Moonless Mate: The Eye of Fate

IVY “Don’t be weird. Don’t bring disgrace to this family like that father of yours.” My mother’s voice rang in my ears as she pinned my collar down like I was some stray dog that needed grooming. Her nails, perfectly manicured and sharp enough to take a life, scratched against my skin. I swatted her hands away. “I’m never weird,” I said, dodging the third attempt she made to fix my hair. “People just have a bad habit of not understanding me.” Mother’s lips pressed together so tight they turned white. “That is exactly what I mean, Ivy. This is not the time to be yourself.” Ah, yes. The usual morning motivation speech. The ‘pretend you are someone you are not because people don’t like the real you’ talk. Classic. “Just keep your head down, do as you are told,” she continued. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. And above all—” her fingers clamped onto my wrist like a vice— “You must be chosen as The Luna. That’s the only thing that matters.” “Sure. I’ll add that to my to-do list. Right under ‘breathe’ and ‘blink.’” She didn’t laugh. She never did when I made jokes about things she considered serious. And this? This was serious, at least to her. For me, this was a living hell, one of my worst nightmares becoming reality. The Eye Academy. The most prestigious training ground for the next generation of pack leaders. Only the best got in. And somehow, by sheer luck or some sort of generational curse, I had been accepted. My mother took it as a divine sign that our family name would finally be redeemed after my father dragged it to the muds. Me? I took it as a sign that I was about to be trapped in an institution filled with overly aggressive, hierarchy-obsessed lunatics for 365 days. “You don’t understand how important this is,” she whispered, as if the walls had ears. “We are lucky they even considered you after what your father__” I stiffened. Here it comes. “—after the disgrace he brought upon us.” Disgrace. The word stung me, deep in my chest because the man I remembered him to be wasn’t who they portray him to be now and it hurts so badly. Everyone knew the story. My father, chosen by the EYE academy to be an omega, decided one day that his strength made him a beta. He thought he deserved more. Challenged the ranks. Got caught trying to cheat his way up the chain. And the punishment? Humiliation. A public trial. Prison. And then— My mother’s eyes squinted, just for a second, but I knew she was thinking about it too. The last part. The part no one spoke about, but everyone whispered behind our backs. “He wanted more,” I muttered. “I guess it’s a family trait.” She inhaled sharply. “Don’t.” I shrugged. “You brought it up.” Her fingers twitched like she wanted to slap the words off my tongue, but instead, she smoothed down her dress, regaining that cold, composed mask she always wore. “Ivy, listen to me. Do this right, and no one will remember him. They’ll only remember you.” I looked at her. Really looked at her. And for once, I saw something beyond the usual sharpness in her eyes. Desperation. A hunger for redemption so deep it was almost sad. Almost. “I don’t care about being The Luna,” I admitted. She gripped my face in both hands, her nails digging into my cheeks. “Then care about me.” Well. That was a low blow. My mother always knew how to emotionally blackmail me with her words, I love my mum, even though we never saw eye to eye, she was all I got. I sighed and pried her fingers off me. “Fine. I’ll try not to be weird.” Relief flooded her face so fast, I almost felt guilty. Almost. **** The academy gates were just ahead, tall and iron-wrought, this would be my life for the next 365 days and I hated it. The moment I stepped inside, I was no longer just Ivy. I was a candidate. A contender. A player in a centuries-old system designed to separate the strong from the weak. And apparently, I had to play along. At least for now. I turned to my mother one last time. “If I die in there, you’re not allowed to say ‘I told you so.’” She didn’t laugh. Again. Instead, she smoothed an invisible crease on her sleeve and said, “Just survive, Ivy. And win.” Then, without another word, she turned and walked away. I watched her go, her expectations settling onto my shoulders like a cloak I never asked for. Then I faced forward, squared my stance, and stepped through the gates of The Eye Academy. One year. 365 days. All I had to do was survive. And not be weird. Yeah. Easy. The Academy smelled like arrogance and overpriced perfume. The halls were too clean, the students too polished, and the whole place had the energy of a kingdom where everyone already knew their place. Unfortunately, I didn’t know mine. I was a mistake, an anomaly, a girl who was supposed to keep her mouth shut and blend in. Mom’s words echoed in my head: Don’t be weird, Ivy. Be quiet. Be careful. I had barely made it through the grand entrance when disaster struck. “Watch where you’re going, freak.” A blonde girl with dead, jaded eyes and a face sculpted for magazine covers stood in front of me, lips curled like she had smelled something offensive. Probably me. “You walked into me,” I pointed out. Her friends, all polished and identical like expensive dolls, snickered behind her. “You’re new,” she said, like that explained something. “Let me guess—low rank, no status, and you think this place is about learning?” “Oh, sorry. Should I have sacrificed a goat at the entrance? Maybe bow to you?” I was already doing the exact opposite of what my mum told me not to do. I was already being weird, the freak. The laughter stopped. Her eyes narrowed. “Cute.” And then pain. Sudden and sharp, blooming in my ribs. She had elbowed me. Hard. I staggered, but my pride kept me from falling. My pulse drummed as old memories clawed their way up, being pushed down stairs, my books kicked across hallways, laughter always ringing in my ears. I have always been at the receiving end of bully and at eighteen years, I thought I had escaped that cycle. Not again. She leaned in. “Stay out of my way, freak. You might not know but we are not the same, get that into you thick skull, I am Sophia, the queen here,” I did what any self-respecting person would do: I rolled my eyes and walked away before I got suspended on my first day and my mother would disown me for bringing her a new batch of shame. The school felt suffocating already, the air too dense, it was sucking every breath out of my lungs. My skin tingle in an unfamiliar way, my senses sharper, hyperaware. Something was wrong with this place. Or maybe something was wrong with me. I wandered, letting my feet take me away from the noise, away from them. Past the training fields, through a dense cluster of trees, until suddenly, the world opened up. A lake was just before me, its surface dark and glassy, reflecting the storm-heavy sky. A gentle wind rippled through the trees. For the first time since I got here, I could breathe. I heard a sound coming from behind me. I veered around immediately being swept by my instinct against all logic. That was when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. A man stood by the water’s edge, back to me, shoulders tense. Tall, broad, dark hair tousled like he had run his hands through it too many times. He exuded raw power, I could tell by his composure, his aura, his physique, gosh his physique, it was unlike any I have ever seen before. And then he moved. Veered around as if pulled by the same invisible force that had gripped me. His eyes locked onto mine. Everything inside me shattered and rearranged in a single breath. A force slammed into me, not physically, but deep in my bones, in my blood. My skin burned. My pulse stuttered. A soundless snarl curled in my chest, a primal force waking up, clawing forward. His expression mirrored my own—stunned, wary, like the ground had shifted beneath him. No. This wasn’t possible. He stepped forward, his presence overwhelming, pressing against something buried inside me. His voice was rough, low. “Who are you?” I wanted to speak. Couldn’t. His gaze flickered—jaw tightening, nostrils flaring, as if he could scent the shift in the air. Recognition dawned, horror lining the edges on our faces. Mate! Mate! Mate! That word wasn’t supposed to exist for me or anyone. My wolf—dormant my whole life, silent, suppressed—kicked, roared, came alive in an instant. Heat flooded my veins, my breath catching as something within me, ancient, buried—recognized him. His hands curled into fists. His whole body locked up, rigid as a statue. “This isn’t possible—” His voice cut off, like he couldn’t finish the sentence. Same. I took a step back, panic clashing with the strange pull tethering me to him. “This isn’t real.” His throat bobbed. “It shouldn’t be.” But it was. A scientific impossibility, for a century this has never happened. A cruel joke. A connection that shouldn’t, couldn’t, exist. And yet, there we were, standing by a dark lake. Staring at my Mate.