You Can’t Break Me, Alpha

The Sacred Moonstone beneath my knees was carved from centuries of Blackridge history, and its cold seeped easily through the thin white silk of my ceremonial dress. I barely noticed it. All I could hear was the heavy rhythm of my own heartbeat, and all I could smell was cedarwood and winter rain—the scent that had haunted my waking dreams since the night I turned eighteen. It was Blake’s scent, the unmistakable scent of my fated mate. For three years, everyone in Blackridge had known that once Blake inherited the Alpha mantle, our bond would be sealed before the Moon Goddess and the entire pack. Tonight was supposed to be the night I stopped being the wolfless healer people whispered about and became the woman standing beside him. I looked up through the veil of my dark hair. Blake stood on the raised dais above me, broad-shouldered and motionless beneath the full moon. Traditional obsidian leather covered his body, midnight fur lay across his shoulders, and the Alpha crest gleamed over his chest. His jaw was locked, his amber eyes fixed somewhere beyond me as hundreds of wolves crowded the valley in expectant silence. The Council Elders were there, along with the border fighters, the families of the pack, and the healers from the infirmary where I had spent nearly every day of my adult life. Beside the altar, Elder Caleb raised his gnarled oak staff. “By the light of our ancestors and the blood of the earth,” his voice carried across the clearing, “step forward, Selena. Present your throat to your Alpha and take your place as Luna of Blackridge.” My heart lifted so sharply that it almost hurt. For years, I had endured the whispers that followed me through the Pack House. Wolfless. Defective. A healer whose inner beast had never awakened. None of it had mattered when Blake took my hand in the gardens behind the western wing, kissed my knuckles, and promised that when the time came, I would never have to face any of them alone again. I rose and placed my foot on the first altar step. “Stay where you are, Selena.” Blake’s voice cut through the mountain air. It was not the low, rough voice he used when we were alone. The words carried the full weight of an Alpha command, slamming into my body with enough force to lock my muscles before I could take another step. Uneasy murmurs moved through the crowd. “Blake?” I hated the tremor that slipped into my voice. “The ceremony…” His gaze stayed fixed above my head. “There will be no Luna ceremony for you tonight.” The clearing went so quiet that I could hear the ceremonial fire crackling behind me. “A pack does not survive on sentiment,” Blake continued, turning slightly toward the Council. “It survives because its leaders can protect it. Our borders are unstable, the rogue alliances are moving again, and Blackridge cannot afford weakness at the top when war is this close.” Then he finally looked at me. There was no anger in his face, no cruelty that I could fight against, only the cold certainty of a man who had already made his decision and convinced himself it was necessary. “You have no wolf, Selena. You cannot shift, you cannot run with the vanguard, and you cannot defend the territory as a Luna must.” His expression did not change. “Your healing has value. Blackridge needs it. But being needed as a healer does not make you strong enough to lead this pack.” The words landed harder than if he had shouted them. My fingernails dug into my palms. I had spent fifteen-hour shifts in the infirmary, closing torn flesh while warriors screamed beneath my hands, staying awake through fevered nights, and brewing remedies when ordinary medicine failed. Men who now stared at me in silence had once begged me not to let them die. “I have given everything to this pack,” I said, quietly enough that only a wolf could have heard me across the distance between us. “And I am your fated mate. The Moon Goddess chose us.” “The Goddess will not defend our borders for us.” A movement in the front row caught my attention. Someone stepped through the ranks of the elite guard, and the last of the warmth left my body when I recognized Eve, my younger sister. She was not wearing the simple formal clothing expected of the pack. She wore a shimmering silver gown embroidered with gold at the collar, the colors reserved for the woman intended to stand beside an Alpha during a Luna ceremony. A ceremonial dagger rested at her hip, and every detail of her appearance had been prepared too carefully to be accidental, leaving no doubt that she had known exactly what would happen tonight. Eve climbed the dais and stopped one pace behind Blake. Her chin remained high, and a faint curve touched her mouth before she lowered her eyes respectfully toward the elders. “Blackridge requires a warrior,” Blake said, extending his hand toward her. “Someone who can command the vanguard and stand beside me in battle.” Eve placed her hand in his without hesitation. Only then did Blake look at me again. “I, Blake, Alpha of the Blackridge Pack, reject you, Selena, as my fated mate and future Luna.” Pain tore through my chest as the mate bond twisted violently inside me, as though something living had been ripped apart but not completely severed, leaving raw threads buried beneath my ribs. For one blinding moment, I could not breathe. Heat burned behind my eyes, and my knees threatened to fold beneath me. Around the altar, hundreds of wolves watched. They were waiting for me to collapse, for the wolfless orphan to cry and beg until she proved that Blake had been right to call her weak, but I swallowed against the pain and forced my spine straight. If he wanted a weak female, he had chosen the wrong day to look for one. Slowly, I slipped the antique silver band from my finger—the ring given to the Luna-in-waiting of Blackridge, engraved with the howling wolf of the pack. I climbed one more step, held the ring over the ceremonial brazier, and opened my hand. It disappeared among the glowing coals with a small metallic click. “I accept your rejection, Alpha.” My voice carried farther than I expected. For the first time that night, Blake’s composure fractured. His eyes sharpened, and a flicker of something—surprise, perhaps even doubt—crossed his face before he buried it again. Whatever reaction he had expected from me, it was not this. I turned away from him, but I had barely stepped off the dais when a deep vibration rolled through the earth, making the ancient stones beneath the sanctuary groan. Then a terrible tearing sound ripped across the night sky. Every head snapped upward. For one impossible second, nothing happened. Then the invisible barrier that had protected Blackridge for generations shimmered into view above the valley, a vast silver dome stretching from peak to peak. A thin crack appeared at its center, followed almost immediately by another, and then blinding veins of fractured light raced across the sky in jagged patterns, spreading so quickly that several elders cried out. Warriors reached for their weapons as if steel could defend them from the heavens. A thunderous crack shook the valley. Fragments of silver light peeled away from the barrier and fell toward the forest like dying stars before dissolving into darkness. Behind me, someone shouted Blake’s name, but I did not turn around. I simply walked away from the altar while Blackridge’s perfect shield broke above us, and for the first time in my life, I knew exactly what I was going to do. Before sunrise, I would be gone.