Amaris
I didn't cry when the Moon Goddess marked me.
I should have. The entire pack was watching—some with disgust, some with pity, a few with the kind of detached amusement one
might have watching a dog walk on two legs. The marking glowed silver across my collarbone, spiraling in a delicate rune that shimmered like frost beneath the
ceremonial torchlight
They said the Moon never made mistakes.
They were wrong.
"She's an omega," someone whispered. Not even a whisper, really—just loud enough to echo across the stone hall like it had
teeth.
"She doesn't even have a wolf," another scoffed.
And then: "That's the Alpha's mate?"
Laughter. Scornful. Cruel. Unchecked.
I stood barefoot at the center of the moonlit
circle, the runes etched into the marble beneath my feet warm with ancient magic. My hands were trembling at my sides, but I kept my chin high. My dress—simple, borrowed—clung to my body like a secret I wasn't allowed to have. My heart pounded so hard I thought the Goddess might hear it and change her mind.
But she didn't.
And then he arrived.
Alpha Kael.
He walked through the crowd like a god descending among insects. The heavy silence that fell in his wake was reverent and chilling. Dressed in ceremonial black, his dark hair tied at the nape of his neck, he looked like a blade forged in fury and bathed in ice.
My fated mate.
He didn't look at me.
Not once.
Even as he stepped into the circle and the bond surged between us—an invisible cord that tugged, pulled, ached—he kept his gaze
on the High Priestess instead.
"She's not worthy," he said. His voice was cold, even, almost bored.
The High Priestess didn't flinch. "The Moon has chosen."
His jaw ticked. A muscle pulsed near his temple. He turned to face me then, and I felt it—every ounce of loathing he'd stored inside him, every insult he didn't have to say aloud. It slammed into me harder than any blow I'd taken as a child, and I had taken many.
"This," he murmured, circling me slowly, "is a
mistake."
The rune on my collarbone burned.
I didn't reply. Not because I had nothing to say, but because I knew it wouldn't matter.
He stopped behind me. I felt the weight of him, the heat. The disgust.
"You will obey me," he said quietly, so that only I could hear. "You will not speak unless spoken to. And you will stay out of my way."
His breath brushed the back of my neck like a
warning.
And then he stepped forward and placed his palm against my rune.
The bond sealed.
It felt like a collar snapping shut.
Applause followed. Polite. Thin. Forced. Even the wolves couldn't pretend this was anything other than a scandal wrapped in prophecy. An Alpha bound to an omega with no wolf. A throne given to someone no one wanted.
A ceremony of shame.
The Mistress was the first to step forward from the crowd. She walked with the elegance of someone born to be adored, her crimson
gown clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her hair was coiled in gold-threaded braids, and her lips curled into a smile that never touched her
eyes.
"Congratulations," she purred, offering Kael a kiss on the cheek. She made sure I saw it.
Kael accepted it without a glance in my direction.
Then, with deliberate steps, she turned to me.
I kept my face blank. I would not let her see my fear. I would not give her the satisfaction.
Her hand rose gently—too gently—and brushed a strand
of hair behind my ear.
"Welcome to your new life, darling," she whispered, her voice syrupy sweet. "You'll find the Alpha has… particular tastes."
The smirk that followed made my skin crawl.
She leaned in closer.
"And don't worry," she added, lips brushing my cheek like a kiss of death, "you won't be staying long."
Then she turned, looping her arm through Kael's, and the crowd parted to let them pass like royalty on a red carpet made of silence.
I stood alone in the circle, the bond sealing itself into my soul like ice.
And the moon watched, silent as always.