Chapter 1: Blamed
778 Words
The first time Aria smelled blood, it was thick in the air and mixed with the scent of dying roses.
She was only eight.
The full moon hung heavy above the treetops, casting silver light over the chaos that had erupted just outside the pack borders. Warriors howled. Claws slashed. Screams echoed. Aria stood frozen behind a thick tree trunk, her tiny fingers digging into the bark until they bled.
She had been told to stay inside. Told to hide. But she followed the Luna anyway. She adored her—Luna Calista, with her soft voice and fierce smile. The only one who ever defended her when the other pups mocked her for being quiet, small, and strange.
But tonight, even the Luna’s strength hadn’t been enough.
Aria watched as Calista fought off three rogues, her white wolf bleeding from her flank. The Luna had cried out, calling for help—but no one came in time.
And Aria? She did nothing.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. Couldn’t breathe.
By the time the warriors arrived, it was too late. Luna Calista’s body lay still in the grass, her once-glowing fur now matted with red.
The Alpha shifted back into his human form and roared, cradling his mate's lifeless body. His son, Liam, barely thirteen, fell to his knees and screamed so loud the birds fled from the trees.
And then someone saw Aria.
“She was there!” a warrior shouted. “She saw what happened!”
Heads turned. Eyes narrowed.
“You just stood there?” another growled. “You did nothing to help?”
“I I was scared,” Aria whispered, trembling.
But it didn’t matter.
In the weeks that followed, the whispers grew louder. She let the Luna die. She didn’t even try. Useless omega brat. Even her parents didn’t defend her. Her older brothers stopped talking to her altogether. Her mother wouldn’t even look her in the eyes.
Aria stopped speaking. Stopped playing. Stopped hoping.
She learned to walk with her head down. To flinch before the insults even landed. To accept that her life in the Bloodroot Pack would never be the same.
And then, ten years passed.
Her eighteenth birthday arrived beneath a cold, starless sky. Aria stood at the edge of the woods again—older, quieter, stronger. Tonight, she would finally shift. Finally meet her wolf.
And maybe… just maybe… finally leave the pain behind.
She barely had time to scream when the fire of her first shift tore through her bones.
Agony. Flames. Cracking. Stretching.
Then her.
A voice, soft and fierce, rose inside her.
“I’m Nyra. I’m your wolf. You’re not alone anymore.”
Aria collapsed in the grass, panting, shaking. She felt different. Taller. Wilder. Powerful.
Then it hit her.
A scent.
Pine smoke and storm winds. Earth and rain. So strong it stole her breath.
Mate.
She bolted upright naked, shaking and saw him.
Liam.
Her fated mate.
His golden eyes met hers—and darkened instantly.
“No,” he growled, stepping back. “No. Not you.”
The pain struck her like lightning.
She clutched her chest, gasping. “Liam—?”
“I’d rather die than be mated to you,” he spat. “You killed my mother.”
“No, I—please, I didn’t—”
He turned and walked away.
Later that night, Aria followed his scent to the pack house, hoping desperate to make him understand.
Instead, she found him pressed against another she-wolf, lips locked in a heated kiss.
The pain was unbearable.
Her knees buckled. Her wolf howled in her mind, clawing, begging for the bond not to be tainted.
Then he saw her.
Smirked.
And walked away with the other woman.
She lay on the cold stone steps outside the house, writhing from the searing burn in her chest. It wasn’t just emotional—it was physical. Mate betrayal did that.
Then… his voice.
“Reject me,” he said coldly, standing over her. “Say it.”
She stared at him through blurry eyes. “Why?”
“Because I’ll never accept you. I’m doing you a favor.”
Her heart cracked. But somehow, she said the words.
“I, Aria of the Bloodroot Pack… reject you, Liam”
Before she could finish, he turned his back on her.
That was the last time she ever looked at him.
That night, barefoot and broken, Aria ran.
Away from the mate who hated her.
Away from the family who abandoned her.
Away from the pack who never forgave her.
She didn’t know where she was going.
She just knew she had to go.
- Writer
