Rejected and Reborn

**Aria’s POV** The scent of roasting venison and fermented honey mead thickens the air inside the Great Hall of the Silver Moon Pack, but to me, it smells like a slaughterhouse waiting for its first kill. Tonight is the Solstice Mating Ceremony. For three hundred years, the Silver Moon Pack has gathered under the waxing moon to witness the sacred pairing of its warriors. It is a night of blood oaths, running under the stars, and Alpha wolves claiming the women destined to bear their lineage. I stand near the heavy oak pillars at the back of the hall, out of the torchlight. My hands are tucked deep into the pockets of my faded grey dress. Unlike the other unmated females in rich silks, I am clad in rags. I am Aria Frost. To the pack, I am the Omega orphan who scrubs banquet pots and mends leather armor. They do not know that every night for the past three years, I was out in the Frost-Spire Mountains dragging stone up icy cliffs and running until my lungs bled. They see a lamb. I have spent eighteen years building a blade inside my chest. "Still hiding in the shadows, little rat?" A voice, slick as spilled oil, cuts through the laughter. Chloe Vance—daughter of the Crimson Fang Pack's Alpha—steps into view. Her silver dress fits like a second skin, accentuating every curve. "I’m just enjoying the music, Lady Chloe," I say quietly. First rule of surviving as an Omega: never give an apex predator a reason to snap your neck. Chloe scoffs, taking a delicate sip of wine. "Enjoying the music? Or waiting for Damon to look your way? Tonight, the alliance between Silver Moon and Crimson Fang will be sealed. Damon needs a strong female by his side, not a maid who smells like dishwater." She struts back toward the high council platform. She isn't wrong about the politics. The Rogue Syndicate has been encroaching on our borders, burning villages. Damon needs soldiers. He needs the five hundred elite warriors Chloe’s father promised as a dowry. Across the hall, sitting on the obsidian throne, is Alpha Damon Sterling. At twenty-two, he is broad-shouldered, ruthless in battle, and carries the dark beauty of a true Alpha. And he is my mate. The moment I turned eighteen three months ago, the bond sparked to life. Cedar, crushed pine needles, and electric ozone—his scent pulled at my soul like a compass pointing true north. I knew he felt it too. I had caught him staring at me with dark desire and confusion. *He bonded with us,* my wolf, Nyx, whispers in my mind. *The Moon Goddess does not make mistakes.* *The Moon Goddess doesn't sit on a throne of politics, Nyx,* I answer. *Men do.* **Damon’s POV** The weight of the Alpha crest burning against my collarbone feels heavier than usual tonight. From my seat on the throne, I survey the hall. My people are oblivious to the storm brewing at our borders. If I don't secure an alliance with the Crimson Fang Pack tonight, Silver Moon will burn. My eyes drift over the unmated females, but my instincts ignore them, dragging my gaze back to the shadowed pillar at the corner of the room. To Aria. She stands in her threadbare dress, quiet as a statue. Pale, delicate face, framed by deep violet eyes. My wolf, Fenrir, snarls inside my head. *She is there. Our mate is standing in the dark. Go to her!* *Shut up, Fenrir,* I growl back. *She’s an Omega. She has no bloodline, no fortune. The elders would revolt, and Vance would take his warriors and leave us to die.* Alpha Vance sits to my left, leaning in. "My daughter stands ready, Damon. The five hundred warriors are waiting at the border. Reject the match, and we march home by dawn." "I understand, Alpha Vance," I say, my voice cold and steady. The heavy drums begin to beat. It is time. I rise and walk down the central aisle. Hundreds of eyes lock onto me. I stop in front of Chloe. She shines like silver foil, smiling with absolute certainty. Then, Fenrir takes control of my body for a fraction of a second. My head snaps to the left, my eyes bypassing Chloe and locking directly onto Aria. The universe narrows. The bond blazes violently into life, flooding my veins with staggering warmth. I see the faint flush on her cheeks. I see her violet eyes wide with hope. "Aria..." The name leaves my lips before I can stop it. I take a step toward her. "Alpha Damon!" Alpha Vance’s voice slams into me like a blade. "My daughter brings you five hundred warriors and ten tons of silver. What does *she* bring you?" I freeze. Cold reality crashes down. Aria has no family. No army. If I choose her, my pack will fall. *Forgive me, Aria,* I think, feeling a piece of my soul die. I step back to Chloe, taking her hand. Fenrir lets out an agonized howl in the back of my mind. I lift my chin and speak the words that will butcher us both: "I, Alpha Damon Sterling of the Silver Moon Pack, hereby reject you, Aria Frost, as my mate and my Luna." A sharp crack echoes through my soul as the bond snaps. The agony is blinding. I force myself to look at her, waiting to see her shatter. She doesn't. Aria stays standing, her spine as rigid as steel. A single trickle of blood leaks from her lip where she has bitten down, but her violet eyes are completely ablaze with a cold, terrifying fire. She doesn't shed a single tear. "Do you accept the rejection, Omega?" I ask, my breath catching at her terrifying composure. "I accept your rejection, Alpha Damon," she says, her voice cutting through the hall like a razor blade. "May the power you bought tonight be worth the soul you just threw away." Before anyone can move, Aria rips a long strip of fabric from her tunic and slams it down at my feet—the sign of total pack severance. "I revoke my allegiance to the Silver Moon Pack," she announces. "I leave this dirt to you, Damon. Keep your crown of ashes." She turns on her heel and walks out into the freezing night, leaving behind a hall filled with stunned silence—and a hollow, bleeding void inside my chest that will never heal.