



Chapter 1
Aria
The moonlight always makes me feel like I don’t belong.
It slips through the cracks of the omega quarters, casting pale silver across the dusty floorboards, softening the sharp edges of a world that’s never been kind to me. I stand in front of the cracked mirror, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of the dress I borrowed from the wash room line. It's three years too old, two sizes too big, and still smells faintly of bleach and regret.
Tonight’s supposed to be special.
Eighteen. The age of the shift. The age when the bond awakens, and we find our fated mate.
I’ve dreamed of this moment for as long as I can remember. Not because I believe in fairy tales—those don’t exist for girls like me—but because the bond is the only thing no one can take from you. Not blood, not rank, not power. If the Moon Goddess chooses, she chooses.
And maybe, just maybe, she might choose me too. Give me the connection and love I have only ever dreamed of.
My fingers tremble as I try to pin my hair back. It’s thick and unruly, a wild black curtain that won’t be tamed no matter how hard I try. My eyes catch on the reflection in the mirror—not the dress or my freckles or the faint shadow beneath my eyes. Just… the expression. That flicker of hope I haven’t managed to smother yet.
My wolf stirs. Not fully awake, but tense and watchful. Her instincts are sharper than mine. She’s quiet most days, but tonight, she paces just beneath the surface, ears twitching, breath caught.
The scent of soap clings to my skin, but beneath it, I can smell my own nerves. That faint note of fear, of longing. The mix is subtle, but I know it’s there. I wonder if the others will smell it, too.
"Still trying to make yourself look pretty?" Mila’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade. She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, perfect in her satin gown and flawless curls. Her perfume hits me before her words do—too sweet, cloying like overripe berries in the summer heat.
“You know they only let you come because it’s law, right? You’re not actually going to find a mate.”
I swallow the words rising in my throat. I’ve learned not to fight back. That only makes it worse.
She smirks at my silence. “You’re like a stray mutt hoping someone will take you home.”
Then she’s gone, laughing her way down the hall with the other girls. They don't even try to be quiet. Why would they? I’m nothing. Just the omega orphan who showed up one day with no last name, no rank, and no past.
But they’re wrong about one thing.
I’m not just hoping someone will take me home. I’m hoping the Moon Goddess gives me a reason to leave this horrible place and I can be loved by the one she deems my equal.
—
The full moon hangs high by the time I step into the ceremony circle. The clearing is alive with music, perfume, and too much light. Silk dresses shimmer. Suits gleam. The ranked wolves of our pack move like royalty, every gesture practiced, every smile rehearsed.
The ground beneath my bare feet is damp and cool, charged with energy that makes my skin prickle. I can hear everything—the crinkle of silk, the soft clicking of jewelry, heartbeats quickened by nerves and excitement. My senses are too sharp. I am overwhelmed.
Then a hush falls over the crowd because he arrives.
Alpha King Kael Thorne.
The moment he steps into the circle, the crowd goes quiet. Even the trees seem to hold their breath. He's dressed in black—no ornaments, no crest, no crown—and still he commands everything.
He’s taller than I imagined. Sharper. Shadows cling to him like old secrets. His expression doesn’t change as he scans the gathering. Calculated. Disinterested. But even from across the clearing, I can feel it.
The air shifts.
Until his eyes land on mine.
The world stops.
A cold jolt surges through my chest. My wolf rises fast and wild, pressing against my skin, howling Mate. The connection hits like lightning—raw and unmistakable. I know it’s him. I feel it in my bones, in my blood, in the way the earth tilts beneath my feet.
My breath catches. My pulse roars in my ears. Every instinct screams to move toward him. My wolf thrashes inside me, desperate to close the space.
He smells like frost and forest, smoke and night. Like the sky before a storm. Dangerous, beautiful. Mine.
I take one step forward, heart pounding, trembling on the edge of something sacred. This is it.
Then he speaks.
“I reject you.”
The words slam into me like a blow.
For a second, I don’t understand.
The bond crackles between us, alive, undeniable—and still, he turns away. Like I’m nothing.
Like I imagined it.
The crowd gasps. I feel every pair of eyes on me. Whispers. Laughter. I think someone even claps.
I can’t breathe. My chest is burning, but I can’t move, can’t run. My wolf howls in pain and confusion, clawing against the rejection like it’s a physical wound. My knees threaten to buckle.
Someone snickers. Mila. Of course.
The Elder steps forward, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Under the law, the bond cannot be forced. If the Alpha King rejects the mate bond, the female is…” he hesitates, but only for a breath, “banished from the pack.”
Banished.
The word rings in my ears.
“No,” I whisper, but no one hears me.
They’ve already turned away.
Even he’s gone.
The crowd shifts to the next pairing, already erasing me from the night. I feel myself back away, slow, numb, until I’m swallowed by the trees. I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I have to run. The pain is too sharp. Too deep. My soul is splintering, and something inside me is unravelling.
I was chosen… and still, I wasn’t enough. He didn’t even consider it. Didn't even take one step in my direction… Rejected. Like I am nothing.
I make it to the edge of the forest before my legs give out. I collapse on the ground, sucking in air like it will fix the ache in my chest.
And that’s when it happens.
A sharp pulse shoots through my veins. My vision blurs, then sharpens unnaturally. My skin tingles, my bones stretch—and then it hits me.
My first shift.
But it doesn’t feel like a normal shift—not like how the elders have taught or described it to the young pups.
Something else is happening.
Something… ancient.
My last thought before the world goes black is that I can hear voices. Not from the pack.
From the shadows.
And they’re calling my name.