MOONBOUND: The Alpha’s Forbidden Mate

THE GIRL NO ONE CHOSE No one ever chose me first. I understood that early enough that it stopped hurting after a while. When there was work to be shared, my name always came last. When choices were made, no one looked in my direction. If attention moved through a room, it passed over me like I wasn’t really there. I didn’t fight it. Fighting meant being noticed, and being noticed had never brought me anything good. So I learned how to stay quiet. How to move without drawing eyes. How to exist in a way that left no mark behind. In our pack, strength was something people showed off. Beauty was spoken about openly and often. Those who mattered were discussed, praised, watched. I wasn’t weak, and I wasn’t useless either. I worked hard. I followed rules. I did what was asked. But I was forgettable. And for a long time, that felt like safety. Things began to feel wrong months before everything changed. Wolves stopped sleeping through the night. Guards stayed longer at the borders. The elders argued more, their voices sharp even when they tried to keep them low. There was a feeling in the air that I couldn’t name, like something waiting just beyond reach. I noticed because I paid attention. When no one expects anything from you, you have time to listen. You learn patterns. You learn silences. Most days, I stayed in the common hall. I carried water, cleaned tables, prepared food, scrubbed floors after meals. It wasn’t difficult work, but it took time and patience. I liked it that way. The routine helped me disappear into my tasks. No one questioned me there. But that evening felt different. The hall was full, yet too quiet. Conversations ended suddenly. Laughter started and then died out. The fire burned bright, but its warmth didn’t settle in my chest. I could feel tension in the way people moved, stiff and careful, as if everyone was waiting for something to happen. The elders stood together near the far wall. They weren’t seated. They weren’t relaxed. Their faces were tight, hands restless. I had never seen them gather like that unless something was very wrong. I kept my head down and focused on cutting roots at the table. The knife moved under my fingers in steady strokes. I had learned that pretending not to notice things was often the safest choice. “Elara.” My name made my hands stop. I looked up and saw Elder Maeron standing near the entrance. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching me closely. Something about his look made my stomach tighten. “Yes,” I said, placing the knife down. “Come with me.” That was all he said. No reason. No comfort. The room grew quiet as I stepped away from the table. I could feel people watching me, their curiosity heavy. Some whispered, others only stared. No one said my name again. I kept my back straight and followed Maeron out of the hall. The corridors felt longer than usual. My thoughts moved too fast, searching for a reason. I couldn’t think of anything I had done wrong. I always followed rules. I never caused trouble. We reached the council chamber. The doors were open. Inside, the elders were already seated. Some looked guarded. Some looked distant. One or two looked almost gentle, and that unsettled me more than anger would have. I stood where Maeron directed, alone in the center of the room. “Elara,” he said, his hands folded behind his back. “You know about the unrest between the packs.” “Yes,” I answered softly. Everyone knew. The borders weren’t safe anymore. Messengers arrived daily. Agreements were breaking. Blood had already been spilled, even if no one spoke of it directly. “We have tried to negotiate,” another elder said. “We are running out of time.” My chest tightened, but I stayed quiet. I still didn’t understand why I was here. “A solution has been offered,” Maeron said carefully. “One that could prevent war.” I swallowed. “What solution?” The silence that followed felt heavy. “The northern Alpha has agreed to a binding,” he said. It took a moment for the meaning to settle. “A marriage,” another elder added. I waited for another name to be spoken. Someone important. Someone known. Maeron looked straight at me. “You have been selected.” The words landed quietly. There was no sudden panic. Just a dull pressure in my chest, like something pressing down slowly. “The Alpha has agreed to take you,” he continued. Then I understood. I wasn’t chosen because I mattered. I was chosen because I didn’t. I had no powerful family. No mate. No influence. No one would argue for me. If I left, nothing would change. The pack would go on as if I had never been there. “When?” I asked. “Tomorrow,” he replied. “At dawn.” I nodded. They spoke of duty. Of balance. Of sacrifice. Words meant to sound noble. I listened without interrupting. My hands stayed folded in front of me, steady despite my heartbeat. When they dismissed me, I left quietly. The hall outside was louder now, full of murmurs that stopped when I appeared. News traveled fast. I felt it in the way people looked at me. Some pitied me. Some looked relieved. A few looked curious. I returned to my room and sat on the bed. I stayed there for a long time, staring at my hands. The walls felt closer. The future felt distant, already out of reach. I thought of the northern Alpha. Kael of Vireon. His name was always spoken carefully. They said he did not bow. They said his land was harsh. They said his wolves obeyed only him. They said nothing about kindness. Sleep came slowly. When it did, it didn’t last. I woke before dawn to the sound of movement. Horses. Guards. The pack preparing to send me away. I dressed on my own. Tied my hair back the same way I always did. There was no reason to change now. Outside, the sky was pale. The elders waited near the gates. No one else came. I didn’t look back. There was nothing behind me that had ever chosen me first.