring the seven territories to their knees. A name that belonged to the truth behind Seraphina's birth. "I have protected her for eight years," Evelina whispered. "Please, don't make me choose between my daughter and the promise I made." Silence answered her. Then— KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Evelina froze. Nobody knew about this room. Nobody was supposed to know about the pendant. And nobody, absolutely nobody, should have known the name she had just spoken. The knocking came again. Three slow, deliberate knocks. Evelina slipped the pendant into her pocket and turned toward the door. A voice spoke from the other side. "Open the door, Evelina." Her blood turned cold. She knew that voice. She had spent eight years praying she would never hear it again. The voice spoke once more. "The Moon's child is running out of time."