The Night of the Bonding Ceremony
The full moon hung high, burning white and merciless above the sacred grove. The stone altar shimmered with enchantments, ancient runes pulsing in time with Nyra's heartbeat.
Tonight was supposed to be hers.
The Luna's Ceremony had been foretold since she was sixteen. The pack's Seer, the Elders, even the moon spirits whispered of her destiny—Alpha Kael's mate, the one chosen by fate, fire, and blood.
She was power wrapped in silk. Her long black hair was braided with silver threads, her gown tailored from mooncloth. Every step she took made wolves hold their breath.
But Kael?
Kael wouldn't look at her.
She noticed it from the first moment she arrived—his shoulders stiff, his jaw locked, eyes fixed on anything but her. The Elders whispered of omens, but she ignored them.
After all, wasn't this the moment she had been trained for? Born for?
Kael climbed the stone steps, stopping before her. His scent was familiar, but something clung to it now—fear… and guilt.
Then she saw him slip something into his robe.
A scroll. Sealed in Bloodfang wax.
Her wolf stirred inside her. Something's wrong.
"Alpha Kael," Elder Marek began. "Do you come before the moon to claim your fated Luna?"
Kael hesitated.
The air tightened. Even the wind stopped.
Then Kael spoke.
"I come… to reject her."
Gasps ripped through the crowd like wildfire. Nyra blinked slowly, as if she hadn't heard him.
"I'm sorry," she said, a smirk touching her lips. "You come to what?"
"I reject you," Kael said louder, firmer. "Nyra Vale, you are no longer my fated mate. The bond is broken."
The ceremony altar flared blue. The bond rune shattered in the air like glass.
Nyra didn't flinch. But inside? Her wolf screamed.
The Elders stepped back. Her mother sobbed somewhere in the crowd. And from the shadows emerged Alpha Callen—tall, cruel-eyed, a smirk carved into his face like a promise of pain.
"By decree of the Council," Kael continued, "Nyra Vale is hereby stripped of her title and banished from the Nightveil Pack. She is to be escorted to Bloodfang territory as part of the new alliance treaty."
Nyra's stomach dropped.
Alliance treaty.
He was selling her. To their enemies.
"You're trading me like livestock?" she whispered, her voice deadly soft.
"For peace," Kael muttered, but even he couldn't meet her eyes.
"For cowardice," she spat.
Two guards grabbed her arms. Her wolf surged to the surface, but runes activated beneath her feet—binding spells. They had prepared for this. They knew she'd fight.
"You planned this," she hissed. "You had the spellcasters bind me."
"Forgive me," Kael said.
"Forgive you?" she laughed. "I will haunt your bloodline, Kael. I will burn your name into the moon as a curse."
Callen stepped forward and gripped her jaw.
"Don't worry, little Luna," he growled. "You'll be well-used in my pack. That sharp mouth of yours will learn to beg."
Kael flinched, but said nothing.
Nothing.
⸻
Hours Later – Bloodfang Territory
The ride was brutal. Chains laced with silver cut into her wrists. The guards didn't speak. When she stumbled, they laughed.
Thrown into a stone cell beneath the Bloodfang stronghold, Nyra collapsed onto the cold floor.
No light. No magic. Just rage.
But wolves do not die in silence.
They transform.
⸻
One Year Later
The forest trembled beneath her feet.
A rogue patrol spotted her. Too late.
Claws. Blood. Screams.
Nyra Vale was no longer a Luna. No longer a prisoner. No longer bound.
She was a curse wearing skin.
She stepped over the body of the last patrol guard, eyes glowing crimson. Her skin was marked with ancient sigils, her scent laced with death magic and moonfire.
And in the distance?
Nightveil territory rose like a challenge.
Kael was still Alpha.
But not for long.
She was coming home.
Not to be claimed.
Not to be forgiven.
But to burn every traitor with the fury of a betrayed Luna.