Cast Out
266 Words
Lyra wandered through the forest, stumbling over roots and frozen stones, her dress torn. She didn’t remember leaving the pack grounds—her mind was too clouded with grief and rage. The moonlight barely reached through the thick canopy, casting eerie shadows.
Every sound made her flinch. A twig snapping, a rustle of leaves. She expected predators, but none approached. Still, the pack’s judgment weighed heavier than any wild beast.
“She’s shameful,” she heard whispered. “A mate rejected. No wolf. No power.”
Her chest tightened. She pressed her hand to it, feeling the absence of the bond, the echo of rejection still vibrating in her bones.
Hours passed—or maybe only minutes—before she collapsed near a moss-covered boulder. Exhaustion and despair threatened to overwhelm her, but then she felt it: a spark, small, dangerous. The blood in her veins warmed unnaturally, as if something inside her was coming alive.
Her heart pounded. Her vision shifted. Flecks of light, red and gold, danced in the air before her eyes.
Then the growl came again. Closer this time. Not wolf. Not human. Something ancient. Something tied to her bloodline.
A shadow moved behind the trees. A man. Alpha Kael Nightfang.
He didn’t approach. He didn’t speak. But his eyes… they burned into her, raw and possessive. Rage. Regret. Desire.
She wanted to turn, scream, run—but her legs wouldn’t obey. Deep inside, something ancient responded to him. The same spark that had awakened within her.
And that spark—her forbidden blood—was only the beginning.
To be continued…
- Writer
