Chapter 2 - BANISHED
876 Words
The cold night air hit like a slap the moment I stepped out of the pack hall.
Behind me, the Moon Ceremony continued as if my world hadn’t just been shredded. Music swelled. Laughter rang out. Glasses clinked in celebration of the Alpha’s newest victory.
I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, right where the mate bond had been violently severed. The pain wasn’t just emotional—it burned through my veins like liquid fire. My newly awakened wolf whimpered inside me, curling into a tight, broken ball of confusion and hurt.
Only hours ago, I had felt her stir for the first time in my life. And just like that, Alpha Ryker had rejected her—rejected us—in front of the entire pack.
A broken sound escaped my throat. Not quite a sob. Not quite a laugh.
“Guess this is what it feels like,” I whispered.
Footsteps approached from behind. I didn’t turn. I already knew the scent.
“Lyra.”
My father’s voice was low. Heavy.
I faced him slowly. Beta Thomas stood under the moonlight, his face carved in harsh lines. For a long moment, he simply studied me—pale face, red-rimmed eyes, shaking shoulders.
Then he sighed. “Come with me.”
He led me away from the hall, across the moonlit courtyard and past the training grounds until the music faded into nothing. When he finally stopped, his shoulders were rigid.
“What happened tonight was… unfortunate.”
The word landed like a strike.
“Unfortunate?” My voice cracked. “He rejected me on the stage, Father. In front of everyone.”
He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You have to understand his position. Ryker is the strongest Alpha in the region. His Luna must be powerful. A warrior. Someone the pack can respect and follow.”
Each word carved deeper than the last.
“And I’m not,” I finished quietly.
He didn’t deny it.
The silence that followed told me everything. My own father—the Beta—agreed with the man who had just humiliated me.
“You’ve always been different, Lyra,” he said carefully. “Your wolf never fully manifested. The pack has noticed. The elders have noticed.”
I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. I’d heard the whispers my entire life: Weak. Broken. Disappointment.
I thought finding my mate would silence them.
Instead, it had destroyed me.
My father continued, his tone flat. “The elders met while you were outside. They’ve made their decision.”
Dread coiled in my stomach.
“You’re banishing me.”
It wasn’t a question.
His jaw tightened. “It’s for the good of the pack. Your presence would only create tension with the Alpha. We can’t afford weakness right now.”
Anger flared hot and sudden—then died just as fast. There was no point fighting. The pack had never wanted me. Tonight had simply given them the perfect excuse.
“When?” I asked.
“Tonight.”
The word punched the air out of me.
“Before sunrise,” he added. “Take only what you can carry.”
I stared at him, searching for even a flicker of regret. A crack in the Beta mask. Anything that said I’m still your daughter.
I found nothing.
“I understand,” I said coldly.
He looked almost relieved.
Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the lights and laughter of the hall, leaving me alone in the dark.
I stood there for several long minutes, letting the night wind cut across my skin. Then I moved.
My little house at the edge of the Beta district felt like a tomb. I packed in silence—two changes of clothes, dried meat, a waterskin, and my mother’s silver necklace. Nothing else mattered.
When I stepped outside again, the moon was still watching.
No one stopped me as I walked toward the forest path. No friends. No packmates. Not even a guard at the border.
I paused at the invisible line that separated pack land from the wilds. Once I crossed it, there was no going back.
For a moment, fear gripped me. I had never been outside the territory. Rogues. Humans. Other packs. The unknown stretched endlessly before me.
But then something shifted deep in my chest, not pain nor fear but a freedom, and beneath it—something else. Something sharp and ancient that my wolf stirred toward with sudden, fierce interest.
I looked back at the distant lights of the only home I had ever known.
They thought they had thrown away something weak.
They thought I would die quietly in the dark.
A cold, quiet smile touched my lips for the first time that night.
They were wrong.
I stepped across the border.
The moment my foot touched the other side, a pulse of power—raw and unfamiliar—rippled through my body. My wolf lifted her head inside me, no longer whimpering just waiting and watching.
I tightened my grip on my bag and disappeared into the trees.
One day, I will be back, and when I do, the pack that cast me out would finally understand exactly what they had thrown away.
- Writer
