The Moon Goddess lied

THE FIRST NAME

CHAPTER THREE

"Destiny does not knock before entering your life. It simply opens the door and leaves you to discover what was waiting on the other side."

Elder Orien lowered his staff.

For one suspended moment, nothing happened.

Then the crystal at its tip flickered.

A silver pulse traveled through the ancient stone beneath his feet.

The runes carved into the altar awakened one after another, their pale glow spreading across the surface like veins of moonlight. The crystal basin at the center of the altar trembled softly.

A hush descended over the sanctuary.

Auren barely noticed the hundreds of wolves surrounding her anymore.

Her attention was fixed on the altar.

This was it.

The moment every young wolf in Blackwood had dreamed about.

The moment they had been taught to anticipate since childhood.

The Awakening.

Somewhere beside her, Elara released a nervous breath.

"Here we go."

Auren glanced at her.

For once, Elara wasn't smiling.

Mira reached for Auren's hand and squeezed it gently.

"Whatever happens, don't forget to breathe."

Auren almost laughed.

"That's your advice?"

"It's good advice."

Elara nodded solemnly.

"Very important. Breathing is generally considered useful."

Auren's lips curved despite herself.

For a moment, the fear loosened its grip.

Then Elder Orien spoke.

"Bring forth the first candidate."

Two ceremonial warriors stepped forward.

One carried a silver lantern. The other approached the ancient table where the candidates' names had been recorded on a parchment sealed with Blackwood's crest.

The parchment was old.

Older than Auren.

Perhaps older than her parents.

The warrior carried it to Elder Orien and bowed before placing it into his hands.

The elder unfolded it.

His eyes traveled slowly down the first column.

"Lysander Ash."

A young man near the front of the gathering stiffened.

His mother immediately reached out to take his hand.

"You'll be fine," she whispered.

Lysander gave a nervous smile.

"I'm not so sure."

His father placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't need to be sure."

The older man smiled.

"Just listen to your wolf."

Lysander nodded.

Then he stepped forward.

The crowd parted as he walked toward the altar.

Auren knew him.

Most of Blackwood did.

Lysander wasn't a celebrated warrior or the son of some influential Alpha. He was simply Lysander—quiet, dependable, and far more comfortable working in the training fields than standing in the center of everyone's attention.

Tonight, however, every eye was on him.

He climbed the altar.

Elder Orien gestured toward the crystal basin.

"Place your hands in the moonwater."

Lysander hesitated.

Then obeyed.

His fingers touched the surface.

Nothing happened.

The sanctuary held its breath.

Auren watched the reflection of the moon tremble beneath Lysander's hands.

One second passed.

Then two.

Then five.

Whispers began to spread through the crowd.

Lysander's expression tightened.

His shoulders fell slightly.

Perhaps the Moon Goddess had chosen not to awaken him.

Then—

His eyes widened.

Auren saw his lips move.

No sound came out.

"What is it?" Elder Orien asked.

Lysander looked up.

His eyes were shining.

"I can hear him."

A collective gasp swept through the sanctuary.

The moonwater erupted in silver light.

It curled around Lysander's arms before disappearing into his chest.

He staggered.

The warrior beside him caught his shoulder.

But Lysander barely noticed.

He was smiling.

Not the nervous smile he'd worn moments earlier.

A genuine one.

The kind that came from somewhere deeper than happiness.

"My wolf," he whispered.

A tear slipped down his cheek.

"He's been there all this time."

The sanctuary erupted.

Cheers thundered beneath the ancient trees.

His mother rushed toward him, laughing and crying at the same time, while his father pulled them both into an embrace.

Auren smiled.

She couldn't help it.

There was something beautiful about watching someone discover a part of themselves they had never been able to reach before.

"That's what it looks like," Elara whispered.

Auren glanced at her.

"What?"

"Finding your wolf."

Mira watched Lysander descend from the altar.

"Or finding yourself."

Auren's smile faded slightly.

She looked toward the moon.

Finding yourself.

Why did those words suddenly feel like a warning?

She lowered her gaze to the pendant around her neck.

Cold.

The strange warmth was gone.

Auren frowned.

For a moment, she wondered whether she'd imagined it.

Then another name was called.

"Marissa Hale."

A young woman stepped forward.

This awakening happened almost immediately.

Silver light burst from the basin, followed by a sharp gasp from Marissa.

Her eyes flew toward the crowd.

Someone stood there staring back at her.

Auren followed her gaze.

A young man had gone completely still.

His hand was pressed against his chest.

Neither of them moved.

Then Marissa smiled.

The young man smiled back.

A chorus of delighted voices rose from the crowd.

Their mates had found each other.

The ceremony continued.

Name after name.

Wolf after wolf.

Some awakened instantly.

Some struggled.

Some discovered their mates waiting among the crowd.

Others found only the voice of their wolf.

The night slowly transformed from anticipation into celebration.

Yet Auren couldn't enjoy it.

The closer her turn came, the heavier the strange sensation in her chest became.

She watched the parchment grow shorter.

Six names remained.

Then five.

Four.

Auren's fingers curled around her pendant.

Elara noticed.

"Stop doing that."

Auren looked at her.

"Doing what?"

"Trying to crush the pendant."

Auren glanced down.

Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the moonstone.

She released it.

"I didn't realize."

Mira's eyes remained on the altar.

"Your name is close."

Auren swallowed.

"I know."

Three names.

Two.

The sanctuary seemed to grow quieter with every name Elder Orien called.

The moon had climbed higher now, bathing the altar in a strange silver brilliance.

Auren could hear her heartbeat.

One final candidate stood between her and the altar.

Elara moved closer.

"Hey."

Auren looked at her.

"You'll be okay."

Auren wanted to believe her.

She really did.

But somewhere deep inside, that ancient voice stirred again.

Not loud enough to hear.

Just enough to feel.

Run.

Auren closed her eyes.

Not now.

She opened them again.

The final candidate stepped forward.

The moonwater shimmered.

Silver light rose.

The crowd cheered.

Then silence returned.

Elder Orien reached for the parchment.

He didn't immediately speak.

His eyes remained fixed on the final name.

Something about his expression changed.

It was subtle.

Almost imperceptible.

But Auren saw it.

The elder's fingers tightened around the parchment.

His gaze lifted.

Slowly, he looked across the sanctuary.

Past the warriors.

Past the elders.

Past the families.

Until his eyes found hers.

Auren's breath caught.

There was something in his expression she couldn't understand.

Not surprise.

Not pride.

Fear.

For the first time that night, Elder Orien looked afraid.

Auren's stomach twisted.

Why?

Why was he looking at her like that?

The elder lowered his gaze to the parchment one last time.

Then he spoke.

"Auren Vale."

Her name echoed through the sanctuary.

Every conversation died.

Every face turned toward her.

Auren couldn't move.

The moonstone against her chest suddenly became scorching hot.

Then came the growl.

Low.

Ancient.

Powerful.

It wasn't coming from the wolves surrounding her.

It wasn't coming from the forest.

It wasn't even coming from the wolf she had known all her life.

It came from somewhere deeper.

Somewhere she had never reached before.

Auren's eyes widened.

And then, for the first time in eight years...

One of the three wolves from her dreams spoke.

"Finally."