BROKEN HOWL

Chapter 1: Shattered Vows

The moonlight sliced through the ancient pines like a silver blade, cold and unforgiving. Torches flickered around the sacred clearing, casting long, dancing shadows over the gathered pack. Hundreds of eyes watched. Waiting. Judging.

Matilda Voss stood at the center of it all, her simple white gown clinging to her frame from the damp night air. A faint scar cut across her left eyebrow …the one she’d earned the night Williams first claimed her as his. It itched now, under the weight of every stare.

Williams Draven, Alpha of the Nightshade Pack, stepped forward. Tall. Broad. Every inch the predator he was born to be. His black ceremonial robes hung open at the chest, revealing the jagged scars that marked his own battles. His jaw was set like stone, eyes burning with that familiar storm.

He didn’t look at her with the heat she’d once seen. Not tonight.

“Matilda Voss,” he said, voice low and rough, carrying across the clearing without effort. “The moon has spoken. Our bond… it is rejected.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Someone dropped a torch. The flame hissed against wet leaves.

Matilda’s stomach twisted. She felt the bond the invisible thread that had pulled her toward him since they were pups snap like a brittle bone. Pain shot through her chest, sharp enough to steal her breath. But she didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. Not yet.

She lifted her chin instead. “Rejected?”

The word came out quieter than she wanted. Hoarse.

Williams’ gaze finally met hers. There was no apology in it. Only ice. “You heard me. The pack needs strength. Not… this.” His hand flicked toward her, dismissive. “A half-blood with no real power. Your mother’s line was weak. It ends here.”

Whispers erupted. Louder now. Cruel laughs from the back Liora, the sleek beta female who had been circling Williams for months, didn’t even try to hide her smirk.

Matilda’s hands clenched at her sides. The fabric of her gown bunched between her fingers. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, the burn behind her eyes. But beneath it, something colder stirred. Something that had always been there, buried under years of quiet loyalty.

“You’re really doing this?” she asked, stepping closer. Her voice cracked on the last word, but she pushed through. “In front of everyone? After everything we—”

“Enough.” Williams cut her off, sharp as a whip. He turned slightly toward the pack, raising his voice. “The mating ceremony is canceled. Matilda Voss is no longer under my protection. She will leave Nightshade territory by dawn.”

The words landed like blows. Each one harder than the last.

She stared at him. Really stared. The way his fingers twitched at his sides the only sign he wasn’t as calm as he looked. The slight flare of his nostrils. The way he avoided looking at the scar on her brow for too long.

“You coward,” she whispered. It slipped out before she could stop it. Raw. Messy.

Williams’ head snapped back to her. For a split second, something flickered in his eyes regret? Anger? Pain? It was gone too fast to name.

“Watch your tongue,” he growled, stepping into her space. Close enough that she caught the scent of pine and smoke on him. The same scent that used to make her knees weak. “Or I’ll make sure you don’t leave at all.”

Matilda didn’t back down. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might crack her ribs, but she held his gaze. “Then do it. Kill me here. In front of them all. Show them what kind of Alpha you really are.”

Silence fell. Heavy. Suffocating.

Liora laughed softly from the sidelines. “Pathetic.”

Williams’ hand shot out, grabbing Matilda’s wrist. His grip was bruising. Hot. “You think this is a game? I’m protecting the pack. From you. From whatever weakness you carry.”

She yanked her arm free, stumbling back a step. The pain in her chest flared brighter, mixing with the sting in her wrist. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them back hard. “Protecting them? Or protecting yourself? Because you’re scared, Williams. Scared that if you let me in, I might actually see the broken mess you are.”

His face darkened. A muscle jumped in his jaw. For a moment, she thought he might shift right there rip through his robes and tear into her with claws and fangs.

Instead, he turned away. Dismissed her like she was nothing.

“Get her out of my sight,” he ordered the warriors nearby. His voice was flat now. Dead.

Two large males stepped forward, grabbing her arms. Matilda didn’t fight them. Not physically. But as they dragged her toward the edge of the clearing, she looked back over her shoulder.

Williams stood alone under the moonlight, shoulders rigid, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

She smiled then. Small. Bitter. Broken.

But not defeated.

Not anymore.

As the trees swallowed her and the sounds of the pack faded behind her, Matilda pressed a hand to her stomach. The secret she hadn’t told him yet the one growing inside her for the past six weeks burned like a promise.

He thought he’d broken her.

He had no idea what he’d just unleashed.