Too late,may luna

Chapter 2: The Forbidden Forest

I did not look back. Hisses, taunts, and poisonous whispers chased me relentlessly out of the mating clearing, sharp as thorns lashing against my burning skin. Fragments of cruel phrases floated in the night air, sharp enough to cut. Rejected. The Alpha’s fated mate, thrown away like trash. Poor, useless Sera. Those bitter words tangled viciously in the wind and clung to my skin, as if I could physically feel every judging eye burning into my back. Still, I refused to slow my pace. I would not stumble. I would not let them catch even a glimpse of my weakness to gossip about later. I held my shoulders locked rigid, my chin tilted high, forcing one foot in front of the other. Behind me, the loud music and laughter of Mating Day celebrations faded little by little. Bit by bit, the warm golden glow from the pack bonfires dimmed, swallowed behind thick gnarled tree trunks. When the last flicker of firelight vanished completely, I knew I was fully cut off from the only home I had ever known. Only when the suffocating silence of the ancient woodland wrapped tight all around me did the strength I had clung to so fiercely start to crumble apart. The broken rejection scar on my wrist throbbed with a dull, heavy, unrelenting ache. That pain did not stay confined to my skin. It seeped down deep into my marrow, settling into every bone, every joint in my body. I had grown up listening to the elders’ grim bedtime stories about rejection sickness. They spoke in low, grave tones of what happened to Omegas whose fated bonds were torn apart by public rejection. The magic wound poisoned both body and spirit. Many faded slowly, wasting away from unbearable heartache. Countless more ran from their packs, vanishing into the wild lands and never coming home, consumed by grief. I pressed my palm hard against the hot, throbbing scar, my fingers squeezing so tight my knuckles turned pale. My whole arm trembled. I swore under my breath into the cold night air. I would not become one of those sad, broken souls from the old tales. I would not let Damien’s reckless, pride‑driven choice kill me. A dry branch snapped sharply somewhere off to my left. My whole body locked down, every muscle tensing. Panic shot hot and fast through my veins. For one heart‑stopping second, I was certain pack Betas had been sent after me. I pictured them dragging me back to the clearing, forcing me to stand once more in front of every wolf so they could laugh and stare at my humiliation. I braced myself for heavy boots crashing through underbrush, for voices shouting my name. But nothing came. No footsteps crashed through the leaves. No calls cut through the dark. There was only the soft rustle of wind brushing pine needles, and the distant, lonely hoot of an owl echoing far between the trees. My shoulders relaxed just a fraction, though my heart still hammered hard against my ribs. I had reached the real boundary line. This was the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Since childhood, the pack elders had filled our young heads with terrifying stories of these woods. They warned us of old, unforgiving magic that existed long before any wolf pack had formed, long before the Moon Goddess’s teachings took root among our kind. Wolves who crossed this line rarely returned the same. Some wandered back half‑mad, eyes hollow, unable to speak of what they had seen. Others simply disappeared, swallowed whole by the forest’s shadow. Even our bravest Alphas avoided stepping deep beneath these trees. To come here was to cause disaster. I stood and stared into the endless wall of unbroken blackness. Massive oak and cedar trunks loomed overhead like silent, stone‑cold giants, their branches weaving together to block most of the moonlight. Behind me lay everything I had ever known. A pack that had never truly accepted me. Wolves who laughed at my misfortunes. A fated mate whose wolf burned my soul, yet whose human heart despised my very existence. A whole lifetime of quiet shame, of shrinking myself small just to survive. Ahead of me stretched the unknown. Danger. Old magic. No rules, no judgements, but also no safety net. I hesitated for only a heartbeat. There was nothing left for me behind. I took one shaky step over the invisible boundary. Then another. The ancient forest swallowed me whole. The air grew noticeably colder the further I walked inward. Thin slivers of silver moonlight managed to slip through gaps in the heavy canopy, painting faint streaks across the thick moss covering the ground. Every time I shifted my weight, dead fallen leaves and brittle twigs crunched under my boots. The sound carried far in this strange, heavy quiet, making me flinch each time, half‑expecting something to leap out from the shadows. My wolf paced restlessly inside my mind. Her ears flattened against her skull, hurt and frightened from the shattered bond. Yet she never whined for me to turn back. She was just as worn down, just as wounded, just as tired of the Crimson Moon Pack’s cruelty as I was. We had both endured enough mockery and neglect. Going back held no comfort for either of us. I lost all track of time out there in the dark. Night stretched on without markers. Hours blurred together. My legs burned, every step growing heavier. My throat turned dry, and each ragged breath stung my raw lungs. The sharp, blinding agony from the bond breaking had faded, but in its place settled a hollow, gnawing emptiness deep inside my chest. That loneliness felt heavier than any physical pain. It pressed against my ribs, threatening to crush me from within. Damien’s face kept replaying behind my closed eyes no matter how hard I tried to push the image away. I saw his storm‑silver eyes, hard and unyielding. I remembered how easily he had crushed our fated tie in front of hundreds of witnesses. What haunted me most was the cruel contradiction I could not escape. Deep down, his wolf had craved me. Every primal instinct in his beast had screamed for our bond. And still, he had cast me aside without an ounce of mercy. Confusion tangled together with hurt and bitter resentment, swirling over and over in my head. Could a wolf’s instincts lie? Or had his pride truly been powerful enough to override what the Moon Goddess herself had woven? No answer came to me. My mind clouded with old memories too. I thought of the years I spent sitting alone at pack feasts, watching other Omegas laugh and celebrate. I remembered training days when the other young wolves would trip me and snicker when I fell. I had always told myself if I stayed quiet, stayed obedient, one day I would earn some small measure of respect. Mating night had ripped that false hope completely away. Distracted by my swirling thoughts, I caught my foot on a thick, gnarled tree root half‑buried under moss. I stumbled forward hard and crashed shoulder‑first against the rough bark of an ancient oak. That blow was the final c***k in my carefully held‑together composure. Tears burst free, hot and unrestrained, streaming down my cheeks. I slid down the rough trunk until I landed on cold, damp moss, drawing my knees tight against my chest. My whole body shook with silent, shaking sobs. I was not crying for Damien. I was not grieving the mate bond that had shattered. I grieved for the lonely little girl I had once been, the one who had spent so many nights secretly begging for acceptance, for somewhere to belong, for someone to see her worth. Tonight, in front of the whole pack, the world had proven exactly how worthless they thought I was. I cried until my eyes burned and my throat ached. Bit by bit the sobs died away. I sat there motionless in the dark, fighting to steady my ragged breathing. Something felt wrong around me. The forest had gone unnervingly still. Even the wind had vanished. Not a single leaf rustled. A heavy, suffocating silence hung thick in the air, so complete it made the hair rise on the back of my neck. That was when I heard it. A voice, soft and ageless, ethereal and faint. It wove through the tree branches like thin curling smoke. It did not speak the common tongue all wolf packs used, yet its meaning bloomed clear and unmistakeable directly inside my mind, echoing deep in the core of my soul. Sera. My breath caught violently in my throat. Every muscle in my body went rigid with shock. I glanced all around, scanning every shadow, but I could not spot any shape, any figure among the trees.“Who is there?” I called out. My voice came out hoarse, small and fragile, swallowed by the vast endless woodland. The voice drifted closer, wrapping around me like warm silk. Its tone was calm, steady, unyielding. Come.

Come to me. I pushed myself shakily back onto my feet. My legs felt weak, unsteady beneath my weight. That ancient call drifted from deeper within the forest, from the densest black heart of these woods, the place no pack wolf dared to tread. Every survival instinct screamed at me to run. Turn back. Head toward pack territory, no matter how cruel the pack might be. Yet I had no real safety to run toward. There was no home waiting for me back there. I had already been cast out. I took another step forward, moving deeper into the shadow, drawn toward that mysterious voice stirring within the forbidden dark. Far beneath the layers of soil and rotting roots under my feet, something old and powerful stirred awake. Fear had guided most of my choices this whole terrible night. But not anymore. Curiosity bloomed inside me, mixed with quiet wonder, and a hard‑won resolve. Whatever waited ahead, I would meet it. I had nothing left to lose.