The Graduation
1504 Words
Deep within the pack house, the Luna paced with quiet determination. Her son, Dorian, stood stiffly beside her, arms crossed, jaw clenched.
"You will propose to her tonight," she commanded, her voice calm but ironclad.
Dorian hesitated. For a month, under orders, he had tried to charm Seryna—flowers, compliments, careful words—but she remained distant, barely tolerating him. He had begun to think she despised him.
Marriage felt so permanent. So forced. But his reluctance meant nothing in the face of his parents' will. His father, the Alpha, had backed the Luna’s plan. If Seryna refused, the Alpha was prepared to use his aura to force compliance.
Dorian swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat. He felt a flicker of pity for the girl—this wasn’t some high school prank, this was serious. No one deserved to be used as a pawn. But mostly, he felt sorry for himself.
His older brother had been allowed to find his true mate. Why couldn’t he?
He remembered Seryna’s face during training—how quiet she was, how invisible she made herself. But something about her had always pulled at him. And now? She glowed. She was growing into someone radiant and powerful. And he... he was the one being forced to claim her.
He hated that it wasn’t his choice. He hated that it might cost her everything she was working toward—her escape from this place. Still, part of him wondered what it might have been like to have earned her affection, to be someone she could choose.
Tonight, it would all be decided. And one way or another, Seryna would belong to him, whether either of them wanted this bond or not.
Seryna
Seryna stood before the mirror, straightening the final strands of her lustrous black hair. The oils Maria had insisted she use for the last month had worked wonders, leaving her hair sleek, healthy, and shining like onyx beneath the morning light. Her eyes, once dulled by years of pain and survival, sparkled with something new—hope.
She smoothed her hands down the bright red, skin-tight dress she’d chosen for the occasion. It hugged her in all the right places, highlighting the soft curves she’d developed since being able to eat regular meals. Today, she would graduate. Today, she would close the door on one chapter of her life and open another—a future paved not with uncertainty, but purpose.
The ceremony would mark the end of her time at the village school and the beginning of her official training year. For healers like Seryna, passing the apprenticeship phase meant moving on to grueling exams, magical trials, and clinicals that pushed even the most talented to their limits. But she was ready.
As she finished applying her makeup—soft rose tones on her cheeks, a shimmering gloss on her lips—she couldn’t help but reflect on how bizarre and surreal the last month had been. Ezekial had finally left her alone. Dorian, on the other hand, had suddenly taken a curious interest. He hadn’t been as cruel as Ezekial, but he had laughed with him, watched her suffer, sometimes even egging him on.
Still, she hadn't pushed him away. His presence had kept the bullies at bay, and for that, she could tolerate the occasional fake smile or shallow flirtation. But she had no intention of ever becoming his mate, or anyone's mate if she could help it.
She glanced at her packed bags in the corner, the sight grounding her. This was her last day here. Soon, she'd leave the village and never look back.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Maria entered, holding something delicate in her hands. The room glowed with quiet joy—painted in calming pastel blue, with white furniture and a bookshelf stacked with texts on herbs and healing.
Maria crossed the room, embraced her, and gently fastened a golden, heart-shaped locket around her neck. It glimmered above her collarbone.
"A graduation gift," Maria said with a proud smile.
I like it very much, Rose purred in Seryna’s mind.
Seryna touched the pendant softly, a smile curling on her lips. She had never owned anything so fancy, she would cherish it always.
Maria’s heart ached with pride and worry. She had watched Seryna rise from ashes, watched her forge light from darkness. And now, as she looked at the girl—her girl—she silently vowed to protect her with everything she had. The Luna's eyes had been on Seryna far too often lately. And tonight, Maria feared, was not just about celebration.
The graduation ceremony took place in the pack house’s grand hall, a vaulted chamber strung with garlands and glowing orbs of soft magic. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and aged parchment, laced with the buzz of low conversation. One by one, students stood before peers, family, and pack leaders to announce their futures.
Some declared their intent to become warriors. Others had chosen trades. A few, like Seryna, planned to pursue higher education.
Ezekial swaggered to the front, proudly announcing his future position as Beta. There were polite claps from the elite. Seryna remained still.
Then it was her turn.
"I intend to continue my studies and become a doctor," she said clearly, her voice unwavering.
There were a few gasps and scattered applause—more shocked than supportive.
She returned to her seat with her chin high. The ceremony ended, and the hall transformed for the afterparty—music, lights, food, and dancing. But Seryna had no intention of staying.
Her heart thudded like a war drum as she slipped toward the exit. Each step felt like a countdown. The scents of cinnamon and roasted meat wafted through the air, but she barely noticed.
Just as she reached the doors, a voice stopped her.
"Seryna Vale."
She turned. The Luna and Dorian stood behind her, the crowd's attention shifting.
Then, in front of everyone, Dorian dropped to one knee and held up a ring.
Her blood turned to ice.
"Will you be my mate?" he asked, voice trembling.
Maria froze, then quickly turned to face the luna who grinned in satisfaction.
Seryna stared at Dorian, stunned. A sacred vow? Now? Her breath caught in her throat, and a sharp chill raced down her spine. She could feel hundreds of eyes pressing against her skin. The room seemed to constrict around her, air turning thick and heavy.
Dorian felt the weight of every eye, every breath in the room pressing on him. He hated this. Hated the manipulation. But he held her gaze, silently begging for understanding. I'm sorry, his eyes seemed to say. I didn’t want this either.
Maria’s heart nearly stopped. She saw the desperation in Seryna’s posture, the stiffness in Dorian’s jaw, the false pride in the Luna’s smile. Her instincts screamed—protect her.
Seryna’s throat burned as she opened her mouth to speak—to say no—when a furious roar split the hall.
Ezekial.
His rage had taken over and overcome with jealousy, he attacked his oldest friend.
In a blur of motion, he lunged for Dorian. The two collided, snarling and clawing.
The crowd gasped and scattered.
Though Dorian had alpha blood, Ezekial fought with fury. Blood splattered. Snarls echoed. The fight was brutal.
Dorian finally pinned Ezekial, blood dripping from a cut on his brow.
Ezekial’s father rushed in, grabbing his son. "She’s mine! She’s mine!" he growled.
Inside, Raze raged. You fool! he screamed at Ezekial’s fractured consciousness. You threw her away! You rejected our mate! And now you think you can take her back with claws and pride? You don't deserve her! His fury crackled through their shared mind. I curse the day I was bonded to such a coward!
The pack doctor sedated Ezekial, whose body went limp. His father carried him toward the pack hospital.
The hall fell silent.
The pack murmured in stunned voices, some gasping in disbelief. A few elders huddled together, whispering urgently.
“I thought she was unmated…” someone said.
“Did you see the way Ezekial attacked? That wasn’t just jealousy.”
“The Luna’s son proposing in public—who does that?”
“This will cause a scandal,” the gamma-ranked wolf muttered.
Others watched Seryna with new eyes. Not pitying. Not scornful.
But cautious. Curious. And for the first time—respectful.
Seryna stood frozen, heart pounding in her ears like a drumbeat. The smell of blood and crushed blossoms lingered in the air. Her palms were clammy, her throat dry. Her emotions twisted—rage, fear, disbelief, and above all, betrayal. This was supposed to be a moment, for celebration. And they had turned it into a spectacle.
Maria was suddenly beside her, gently gripping her arm.
“Let’s go,” she whispered.
Seryna nodded slowly, blinking back the sting of tears. She had survived worse. But this time, she wasn’t alone.
And the game had just changed.
- Writer
