The Stolen Mate

Chapter 2 - Wrong Mate

Selene

The hall was already packed when I descended the stairs. Wolves pressed shoulder to shoulder, their scents tangling in the heavy air: musk and pine, steel and earth, the thrum of barely-leashed energy. It should have comforted me. This was my pack. My family.

Instead, it felt like walking into a cage.

Father stood at the front, near the circle marked in chalk and silver dust. His posture was perfect, shoulders squared, his Beta close at his side. He glanced at me once as I approached, a flick of his cold gray eyes, before turning away to exchange words with another Alpha.

That was it. No smile. No pride. No concern.

Just a reminder that I was little more than a duty to him. A piece on the board he could maneuver, sacrifice, or discard as needed.

Lilith, of course, glittered at his side, her pale hair braided back with tiny pearls, her gown falling in pristine lines that made her look like a goddess already descended. Her hand lingered on Father’s arm as if she belonged there, as if she hadn’t just gutted me with whatever poison she’d poured down my throat.

Her gaze slid to me as I approached, lips curving. A smile that wasn’t a smile. A blade dressed in velvet.

My pulse stuttered. The fire in my veins roared, and still—silence where Luna should have been.

I wanted to scream.

But the drums began to beat, low and steady, vibrating through the floor, calling us forward.

The circle was already buzzing when I stumbled in, sweat still slick on my skin, hair damp and clinging to my face. The pack’s eyes didn’t just linger - they pierced. Whispers floated over the ceremonial floor like knives.

“Selene…” someone murmured. “You’re late.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. “I… I’m here,” I croaked. My throat was raw, my heart hammering so violently I feared it might burst.

The Alpha, my father, barely spared me a glance. His silver eyes swept past me like I was nothing more than a candle guttering in a storm.

“Well,” he said, dismissive, “you’d better be ready. The Goddess does not wait.”

I tried, I really did. I lifted my chin and inhaled through the rising panic. My wolf should have been with me, a steady drum of guidance beneath my skin. But Luna was gone. My scent was gone. Replaced by hers. Lilith’s.

I opened my mouth. “Father… something’s wrong. My wolf - my scent - it’s-”

“Don’t interrupt the ceremony,” he snapped. No hint of concern. Just cold, sharp authority. My stomach twisted, a dry bitterness clawing at my throat.

Lilith glided forward like a shadow stitched from moonlight. Her smile was slow, deliberate, triumphant. She didn’t even glance at me. I was invisible, a shadow of her brilliance. “I think you’ll find everything is… perfectly arranged,” she purred.

My blood froze. Everything was arranged. My humiliation, my stolen scent, my vanished wolf - it all led to this moment.

What on the Goddess she wanted ?

“Selene,” my mother’s voice - sharper than I remembered - cut through my thoughts. “Try to maintain some dignity. Stand there like a proper wolf.”

Every eye turned toward me. The pack waited. The air was thick with expectation, anticipation, hunger. Somewhere out there, my mate waited to scent me, to claim me, to change my life forever.

My chest rose, fell, rose again. My nails dug into my palms.

A ripple passed through the crowd. Wolves stiffened. Heads turned. Someone had scented me.

My heart leapt - only to plummet a second later as a shadow fell across the circle.

Lilith stepped forward.

Her lips curved as the crowd stirred, a ripple of recognition sweeping through them. And in that instant, I knew.

They smelled her. Not me.

The elders gathered in the sacred circle, robes rustling like leaves in a storm. One stepped forward - a woman with silver-streaked hair, eyes sharp as flint. The master of the ceremony. Her gaze pinned me.

“Selene,” she said. Calm, firm. “You are trembling. Focus. Listen to your heart. Let it guide you.”

“I… I can’t,” I whispered. “Luna’s gone. My scent - it’s-”

The elder tilted her head. “Gone, or hidden?”

“Hidden. She’s stolen it. Taken everything!” I choked.

“The bond is not lost,” the elder said, eyes narrowing - not at me, but somewhere beyond, where threads of fate twisted. “Wolves are stronger than scent alone. You only need to reach deeper.”

I wanted to scream. To demand someone fix this. But the circle waited. My wolf was silent. My scent stolen.

And then I saw him.

Damian. The rival Alpha. He descended from the balcony, every step commanding attention, his presence slicing through the tension like a blade. My heart stuttered. Mate.

But Lilith’s scent clung to him too, subtle, binding. He looked at her once, then me, a flicker of something restrained, unreadable.

“Do not let what you see - or smell - distract you,” the elder warned. “If your heart knows the truth, the bond will reveal itself.”

I swallowed hard. I could barely breathe. “I don’t know if I can,” I admitted.

“Then you will let fear guide you?” She stepped closer, brushing the air near my temple. “I will help you reach her - your wolf. Focus. Only the bond that cannot be stolen matters.”

I closed my eyes. A faint tug - Luna. But it vanished, replaced by the sharp sweetness of Lilith.

The elder’s hand lingered. “It is there. You are not defeated. Your wolf waits. And so does your mate. Claim him with your truth, not what has been stolen.”

I opened my eyes. Damian stood at the center, watching the ceremony, his wolf restrained, the tension thick in the air. My heart thundered. He is mine. Stolen scent or not, he was mine. Somehow, some way, the Goddess had not forsaken me.

The circle hummed with energy as Damian stepped forward, his gaze scanning the pack. My chest tightened. Every instinct screamed at me to move toward him, to reach him - but the sharp perfume of Lilith wrapped around him like a leash I couldn’t cut.

Lilith’s smile widened, slow, predatory. She glided into the center, shoulders back, chin lifted, eyes sparkling with triumph. Every head in the room followed her. Even the elders’ whispers faltered. She had stolen more than my scent; she had stolen the stage.

Damian paused, just a fraction longer than necessary, inhaling. His gaze flicked to me - then Lilith - and something unspoken passed between them. My stomach plummeted.

“She’s… strong,” the elder murmured under her breath, almost to herself.

I tried to step forward, to make some claim, any claim - but the circle’s invisible rules pinned me in place. My hands trembled at my sides. Every eye in the pack burned into me, and I realized, with a stomach-turning dread, that they believed what they saw: Lilith, radiant, claiming what was rightfully mine.

“Alpha Damian,” Lilith’s voice rang out, clear, commanding, and my blood froze. She didn’t just speak; she drew the attention like a blade of sunlight through the gloom. “I am ready.”

Damian’s wolf twitched beneath his skin, restrained but restless. He inhaled again, and my own wolf cried out silently inside me, desperate to surge forth - but it was blocked, muted, drowned beneath Lilith’s scent.

The pack exhaled collectively, a wave of recognition. I felt their surprise, their awe, their silent agreement. They smelled what my wolf could no longer reach: Lilith.

“By the Goddess, the bond…,” the elder began, hesitant, frowning, sensing the disruption.

“Wait,” I whispered, my voice ragged, raw. “This isn’t right! He-he’s mine!”

“Shh,” Lilith cooed, her hand brushing Damian’s arm in a mock caress, eyes locked on his. “You’ll thank me later.”

Damian’s jaw clenched, his wolf stirring, but the subtle pull of Lilith’s stolen scent anchored him. My chest ached as he reached toward her, extending a hand that should have sought me, and yet didn’t.

The crowd murmured approval, sensing the bond they could perceive. My humiliation flared like a brand. Every whisper, every glance, every twitch of a tail shouted my defeat.

“Selene,” the elder said gently, almost soothing, “focus. Do not let what is stolen define you. Your wolf is still with you. Your bond is still alive.”

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, tasting blood. “She’s… she’s stolen everything!”

“Yes,” the elder admitted softly, “for now. But you are not done.”

Damian’s eyes, so impossibly steady, met mine for a fleeting heartbeat. There - hidden beneath the haze of scent and the crowd’s weight - I saw something: recognition. Resistance. His wolf struggling against Lilith’s claim. My throat tightened. My lungs burned.

But Lilith did not hesitate. She slid her hand fully into his, her smile sharp and victorious. “I accept,” she whispered.

The pack exhaled. Damian’s wolf emitted a low, confused growl - but his body remained still, restrained by the subtle tether of Lilith’s stolen power. My ears rang with the sound of my own failure.

I wanted to scream, to fight, to claw back what was mine. Instead, I stood frozen, chest heaving, heart shattering, as Lilith soaked in the triumph. Every eye was on her. Every whisper a dagger. Every heartbeat a reminder that tonight, the Goddess had allowed this humiliation.

The ceremony was over for me...