Rejected Under the Blood Moon

The moon hated Elara Vale. There really wasn't another reasonable explanation. She had considered several. Bad genetics. A childhood curse. A cosmic misunderstanding. Perhaps the Moon Goddess had accidentally skipped her name while handing out wolves and had been too embarrassed to admit the mistake. Whatever the reason, Elara was twenty-four years old, born inside one of the largest werewolf packs in North America, and she still couldn't shift. Tonight, somehow, that wasn't even her biggest problem. “Elara.” She stopped walking. Her best friend rushed behind her through the enormous stone hallway of Nightfall's pack house. “Elara, wait.” Elara squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she didn't turn around, Lyra Blackthorne would disappear. “Elara!” No such luck. She slowly faced her. Lyra stood barefoot several feet away, holding a silver high heel in each hand. Her normally perfect blonde curls were already escaping from the elaborate style she'd spent nearly two hours creating. “You're leaving?” “Excellent observation.” “Don't do that.” “Do what?” “That thing where you're sarcastic because you're upset.” Elara continued toward the staircase. “I am not upset.” “You're walking toward the servants' staircase.” Elara stopped. Damn. She glanced toward the narrow staircase. Then toward the enormous grand staircase approximately twenty feet behind her. “Maybe I wanted the scenic route.” “Elara.” “Lyra.” Her friend stared at her. Elara lasted four seconds. “Fine.” She dropped onto the nearest bench. “I hate this.” Lyra sat beside her. “I know.” “No. You don't.” “El—” “Tonight is the Blood Moon Ceremony. Every unmated wolf between eighteen and thirty is downstairs hoping they'll find their mate, and I'm hiding beside the laundry stairs because half the pack is waiting to see if the defective little wolfless girl embarrasses herself.” “You are not defective.” “Tell them that.” “I have.” “And?” Lyra grimaced. “Repeatedly.” “Exactly.” Music drifted from downstairs. Hundreds of voices blended beneath it. Nightfall celebrated the Blood Moon once every ten years. The occasion was important for every werewolf, but especially unmated wolves. Mate senses became stronger beneath a blood moon. Bonds that ordinarily required direct physical proximity could activate from across an entire ballroom. For months, everyone had been talking about tonight. Who would find whom? Which families would join? Would neighboring Alphas discover powerful Lunas? Would old alliances strengthen? Would rival packs become family? Elara had pretended not to care. That had been a lie. She wanted a mate more desperately than she wanted to admit. Not because she needed a man. She had survived twenty-four years without one. She wanted what the mate bond represented. One person created by fate to recognize her soul before seeing everything Nightfall considered wrong with her. Someone who wouldn't care that she had never shifted. Someone who wouldn't whisper wolfless when she entered a room. Someone who wouldn't look at her with pity. Someone who would choose her. Automatically. Completely. Forever. Pathetic? Maybe. But after spending most of her life feeling unwanted, Elara allowed herself one foolish dream. Lyra nudged her shoulder. “You look beautiful.” Elara glanced down at her dress. The deep emerald fabric hugged her waist before flowing to the floor. Tiny crystals had been sewn along the sleeves, sparkling whenever she moved. “You have to say that.” “Why?” “You're my best friend.” “I'd tell you if you looked terrible.” “You told me the purple dress looked good.” “It did.” “I looked like an eggplant.” “A beautiful eggplant.” Elara laughed despite herself. Lyra smiled triumphantly. “There she is.” The happiness lasted until footsteps echoed behind them. Elara recognized them before she turned. Her body always recognized him. Kael Blackthorne. The future Alpha of Nightfall. Lyra's older brother. And the reason Elara had secretly compared every man she'd ever met to someone who had never belonged to her. Kael stepped into the corridor wearing black dress pants and a black button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Unfair. Completely unfair. The man could have at least possessed one physical flaw. A crooked nose. A strange mole. Terrible teeth. Something. Instead, the Moon Goddess had apparently used every remaining blessing she forgot to give Elara on Kael. Six-foot-four. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Gray eyes. Muscles that made perfectly intelligent women temporarily lose their ability to form sentences. His gaze moved from Lyra to Elara. Then stopped. Elara's heartbeat stumbled. Kael didn't speak. His eyes slowly traveled over her dress before returning to her face. For one ridiculous second, she imagined something changed in his expression. Heat. Interest. Want. Then his familiar mask returned. “You're both supposed to be downstairs.” Lyra groaned. “You're not Alpha yet.” “No. But Father sent me.” “Which somehow makes you more annoying.” Kael ignored his sister. His attention remained on Elara. “You okay?” Three words. Completely ordinary. Still, warmth spread through Elara's chest. Kael had always been different with her. Not affectionate. Definitely not romantic. But different. When they were children and other wolves teased her because she couldn't shift, Kael had broken a boy's nose. When Elara turned sixteen and spent an entire night crying after her wolf failed to appear, Kael had sat outside her bedroom door until morning. He hadn't spoken. He had simply stayed. When she turned eighteen without shifting, he'd secretly convinced his father to allow her to remain a full pack member even though several elders wanted her reclassified as human-born. Kael had never promised her anything. That hadn't stopped her stupid heart from loving him. “I'm fine,” she said. His eyes narrowed. “You're lying.” “Apparently everyone has developed the ability to read my mind tonight.” “No. You scratch your wrist when you're anxious.” Elara immediately stopped scratching. Kael's mouth twitched. Lyra looked between them. Then smiled. Not a normal smile. A dangerous one. Elara knew that smile. “No.” Lyra widened her eyes innocently. “I didn't say anything.” “You were about to.” “Was not.” “Whatever you're thinking, stop.” Kael frowned. “What is she thinking?” “Nothing.” “Something.” “Nothing.” Lyra stood. “Actually, I suddenly remembered somewhere else I need to be.” Elara grabbed her wrist. “You absolutely do not.” Lyra slipped free. “See you downstairs.” “Lyra.” “Love you!” “Lyra!” She disappeared around the corner. Traitor. Silence settled between Elara and Kael. She stared at the floor. Kael stared at her. Or maybe he wasn't staring. Maybe she only desperately wanted him to be. “You really do look beautiful.” Her head snapped up. Kael looked almost uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean...the dress.” “The dress is beautiful?” “You are.” Elara forgot how lungs worked. Kael cleared his throat. “We should go downstairs.” Of course. Because heaven forbid the man allow her five uninterrupted seconds of hope. “Right.” He offered his arm. Elara stared at it. Kael raised one eyebrow. “What?” “Nothing.” “Then take my arm.” “I know how stairs work.” “Elara.” She smiled. Then placed her hand around his arm. That tiny contact shouldn't have mattered. It did. They walked toward the ballroom. With each step the music became louder. So did Elara's heartbeat. She had imagined this night since she was eighteen. The Blood Moon. Her mate. Her future. Maybe tonight, everything changed. They reached the enormous double doors. Kael paused. “Whatever happens in there—” A scream erupted from inside. Both of them froze. The ballroom doors flew open. A young woman stumbled into the corridor laughing hysterically. “I found him!” People cheered behind her. Her newly discovered mate chased her into the hallway and wrapped his arms around her waist. The woman squealed. Everyone applauded. Elara smiled despite the ache inside her chest. Kael watched her. “You want that?” She didn't pretend to misunderstand. “Yes.” His jaw tightened. “Why?” The question surprised her. “Don't you?” He looked toward the ballroom. “Being told by fate who you're supposed to spend your entire life with seems like a terrible system.” Elara laughed softly. “That's romantic.” “I'm serious.” “So am I.” His gaze returned to her. “What if the Goddess chooses wrong?” “She doesn't.” “How do you know?” “Because it's fate.” “That isn't an answer.” “It is to me.” Something strange crossed his face. Before Elara could ask about it, the enormous grandfather clock inside the ballroom began chiming. Eleven o'clock. Lyra rushed toward them. “Come on! It's starting.” Kael stepped through the doors. Elara followed. And everything changed. The ballroom was enormous. Hundreds of wolves stood beneath crystal chandeliers while moonlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows. At the center of the room sat a circular opening in the glass ceiling. Directly above it hung the blood moon. Red. Beautiful. Terrifying. Alpha Darius Blackthorne stood on the elevated platform. “Nightfall!” The room quieted instantly. “Tonight we honor the Moon Goddess and the sacred bonds she created between our people.” Elara moved closer to Lyra. Her palms were sweating. “Breathe,” Lyra whispered. “I am breathing.” “Barely.” Darius continued speaking. Elara heard almost none of it. Something felt wrong. Not dangerous. Different. A warmth had begun spreading beneath her skin. She rubbed her chest. Lyra noticed. “You okay?” “Yeah.” The warmth increased. Then came a scent. Cedar. Rain. Smoke. Elara froze. No. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Impossible. She inhaled again. Cedar. Rain. Smoke. The scent was intoxicating. Her entire body responded. Her pulse quickened. Heat rushed through her. Something buried deep inside her chest seemed to wake after twenty-four years of silence. One word whispered through her mind. Mate. Elara stopped breathing. Lyra grabbed her arm. “Elara?” She couldn't answer. The scent became stronger. She slowly turned. Several feet away stood Kael. Staring directly at her. His face had lost all color. Elara's heart stopped. No. Yes. No. It couldn't— Kael inhaled. His pupils expanded. The glass in his hand shattered. Blood dripped between his fingers. No one seemed to notice. Elara certainly didn't. Because every impossible dream she'd ever hidden inside herself was suddenly standing across the ballroom looking just as terrified as she felt. Kael. Her Kael. Her childhood protector. Her secret love. Her mate. Tears filled her eyes. The Moon Goddess hadn't forgotten her. She hadn't been abandoned. She hadn't been created wrong. For once— For once— Fate had chosen Elara Vale. Kael started toward her. One step. Two. Three. Elara smiled through her tears. Then Kael stopped. His expression changed. Confusion appeared first. Then fear. His eyes flickered black. Elara's smile disappeared. “Kael?” He grabbed his head. Lyra rushed toward him. “Kael!” Several wolves turned. Kael stumbled backward. His father descended from the platform. “What happened?” Kael stared at Elara. Something invisible seemed to move through the ballroom. A cold breeze touched her neck. Except there were no open windows. Elara shivered. Across the room, Maeve Thorne dropped her wineglass. It shattered against the floor. The witch stared at Elara. Not surprised. Terrified. “Maeve?” Elara whispered. Kael growled. Every conversation stopped. His voice came rough. Almost unrecognizable. “No.” Elara looked at him. “What?” Kael's breathing became heavier. “No.” His father followed his stare. Understanding spread across Darius Blackthorne's face. Then disgust. “No,” Kael repeated. Elara's happiness collapsed. “Kael…” He looked at her as though she had become something horrifying. Something dangerous. Something he needed to escape. The entire pack was watching now. Kael's next words came loud enough for every wolf in the ballroom to hear. “Elara Vale.” Her heart began breaking before he finished. “I, Kael Blackthorne, future Alpha of the Nightfall Pack…” Lyra covered her mouth. “Kael, don't.” “…reject you…” Elara couldn't breathe. “…as my mate…” Something ripped through her chest. She screamed. “…and future Luna.” Elara dropped to her knees. Pain unlike anything she had ever experienced tore through her body. People gasped. Someone shouted Kael's name. Lyra ran toward her. But Elara barely heard them. Because underneath the agony— underneath her breaking heart— underneath twenty-four years of silence— something growled. Not around her. Inside her. Elara's eyes flew open. Every light in the ballroom exploded. Darkness swallowed the room. And somewhere beyond the windows, deep inside Nightfall Forest, hundreds of wolves began to howl. But they weren't answering Kael. They were answering her.