My Moonlit Declaration

Chapter 6: The Moon Chose Her

He finally spoke. His voice was low, calm, and clear, echoing throughout the entire sacred altar.

The world came to a complete standstill.

Elara felt as if the entire world had stopped turning in that instant. Those few words pierced her heart like a sharp blade.

The moonlight still swirled around them, and the mate resonance continued, but the silver thread connecting her to him felt as though it had been ruthlessly snapped by his own hand.

"I reject this pairing bestowed by the Moon." His tone was without hesitation, bone-chillingly cold. As if this mate resonance — powerful enough to shake the entire Snow Moon Clan — was nothing more than a minor inconvenience he needed to deal with.

Elara barely had time to react. All she could hear was a deafening buzz rising in her ears.

"Refuse?"

"In the history of the Snow Moon Clan, no one has ever publicly rejected the Moon’s blessing!"

"Has our leader gone mad?"

"She... was rejected?"

A wave of suppressed commotion erupted around the sacred altar.

These voices exploded in Elara’s ears, yet they felt muffled and distant, as if separated by a layer of water.

Elara stood rooted to the spot, her fingertips ice-cold, and even breathing became difficult.

She stared at Kael, desperately searching for even the slightest hint of hesitation, doubt, or wavering on his face. But there was nothing. His expression remained cold and distant, as if what he had just said was nothing more than an ordinary judgment.

The elders fell into brief chaos: the Holy Elder was furious, the Great Elder was stunned, and the rest whispered among themselves.

The layer of water-like film over Elara’s ears made everything sound distant and muffled. She only knew one thing—

The Moon had not withdrawn its choice?!

Yet he had personally—rejected her!

The air seemed to freeze into ice in an instant. The mate bond continued to burn fiercely inside Elara, as if mocking her overreach and presumption!

So even though the Moon had chosen her, Elara was still—not worthy!!

Slowly lowering her eyelids, she clenched her fists tightly. Her nails dug deep into her palms, but she felt no pain at all.

Her lashes blocked out the moonlight, shielded her face, and hid her from everyone’s gaze.

Don’t cry.

She told herself silently.

Tears were the most fragile and useless thing in this world!!

But the light of the sacred altar was too bright—so bright that she wanted to run away.

Just when she thought she would collapse on the spot, Kael suddenly shifted his gaze away. In that fleeting moment, Elara caught an extremely subtle flicker in the depths of his eyes—so fast it almost felt like an illusion.

The next second, he turned around and spoke to the elders in a cold voice: “The ceremony is over. Take her away!”

His words were short, decisive, and left no room for argument.

Two guards walked toward Elara, but she remained completely motionless. Only when her arm was seized in a tight grip and she was dragged backward with force did she stumble forward a step, forced to turn around.

The moment she left the sacred altar, she couldn’t help but look back.

She didn’t even know what she was looking for. A final glance at Kael? To confirm that all of this had really happened? Or—

Elara had no idea how she left the sacred altar. She only remembered the moonlight gradually receding behind her, the stone steps stretching endlessly beneath her feet, and those originally indistinct murmurs slowly becoming clear. They pierced her eardrums like countless fine needles.

“She really was rejected?”

“Probably the first fated mate in Snow Moon Clan history to be publicly denied by the Clan Leader.”

“A half-wolf hybrid really is no good. Even the Moon misjudged this time.”

“So pitiful!”

Pitiful! That word cut sharper than mockery. It didn’t hurt when it stabbed in, but when it was pulled out, it tore away a piece of flesh.

Elara kept her head lowered, her fingertips ice-cold. The heart still pounding wildly in her chest felt as though it were being gripped tightly by an invisible hand. Every contraction brought a suffocating pain.

The mate bond—was still there! That invisible silver thread remained wrapped around her heart, tightening more and more, constantly reminding her that what had just happened was not a dream.

Yet the only one who had been rejected was her—Elara.

The guards escorted her to the outer perimeter of the sacred altar. The moonlight was now blocked by layers of tall stone walls, leaving only scattered fragments of silver glow scattered across the cold, damp ground.

“Remember this well—this is the boundary for half-wolf hybrids.”

One of the guards said coldly. There was no kindness in his tone, only mockery.

“Do not cross the line without permission in the future!”

Elara nodded without saying a single word and turned to leave.

“What a joke!” came another guard’s voice from behind. His undisguised laughter suggested he thought she had already walked far enough away—or perhaps he simply didn’t care whether she could hear him.

“She actually thought she could fly up to the branches, but the Clan Leader publicly drove her away instead.”

Elara’s steps faltered. Her fingertips trembled slightly, but she still didn’t turn her head.

Because she was used to it. Years of living as a beggar had long accustomed her to such gazes—scrutiny, suspicion, contempt, and rejection.

Only today, those gazes had been magnified countless times, like a public execution.

Under the moonlight, Kael still stood in the same spot, his figure tall and straight, as cold and indifferent as ever. It was as if the momentary soul resonance between them had never existed.

As if fate had never bound them together!

But only Elara knew—

That silver thread of b*****e still clung tightly to her heart. The burning pain in her chest grew stronger and stronger, as though something was being viciously torn apart.

She knew what it was: the mate bond being forcibly suppressed.

It silently reminded her that she had been chosen by the Moon, that the partner it selected for her was the one most compatible with her soul. It urged her to approach him—

However, Elara was pushed away by his own hand—thrust into an endless abyss… This tearing pain was far more agonizing than any physical wound.

The night wind blew past, and the low tolling of the bells from the sacred altar echoed as the crowd gradually dispersed.

Elara walked along with the flow of people, her steps unsteady, barely able to keep her balance.

She didn’t know how long she had been walking.

Behind her, the moonlight was gradually fading into the distance; ahead of her lay endless darkness. And she would eventually merge into this unknown world, searching for that one corner that could accept her.

She had no idea where she should go.

The Snow Moon Clan was vast, yet she had nowhere to belong. She could only visit the Great Elder’s garden once a year. The Wizard Hall and the Sacred Altar were not her home.

Among the humans, she had a small, drafty, leaky house—that was her shelter, her home.

At this moment, Keal, the Snow Moon Clan leader who had personally rejected her, stood watching her lost and desolate figure from afar. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. Deep within his silver pupils surged pain and restraint that he forcibly suppressed.

But none of this—Elara, in her current state, was completely unaware of it!

The sound of footsteps—“sha, sha, sha”—approached from behind and stopped beside her.

“Elara, come with me!”

She had listened to this voice for ten years. It was Teacher Herman.

No… it was the Holy Elder!

Elara lifted her head. In front of her, he was frowning slightly, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes held an emotion she couldn’t quite describe.

“Teacher Herman,” she called out habitually, her voice extremely hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against stone.

The Holy Elder did not correct her form of address. He simply reached out and gave her a gentle push on the back.

“Go on.”

Elara gathered what little strength she had left and followed the direction Teacher Herman was leading her, walking forward in a daze.

She didn’t know how long they walked until the road ahead was covered by a large shadow. There stood a figure wearing a wide cloak, the hood pulled low over his head.

He stood at the corner of the alley, half his body bathed in moonlight, the other half swallowed by shadow.

“Wait—” A low voice rang out in the night. It was very low and deep, as if forced out from the depths of his throat, carrying a faint tremor. Yet Elara heard it.

The next moment, her wrist was seized. Elara’s breath hitched. Almost instinctively, she struggled, trying to break free from the grip.

But that hand only tightened around her wrist—restrained, yet undeniable.

“Don’t go yet!” This time the voice was so low it was almost inaudible, but it carried an unmistakable tremor.

“Elara, don’t run away!” Teacher Herman’s voice was extremely soft, audible only to her. “Feel it with your heart. I’ll be waiting for you in the brightest place ahead.”