His Wolfless Mate Is The Moon Sovereign

Chapter4

Chapter 4: Beneath the Blood Moon

The Moon Goddess had never turned the sky red before.

Elena Moonveil stood at the edge of the ceremonial grounds, staring at the enormous crimson moon hanging above Blackthorn Pack. Around her, hundreds of wolves had gathered in their finest clothes, their faces lifted toward the heavens.

Then the first scream broke through the crowd.

An elderly wolf dropped to his knees, clutching his chest. Others staggered as an invisible force swept across the grounds. One by one, the wolves lowered their heads, their instincts responding to something they could neither see nor understand.

Elena felt it too.

A strange pressure tightened around her heart.

Beneath her sleeve, the silver crescent blazed.

"No," she whispered, covering her wrist. "Not here."

She had spent the entire afternoon avoiding the council's guards, but there had been nowhere to hide. The Alpha's orders were clear: every unmated member of Blackthorn had to attend the Moon Ceremony.

Refusing would have meant punishment.

Attending might expose the secret she barely understood.

Neither choice had offered safety.

"Elena!"

Mira hurried through the crowd, her breathing uneven. She wore a simple green dress and had tied her dark hair into a loose braid.

"I thought you weren't coming," Mira said.

"I tried not to."

"Then why are you here?"

Elena glanced toward the raised platform at the center of the grounds.

"Because apparently, the Alpha's orders matter more than my wishes."

Mira followed her gaze. "You could still leave."

"With fifty guards watching the exits?"

"Point taken."

Despite everything, Elena almost smiled.

The moment passed when trumpets sounded from the eastern gate.

The crowd parted.

Alpha Driven Veyl entered the ceremonial grounds surrounded by his warriors and council members. He wore black ceremonial robes embroidered with silver thread, a symbol of authority resting against his chest. His expression was composed, but his eyes swept the gathering with the sharpness of a predator searching for movement.

When his gaze found Elena, he stopped.

Only for a heartbeat.

Then he continued toward the platform.

Elena felt the familiar pull in her chest.

It was stronger tonight, an invisible thread stretching between them. Her breath caught as Driven passed beneath the ceremonial arch, and the crescent on her wrist burned hot enough to make her wince.

Mira noticed.

"Your arm again?"

Elena nodded.

"Then we need to get you away from here."

Before she could move, a deep voice rolled across the grounds.

"Let the ceremony begin."

The crowd fell silent.

The High Priestess stepped onto the platform. Her white robes shimmered beneath the crimson moon, and a silver staff rested in her hands.

"For generations, the Moon Goddess has guided our kind," she announced. "Tonight, she will bless the unmated and reveal the bonds destined to shape their lives."

A murmur of anticipation spread through the gathering.

Elena lowered her eyes.

She had no wolf. No family name worth protecting. No reason to believe the goddess would notice her.

Still, she couldn't stop the strange certainty gathering inside her.

Something was coming.

And it had already found her.

---

The ceremony proceeded with the usual rituals.

The priestess called forward several unmated wolves, placing her palm against each person's forehead while chanting the ancient words. Some received no sign from the goddess. Others experienced brief flashes of recognition, their eyes lighting with excitement when they discovered a possible mate among the crowd.

Laughter and applause followed each successful pairing.

Elena watched from the back, trying to ignore the ache in her wrist.

Then Lady Isadora Frostvale stepped onto the platform.

Her appearance drew immediate attention. Dressed in a pale blue gown, she looked every inch the future Luna the council had imagined. Her father stood proudly among the visiting dignitaries, already exchanging satisfied glances with Driven's advisers.

The priestess touched Isadora's forehead.

A golden light flickered between her and a young nobleman from another pack.

The crowd applauded.

Isadora smiled graciously, though her gaze briefly sought Driven.

He did not return the look.

His attention had shifted to Elena.

She felt it without looking up.

When she finally met his eyes, something moved across his expression—recognition, frustration, and a hunger he seemed determined to suppress.

Elena turned away.

She would not allow herself to imagine that his attention meant anything.

Not after hearing him discuss political alliances as though people were pieces on a board.

The priestess continued calling names.

Then the wind changed.

It swept through the ceremonial grounds, extinguishing several lanterns. The flames died simultaneously, leaving only the crimson moon to illuminate the gathering.

A hush fell.

The High Priestess gripped her staff.

"Who has disturbed the sacred grounds?"

No one answered.

Elena's wrist erupted in pain.

She gasped, clutching it against her chest.

The silver crescent shone through her sleeve.

Mira grabbed her arm. "Elena, what's happening?"

"I don't know!"

A pulse of light burst from Elena's body.

The priestess stumbled backward.

Every wolf in the gathering dropped to one knee.

The sound of hundreds of bodies striking the ground echoed across the estate.

Elena stood alone.

Her mouth fell open as she stared at the kneeling crowd. Even the visiting Alphas had bowed involuntarily, their faces twisted with confusion and alarm.

Driven gripped the edge of the platform.

His wolf surged against him with such force that his knees nearly buckled.

There.

The voice inside him was no longer a growl.

It was a command.

There she is.

Driven stared at Elena, his pulse pounding.

His wolf had recognized her.

Not as a threat.

Not as an enemy.

As its mate.

He looked toward the council. Their faces had gone pale. Several elders whispered urgently among themselves, while the High Priestess stared at Elena's wrist as if she were witnessing a nightmare.

Then the priestess spoke a name.

A name Elena had never heard before.

"Moon Sovereign."

The words passed through the crowd like a blade.

Elena's knees weakened.

"What did you call me?" she whispered.

The priestess did not answer. She was staring at Elena's face, tears gathering in her eyes.

"No," the old woman breathed. "It cannot be."

The silver light spread from Elena's wrist to her palm, tracing delicate patterns beneath her skin. A crown-shaped mark appeared above the crescent.

The crimson moon turned silver.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

Some wolves began to tremble. Others pressed their foreheads to the ground, unable to resist the power rolling from Elena.

She looked desperately toward Driven.

He was staring at her as though the world had shifted beneath his feet.

For one fragile moment, hope rose inside her.

Perhaps he would come down from the platform. Perhaps he would explain what was happening. Perhaps, despite everything, she would not have to face this alone.

Driven descended one step.

Then another.

His wolf urged him forward, demanding that he cross the distance between them.

But the council intervened.

"Alpha!" Elder Corvin seized Driven's arm. "Do not approach her."

Driven shook him off. "Release me."

"Look at what she has done!"

Elena flinched at the accusation.

"I haven't done anything!"

Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to continue.

"I don't know what this is. I don't know what you think I am."

The High Priestess approached her slowly, her staff shaking in her hands.

"Child, your bloodline was believed to be extinct."

"What bloodline?"

"The Moon Sovereigns ruled before the first great war. Their power held the ancient covenants together. Then they were betrayed, hunted, and erased from our histories."

Elena shook her head.

"No. My family were ordinary wolves. My mother—"

She stopped.

Her mother had never spoken about her relatives. Whenever Elena asked why they lived apart from other families, she would receive the same answer.

Some histories are dangerous to remember.

Elena had believed it was an old family superstition.

Now the High Priestess was looking at her as though Elena had stepped out of a grave.

"You are the last of them," the priestess whispered.

The crowd erupted into frightened murmurs.

"Impossible!"

"She has no wolf!"

"She must be cursed!"

"Silence!" Driven roared.

The gathering quieted.

For a moment, Elena thought he was defending her.

Then he turned toward the priestess.

"Can you prove what you're claiming?"

The old woman hesitated.

"The moon has already answered."

"That is not proof."

"Your wolf recognized her, Alpha. The entire gathering witnessed it."

Driven's face hardened.

Elena watched him struggle with the truth. She saw the conflict in his eyes, the battle between the instinct demanding that he claim her and the ambition that had shaped every decision he made.

He looked at her.

She held his gaze, silently begging him not to become another person who would judge her before understanding her.

His jaw tightened.

The silver light around Elena flickered.

Driven turned away.

"Until this matter is investigated, no one is to approach her without the council's permission."

The words struck harder than a slap.

Elena stared at him.

"You cannot be serious."

His eyes remained cold.

"This ceremony has become dangerous. You will cooperate with the council."

"Cooperate?" Her voice rose. "Everyone here is kneeling because of something I cannot explain, and you are treating me like a criminal!"

"Lower your voice."

"Why? Are you afraid they'll hear the truth?"

A collective gasp swept through the crowd.

Driven's expression turned dangerous.

"Enough."

Elena's eyes burned, but she refused to look away.

For the first time in her life, she had the attention of every wolf in Blackthorn.

And somehow, she had never felt more alone.

The High Priestess suddenly dropped her staff.

It struck the stone with a deafening c***k.

She stared at Elena's glowing palm, her face drained of color.

"Alpha," she whispered. "You don't understand. The awakening has begun."

Driven turned sharply.

"What does that mean?"

The priestess looked toward the silver moon.

"It means someone has sensed her return."

A howl rose from beyond the estate walls.

Then another answered it.

And another.

Within seconds, the surrounding forest rang with the cries of wolves Elena could not see.

The royal guards drew their weapons.

The council members began shouting orders.

Elena clutched her wrist as a new image flashed through her mind: a ruined throne, a battlefield covered in silver ash, and a pair of cold eyes watching her from the darkness.

A voice followed.

They have found you.

Elena stumbled.

Driven caught her before she hit the ground.

The instant his hand touched hers, a violent shock of silver energy burst between them.

He recoiled, staring at his palm.

A matching crescent had appeared on his skin.

The crowd fell silent.

The High Priestess covered her mouth.

"Oh, Goddess," she whispered.

Driven looked from the mark on his hand to Elena's terrified face.

His wolf spoke again, louder than ever.

Mate.

Elena heard the word too.

Not through her ears.

Through the invisible bond connecting them.

Her heart shattered beneath a sudden, unbearable certainty.

Driven Veyl was her fated mate.

And as he stared at the mark, his expression changed from shock to cold determination.

"Remove her from the ceremony," he ordered.

Elena went still.

"Driven—"

"Now!"

Two guards seized her arms.

She struggled against them, unable to understand why he was rejecting her before he had even spoken the truth aloud.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't do this."

Driven looked at her one last time.

Then he turned his back.

Above them, the silver moon darkened at its center, as though something had begun to devour its light.

And from the distant forest, a voice no ordinary wolf could hear called Elena by a name buried for centuries.

"Rise, my Sovereign."