chapter 1
1081 Words
Prologue
The Night of the Moon War
The scent of blood and burning wood filled the air as the Moon Crest Pack fell. Screams echoed through the night, wolves shifting in desperate attempts to defend their land, their families. Alpha Felix fought at the front lines, his massive black wolf slashing through enemy ranks, but they were outnumbered.
And in the chaos, Aurora was lost.
She was barely ten years old, her tiny legs carrying her through the dense forest as the war raged behind her. Her mother, Luna Celeste, had hidden her deep in the woods, whispering rushed instructions.
"Run, Aurora. No matter what happens, don’t stop. Never let them find you.”
Tears streamed down Aurora’s cheeks as she obeyed. But the moment she reached the riverbank, darkness engulfed her.
She never saw her parents again.
—
Chapter One
Twelve years later…
Aurora moved silently through the grand halls of the Blood Howl Pack’s estate, her hands clutching a tray of food. The scent of roasted meat and herbs filled the air, but she barely noticed. She had been a maid here for as long as she could remember, stripped of any title, of any name that once belonged to her.
She was just Aurora, the lowly servant.
And he… he was Alpha Killian.
The most feared Alpha in the northern packs. Ruthless. Merciless. The man whose voice alone sent shivers down her spine.
And the mate she could never claim.
The mate bond burned beneath her skin like a cruel reminder of fate’s twisted humor. He was destined to be hers, but he rejected that bond without hesitation. To him, she was nothing more than a servant—a burden, an insult to his status.
She was beneath him.
Aurora swallowed hard as she reached his office, her heart hammering against her ribs. She hesitated only for a moment before knocking.
A heartbeat later, his deep, commanding voice called out.
"Enter."
Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, keeping her head down. The air in the room was thick with his scent—cedarwood and stormy air, intoxicating yet suffocating all at once.
Killian sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his piercing silver eyes locking onto her the moment she entered. He was power personified, his broad shoulders rigid with dominance, his aura dark and consuming.
Aurora hated that her body reacted to him. That her wolf whimpered in the back of her mind, desperate to be acknowledged.
She carefully placed the tray on the table, willing her hands to stop trembling under his scrutiny.
"You're late."
His voice was ice, each syllable cutting through her like a blade.
Aurora clenched her fingers against her apron. "I'm sorry, Alpha," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
His gaze darkened. "You speak when spoken to, maid."
The word stung like a slap, but she remained silent, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the pain from showing.
Killian pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. He walked toward her, slow and deliberate, his mere presence suffocating. Every step he took sent an invisible force crashing into her, the power of his wolf pressing against her own.
When he was close enough that the heat of his body brushed against her, he lowered his head, his voice a low growl.
"You disgust me."
The words sliced through her, sharper than any knife.
He brushed past her as if she were nothing more than air, but the moment his shoulder touched hers, the mate bond flared—hot, undeniable.
A spark of electricity shot through her veins, making her gasp softly. She felt it deep in her core, a pull so strong that it nearly brought her to her knees.
For a second—just a second—his gaze flickered.
Longing. Regret. Need.
But then it was gone, replaced with cold indifference.
"Get out."
Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat, turned on her heel, and left without another word.
She didn’t see the way Killian’s hands clenched into fists.
Or the way he exhaled sharply, as if fighting something deep within himself.
Because despite his cruelty, despite his rejection—he couldn’t stop wanting her.
Aurora moved through the stone hallways, her heart still racing from the encounter. No matter how much she told herself she was used to his rejection, it still hurt. Every damn time.
She was almost at the servants' quarters when a familiar voice sneered behind her.
"You know, you should just leave this pack."
Aurora halted, already exhausted by what was coming.
Siara stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her sharp brown eyes glinting with malice. The flickering hallway torches cast eerie shadows over her face, making her smirk appear even more wicked.
Siara had always been like this.
She was a warrior—a skilled one at that. She had trained in the military just to be closer to Killian, hoping to win his favor.
And she despised Aurora.
Aurora turned to face her, schooling her expression into something neutral. "Don’t you have something better to do?"
Siara stepped closer, looking her up and down in clear disdain. "You know you're unwanted, right?"
Aurora met her gaze head-on. She had no energy left to play these games.
"Don't you have to deal with Davina?" she asked coolly before turning to her door and pushing it open.
Siara huffed, clearly irritated, but she didn’t push further. Instead, she scoffed and walked away, her boots clicking against the stone floor.
Aurora shut the door behind her, exhaling slowly.
This was her life.
Davina and Siara. Two women who had been at war for Killian’s attention before Aurora ever entered the picture.
Davina—the Beta’s daughter. The perfect candidate to be Killian’s Luna. She was obsessed with him, convinced that she was meant to be his, despite the mate bond choosing someone else.
Then there was Siara—the deadly, calculating warrior who saw Aurora as an obstacle.
And Aurora?
She didn’t even want this cursed bond.
Yet she was trapped in it, forced to bear the weight of a love she could never claim.
She rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the cold. Sleep would not come easily tonight.
Killian paced his chambers, his wolf restless, his hands clenched at his sides.
The bond had flared up the second he touched her.
Every time she was near, it was getting worse.
- Writer
