Too late,may luna

The moon hung low and bloated above the vast mating clearing, spilling cold silver light over hundreds of gathered wolves. This was Mating Day—the most sacred night of the entire year, the night the Moon Goddess wove fated bonds to pair every Alpha and Omega destined for one another. Every young Omega in the Crimson Moon Pack waited eagerly, trembling with quiet hope, anticipating the burning wrist mark that would signify their soulmate. Whispers rippled through the crowd, excited laughs mixing with the soft rustle of fur as pack members shifted restlessly. Some already rubbed their wrists, watching for the first spark of magic to ignite beneath their skin. Everyone dreamed of this night except me. I stood isolated at the very edge of the crowd, shoulders hunched, my boots sinking into damp, frost‑kissed grass. Years of being brushed aside had taught me to shrink myself small, to take up as little space as possible, so I would not draw sneers or cruel jabs. The other Omegas clustered in tight little groups a few feet away, chattering, their wrists already glowing faint gold, pulsing with the early stirrings of a fated connection. My own wrist lay pale and lifeless at my side. No faint glow, no warm tingle, nothing. It was the same as it had been my whole life: a shameful, silent proof that I was defective, overlooked, unblessed by the Moon Goddess. Cruel whispers pricked my skin like shards of frozen glass, drifting over in the night breeze. “Poor Sera. The Goddess completely forgot about her.” “No Alpha would ever want a weak, useless Omega like her.” “She’ll die alone, without a mate, without a pack to call hers.” I bit hard into my inner cheek until sharp metallic copper flooded my tongue, forcing myself not to flinch. I had heard variations of these words since I turned sixteen. I had grown used to eating meals alone at the back of the hall, used to being skipped over during pack training, used to the way others glanced away when I walked past. I had long since made peace with the idea that I would never receive a mate bond. I told myself I would survive, even if I lived on the fringes of the pack forever. That was supposed to be my fate. Then the crowd suddenly parted. Bodies bowed instinctively, shoulders dropping, conversation dying mid‑breath as Damien Blackwood cut through the throng. Alpha of the Crimson Moon Pack, ruler of over three hundred wolves. Cold, feared, impossibly powerful. Storm‑silver eyes glinted under moonlight. Broad, corded shoulders carried the weight of the entire pack. His dominant Alpha aura rolled out in heavy, unyielding waves, thick with pine and burnt smoke, pressing every wolf down into quiet submission. Even the loudest gossips fell silent. You could feel the tension thrumming in the clearing, every soul waiting to see which Omega the Alpha’s bond would claim. In that breathless, frozen second, something violent and primal snapped deep inside my bones. A brutal, unrelenting pull ripped through my veins, my muscles, every fiber of my soul. My lifeless pale wrist burst into blazing silver fire, hot and scorching, light so bright it stung my own eyes. My wolf crashed forward in my mind, frantic, howling without pause, screaming one single word on a loop: Mate. Every nerve in my body hummed. My hands shook. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst right out of my chest. Damien froze mid‑step. His whole body locked up, visible shock rippling across every line of his frame. I stared at him, stunned, stupid hope flaring sharp in my chest. His silver eyes blazed brighter than the full moon hanging overhead. His knuckles whitened, fists clenched tight at his hips, jaw grinding so hard I could see the muscles tick in his cheek. Uncontrolled Alpha power rippled out across the entire clearing, raw and primal, a reaction no wolf could fake. Every pair of eyes whipped back and forth between my glowing silver wrist and his visibly trembling body. His wolf wanted me. There was no mistaking it. The beast inside him craved this bond, ached for my soul, burned to claim me. I could feel that feral hunger hanging heavy in the air between us, thick enough to touch. For one wild, reckless heartbeat, I let myself believe everything might change. All the years of mockery, all the loneliness, it could vanish. I would no longer be the broken Omega on the edge of the pack. I would be his. But the human man inside him crushed that wild instinct beneath cold iron will. Disgust settled over his sharp features, plain for everyone to read. He closed the short distance between us in two long strides, a gaze sharp enough to slice open skin. I stood rooted to the spot, my heart still racing, confused. His wolf burned for me, yet Damien himself looked at me as if I was something filthy he wanted to scrape off his boots. Our fated bond, the gift from the Moon Goddess, was nothing more than a terrible mistake in his eyes. “Sera Vale,” he rumbled, his deep voice carrying across the silent clearing, loud enough for every wolf in the front rows to hear. “You are my fated Omega.” A collective gasp swept through the onlookers. Shocked murmurs erupted. Heads turned, eyes wide, people muttering in disbelief. The defective, forgotten outcast Omega, mated to the most powerful Alpha in the territory? No one saw this coming. Not even me. Before I could gather my wits, before I could process what this meant for my miserable life, his tone dropped, turning icy, blade‑sharp and merciless. “But this bond is a mistake I will never accept. I, Damien Blackwood, Alpha of the Crimson Moon Pack, reject Sera Vale as my fated mate. I renounce this Goddess‑given tie entirely.” The bond shattered. White‑hot agony exploded outwards from my wrist. Fire tore through my veins, burrowing deep into my ribs, shredding every fragile piece of my heart. I doubled over, gasping for air, my knees buckling under the overwhelming pain. Hot, burning tears blurred my vision. The brilliant silver light on my skin flickered and died in an instant, leaving a raw, throbbing broken scar, pulsing continuously, a permanent mark of public rejection. The clearing blew apart in shocked, mocking whispers. Hundreds of pairs of eyes burned into my hunched, humiliated figure. I read pity, cruel amusement, morbid curiosity, unbridled judgment across every face. Even through his firm resolve, Damien’s body still shook. His wolf was screaming, raging against the choice he had just made. The beast still craved the mate he had cast aside for all the pack to witness. Still, he gave me not one glance. No flicker of remorse, no hint of mercy. He turned his back completely and walked away. Heavy boots crunched over frost‑covered grass, leaving me broken, bleeding, burning with shame directly beneath the full moon. Fate had handed me the mate I had never dared to wish for. Only for him to throw me away in front of every single person I had ever known. I bit every trembling sob back down my throat. I would not collapse here. I would not give them the satisfaction of watching me crumble. Not for the gossiping Omegas, not for the sneering warriors, certainly not for Damien. Beneath the crippling physical pain and overwhelming humiliation, something new began to stir inside of me. Hot, sharp, unyielding anger. Defiance. I refused to stay the weak, discarded Omega everyone expected me to be. My wrist throbbed, the rejection scar pulsing with every beat of my heart. I could still hear the whispers swelling behind my back. They were already debating what would happen to me now. Some said I would be driven out at once. Others whispered a rejected Omega who rarely survived long alone in the wild woods. I lifted my chin high, swiping burning tears roughly off my cheeks with the back of my hand. I ignored the crackling bonfires of the pack celebration behind me, ignored the eyes digging into my back. I turned my heels, and walked straight toward the shadow‑choked depths of the forbidden woods. Tall ancient trees loomed ahead, darkness swallowing the silver moonlight. No pack member was supposed to step foot inside. But I no longer belonged with them anyway. The frost bit my exposed wrists. The scar continued to ache. Somewhere deep in my chest, my wounded wolf whimpered. Still, I kept walking, further and further away from the pack that had never wanted me.