The wolf-less Queen:Rise of the lunar healer

Sarafina’s POV “I, Alpha Killian, reject you, Sarafina Blackwood, as my mate and future Luna.” Five hundred wolves watched him crown my sister instead. The bond didn’t just break—it shattered. I felt it tear through my chest like a blade made of ice and broken promises, ripping apart something I didn’t even know could be destroyed. My knees hit the stone platform hard enough to crack, but I couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel anything except the fire spreading through my ribs where the mate bond used to be. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but wrap my arms around myself and try to hold the pieces together while everything inside screamed. “Look at her,” Killian said, his voice carrying across the clearing like a pronouncement from a judge. Cold. Final. “No wolf. No strength. The Moon Goddess must’ve been drunk when she made this match.” Five hundred wolves. Not one of them looked away. They wanted this—the blood, the spectacle, the slaughter. This was better than any normal Mating Moon ceremony. “A Luna is power,” Killian continued, talking to the crowd now like I wasn’t there dying at his feet. “She gives the pack its next warriors. Protects our territory. This—” I felt him gesture at me without looking, “—can’t do any of that. I won’t poison my bloodline with a broken wolf.” Broken The word hit like a slap, cutting through even the agony of the severed bond. Through the haze of pain, I heard fabric rustling. Then Killian’s voice again, warmer this time. Tender. “Elara Blackwood. You’re worthy of Silver Moon. You’ll be my Luna.” My sister’s delighted gasp hurt worse than the rejection. “Yes, Alpha,” she breathed. The crowd erupted. Cheering. Howling. Celebrating my replacement before I’d even gotten off the platform. I forced my head up, blinking through tears I hadn’t realized were falling. Killian had his arm around Elara’s waist, pulling her close like she already belonged to him. My sister—my older sister who’d spent twenty-three years teaching me exactly where I ranked in this world—melted into him. All golden hair and perfect genetics, everything I wasn’t. Over his shoulder, she met my eyes. And smiled. Not her public smile. Not the one she showed the pack. This was private. Satisfied. Victorious. Like she’d been waiting for this exact moment her whole life. The realization cut through even the pain. She’d planned this. Somehow, she’d known. Maybe she’d always known. “Father.” Killian’s voice snapped me back to the nightmare. “Deal with your broken daughter.” The crowd split apart like a wound opening. My father stepped through—Beta Gareth Blackwood, third in command, keeper of pack law. For one awful second, our eyes locked. I saw it. The crack in his armor. Something that might’ve been grief flickered across his face, there and gone so fast I might’ve imagined it. His hand twitched at his side like he wanted to reach for me. Like maybe the man who used to call me his moonbeam was still in there somewhere, buried under years of disappointment and duty. Then he looked at Killian. At the Alpha who controlled his rank, his home, his entire life. The crack sealed shut. His jaw tightened. His eyes went flat. “Alpha Killian’s right.” The words came out measured. Careful. Like he was reading from a script he’d rehearsed. “You’re a disgrace to the Blackwood name, Sarafina.” He paused. Swallowed. His eyes finally slid away from mine. “Your rank is gone. Your pack ties are cut. You’re Rogue.” Rogue. The word that meant death. Whispers spread through the crowd like poison. No one would look at me now. In their eyes, I’d already disappeared. Already dead. I was twenty-three years old. I’d spent every single one of those years trying to be worthy. Trying to be enough. Scrubbing floors and swallowing insults and hoping—always hoping—that one day they’d see past what I lacked and recognize what I had. But the wolfless don’t get happy endings. I’d learned that at six years old when my wolf never showed up. “You’ve got until sunrise,” Killian said, adjusting his grip on Elara with casual ease. Like he hadn’t just ripped my world apart. Like I was already forgotten. “Get off our land before dawn, or we’ll hunt you down.” I got to my feet on shaking legs. The pain had settled into something huge and hollow, but underneath it, something else was growing. Something cold. Something hard. “You think strength only comes from teeth and claws?” My voice came out steady. Even I was surprised. “Hope that works out for you, Alpha, when the darkness comes.” Killian’s ice-blue eyes flashed. “Are you threatening me?” “Just telling you what’s coming.” I didn’t know where the words were coming from. They felt borrowed. Ancient. Like something was speaking through me. “You threw something away tonight. You’re going to spend the rest of your life wishing you hadn’t.” For just a second, something passed across his face. Not regret. Uncertainty, maybe. Like somewhere deep down, beneath all that arrogance, a tiny voice was asking what if? Then it was gone. “The only thing I threw away was garbage.” He turned his back on me. Done. Finished. “Someone take her to the border.” Guards appeared on either side of me. They didn’t grab—didn’t need to. I walked on my own, head up, while my old pack watched in silence. The last thing I saw before the forest swallowed me was Elara. Still in Killian’s arms. Still smiling that private, victorious smile. Three months, I thought, though I didn’t know why. You have three months. Then the celebration sounds faded behind me, and ahead, the Dead Lands waited. -