Chapter 1: The Rejection Ceremony
“I, Alpha Damon Hart of the Crescent Moon Pack, reject you, Selena Mavis, as my mate.”
The words struck harder than claws to the chest.
My breath caught. The world tilted. The hundreds of wolves gathered for the ceremony gasped, but none louder than the shattered sound that tore from my throat.
Damon’s voice was ice, void of emotion, like I was a burden he’d just shaken off. Standing tall on the platform before the moonstone altar, he stared down at me with those cold, gray eyes—eyes I had once dreamed of gazing into as his Luna.
He continued, without pause.
“You are weak. Wolf-less. An embarrassment to our bloodline. I refuse to accept the Moon Goddess’s mistake.”
I trembled in front of him, bare feet digging into the cold earth. I was still wearing the ceremonial white robe they gave me—meant to symbolize purity, unity, hope. But now I just looked like a ghost mourning her own death.
My wolf still hadn’t awakened. I was nineteen. Late. Unworthy. That’s all they saw. That’s all he ever saw.
I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice failed me.
“You’re nothing to me,” Damon sneered. “You never were.”
The crowd was silent for a moment too long. Then came the murmurs. Then the laughter. One by one, heads turned away from me. The Elders didn’t interfere. My so-called friends looked anywhere but at me. Even my aunt—who raised me—stood in the back, silently crying but doing nothing.
Just like that, I was discarded.
Rejected.
---
I ran. My bare feet pounded the forest floor, the sound of mockery and whispers chasing me like wolves in the dark.
I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to get away from them. From him. From the humiliation.
My wolf didn’t speak. She never had. She had never come forth, never howled, never whispered. I didn’t know if she was dead or asleep or simply broken like the rest of me.
I collapsed beneath a black pine, tears soaking the dry earth. My fingers dug into the ground. I wanted to scream—but all I could do was tremble.
I wasn’t just heartbroken.
I was nothing.
---
Hours passed.
Darkness swallowed the sky, and cold set into my bones. The woods beyond the pack border weren’t safe—not for a rejected wolf, and especially not for one without a wolf at all.
But I couldn’t go back.
Suddenly, a rustling behind me. Twigs snapped. I sat up, heart racing.
Eyes. Glowing. Three of them.
Rogues.
Their snarls tore through the trees like thunder. Dirty fur, bloodstained muzzles. They had smelled weakness. And blood. And abandonment.
They circled me.
I tried to stand, but one of them lunged, slashing my side. I screamed as hot pain seared across my ribs. I fell, coughing, dirt in my mouth. They were toying with me. Playing.
Another came from behind. I rolled, but claws raked down my back. Blood soaked my robe.
This was it. This was how I died. Rejected. Alone. Forgotten.
Then—
A roar. Deep. Ancient. Lethal.
The rogues froze.
Out of the shadows stepped a massive, jet-black wolf. Eyes glowing gold. Power radiating from him like fire in a storm.
The rogues whimpered. They bolted.
The black wolf growled once, low and cold. Then turned to me.
I blinked through the blood and tears. My vision blurred.
And I blacked out.
