CHAPTER 1: THE REJECTION
(LYRA’S POV)
"You are a disgrace to the bloodline."
Kael’s voice cracked like a whip across the clearing, loud and cruel.
I couldn’t breathe. My legs felt like they’d disappear beneath me, but I didn’t let them. Not in front of them. Not in front of him.
The crowd was silent—too silent. Every wolf in the Raventhorn Pack stood still as if they didn’t want to blink and miss the moment the Alpha rejected his fated mate. Me.
"Say something," I whispered, barely able to force the words past my lips.
Kael’s eyes met mine. Not soft. Not sorry. Cold. Calculated.
"There is nothing to say, Lyra. You’re weak. An omega with no power. No future."
I stepped forward, the wind catching the edges of my cloak as if to stop me, pull me back, protect me from humiliation. But there was no going back. Not now. Not when everyone was watching.
"We’re fated," I said, louder this time. I could hear the desperation in my own voice, and I hated it. "You feel it. I know you do."
Kael’s jaw tightened. For a moment, I saw something flicker in his gaze. Pain? Regret?
He crushed it.
"I reject you, Lyra Blackthorn," he declared, his voice like iron. "And I strip you of your claim to the Raventhorn Pack."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Some wolves turned away, too ashamed to meet my eyes. Others whispered—cowards hiding behind gossip.
The mark on my wrist burned. My bond mark. It was fading. Crumbling like ashes across my skin.
"You bastard," I whispered. "Why? Why are you doing this?"
Kael took a single step forward, towering above me, his eyes shadowed by something I didn’t recognize.
"Because if I don’t, you’ll die," he muttered, so low only I could hear.
"What—"
But before I could say more, he turned his back on me. Just like that.
Gone.
I stood there, hollow, heart bleeding inside my chest. My hands trembled at my sides, fingers curling into fists.
"You coward!" I shouted after him, my voice breaking. "You’re afraid of something! Tell me what it is!"
He didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.
Then came the horn. A low, mournful sound that chilled the bones.
I spun toward the sound, confusion tightening my throat.
From the edges of the circle, two enforcers dragged someone forward, chains rattling.
"No," I breathed. "No, no, no..."
It was my father.
Bloodied. Beaten. Barely able to stand.
My heart stopped.
Alpha Vane—Kael’s father—stood beside the Elder Council, face carved from stone. His voice thundered across the clearing.
"Bran Blackthorn is found guilty of high treason. He stole sacred scrolls from the Hall of Ancients. He betrayed the code. The penalty is death."
"You’re lying!" I screamed, running toward them.
Arms grabbed me—pack guards, holding me back like I was some kind of threat.
"Let me go! He didn’t do anything!"
My father raised his head. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he smiled when he saw me. That same smile he used to give me after training when I’d fall and scrape my knees.
"Lyra," he said.
"Papa," I cried.
He tried to step forward, but one of the enforcers slammed a fist into his stomach.
"Stop it!" I shouted, thrashing. "You’re hurting him!"
Kael stood at the edge of the platform, unmoving. Watching.
I met his eyes again, my voice cracking. "Do something! You’re the Alpha now!"
His mouth opened, but no words came out. His fists were clenched. His shoulders tense.
He knew. He knew.
"You know he’s innocent!" I screamed.
A tear slipped down Kael’s cheek. But he didn’t move.
"Please!"
The Elder raised a hand.
The executioner stepped forward.
"No! You can't... he's innocent!"
