Bound by Moonlight

Bentley pov The moon hung high above the Crescent Creek territory, casting a silver glow over the gathering below. Pack members filled the clearing with laughter, music, and dancing. Tonight was a celebration—Layla’s 18th birthday. She wore white, the traditional color of shift and awakening, her eyes sparkling with hope. Bentley stood at the edge of the festivities, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He was happy for his little sister—gods knew she deserved joy. But something twisted deep in his chest as he watched her laugh with Able. The Beta leaned in to whisper something in her ear, and then it happened. Their eyes locked. The world stilled. And then, at the exact same moment, they said it: “Mate.” A hush fell. Time suspended as their bond snapped into place, invisible but unbreakable. Bentley’s jaw clenched. His sister. His best friend. Of course, it had to be them. His wolf, Jax, snarled inside him. “Ours is still out there. Somewhere. She’s close… she has to be.” Bentley didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His Gamma, Gage, nudged his shoulder and grinned. “Another one claimed. That makes me and Jenney, Able and Layla, and… well, just you left now, Alpha.” Just him. The words echoed like a cruel joke. He’d been waiting for nearly a decade. Took over as Alpha at eighteen, younger than most, stronger than all. He’d upheld every tradition, honored every treaty, trained every warrior. And still—no mate. He’d scoured the northern packs, the coasts, the mountains. Traveled across borders, worn the skin off his wolf’s paws, hoping. Searching. Failing. Jax growled again, pacing in his mind. “We’re not meant to be alone. She’s ours. She’s out there. Why hasn’t she come to us?” Bentley slipped away from the gathering unnoticed, boots crunching against the dewy grass, until he reached the cliffs overlooking the river. The sound of rushing water drowned out the echo of celebration behind him. He tilted his head to the sky, eyes locked on the moon. “Where are you?” he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion, frustration, longing. And Jax, unable to hold it back any longer, lifted his voice to the sky and howled—a raw, aching cry that rolled across the valley and split the night in two. “Where is she?” — Lize pov Northern Minnesota — Lakewood Pack Territory The air was still. Crisp with early spring chill and thick with pine and moonlight. Lize sat alone on the boulder behind her family’s home, legs tucked beneath her, a worn hoodie pulled tight around her shoulders. The stars shimmered like scattered silver dust across the sky, but her eyes were locked on the moon. Full. Bright. Silent. She always came here when her chest ached too much to sleep. Everyone in the pack had their wolf. Her cousins shifted at sixteen. Her best friend Rory at fifteen and a half. But her? She’d be eighteen in four days—and still nothing. Not even a whisper. Her fingers tightened around the delicate charm bracelet on her wrist, the one her mother gave her on her fifteenth birthday. One charm for each year of waiting. She had seventeen. The wind stirred her hair, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t care about finding her mate. Not really. Sure, the idea sounded magical in theory—someone meant just for you, someone who would never leave, never lie, never forget. But that wasn’t what she craved. No. What Lize wanted was something much deeper. Something that kept her up at night, made her feel wrong in her own skin. She just wanted to be whole. To feel her wolf. To not be the Alpha’s daughter who was… broken. Lize drew in a breath, her voice barely louder than a whisper as she tipped her head to the stars. “Moon Goddess… please.” Her words trembled with the weight of years. “Not for a mate. Not for power. I just want her—my wolf. I just want to feel like I belong.” Silence. A cloud moved across the moon, dimming the clearing in a cool shadow. For a second, her stomach flipped—like something unseen had brushed against her soul. Her breath caught. Was it her? She stood up suddenly, heart pounding. She waited. Nothing. Just the rustle of the trees. The distant hoot of an owl. Lize sank back down onto the boulder, cheeks hot with frustration and disappointment. She pulled her knees to her chest and let her forehead rest there. She didn’t cry. She never did. Not about this. Not anymore. But far, far away—though she’d never know it—another soul cried out for her. A howl of anguish. Raw and wild. Across mountains and rivers, across packs and borders. A call from the Alpha she was born for. A call meant for her. And somewhere deep inside her—still silent, still waiting—her wolf stirred. Just once.