The vibrant hum of the Harmony Feast seemed to die, leaving Anya in a suffocating silence that resonated only with the frantic thump of her own heart. Rhys's gaze, cold and sharp as a winter blade, had pierced through her, leaving her exposed and trembling. The rejection, swift and absolute, had already taken root in the soft soil of her soul, even before he made a move.
He did move then, with the decisive stride of an Alpha accustomed to immediate obedience. He stalked towards her, cutting a path through the bewildered onlookers. Pack members from Whisperwood and Stonehaven alike turned, sensing the sudden, dangerous shift in the atmosphere. Alpha Thorne, Anya's father, stepped forward, his protective instincts flaring, but Rhys paid him no mind. His focus was solely on Anya, a terrifying intensity in his eyes.
"You," Rhys's voice was a low growl, carrying enough force to make Anya flinch. It wasn't loud, but it cut through the murmurs of the hall like a sharpened claw. "I, Rhys, Alpha of the Stonehaven Pack, reject you, Anya of the Whisperwood Pack, as my mate."
The words struck Anya like a physical blow, worse than any punch. The mate bond, which had briefly sung with dizzying joy, ripped apart. A searing pain tore through her chest, radiating outwards, setting every nerve ending alight. Her wolf, Lyra, whimpered, a sound of pure agony that only Anya could hear, retreating deep within her mind, leaving her feeling hollowed out and utterly alone. Her knees buckled, and for a terrifying second, she thought she might collapse onto the stone floor.
Her mother, Luna Maeve, gasped, rushing forward to catch her, her hands fluttering around Anya's trembling form. Alpha Thorne faced Rhys, his expression a mixture of shock and fury. "Alpha Rhys, what is the meaning of this? This is an insult to my pack, an affront to the Moon Goddess!"
Rhys didn't even spare Thorne a glance. His eyes remained fixed on Anya, contempt etched into his harsh features. "This female," he spat, his voice laced with venom, "is a threat. A shadow from a past betrayal that Stonehaven will not forget. Her presence here is an insult to my pack, Alpha Thorne. I would never take a Luna tainted by deceit and treachery."
Anya's head snapped up, the pain momentarily forgotten in a surge of bewildered outrage. "What are you talking about?" she whispered, her voice reedy and thin. "I don't understand."
But Rhys merely scoffed. "You understand well enough, little wolf. Or perhaps your kind are just better at deception than I remember." He turned, addressing the stunned hall, his voice now booming with Alpha authority. "Let it be known that this bond is severed. She is no mate of mine. And her presence is no longer welcome in Stonehaven territory."
He didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heel, his powerful frame moving away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Anya reeling, tears streaming silently down her face. The pain in her chest was a gaping wound, bleeding pure agony. His words – tainted, deceit, treachery – echoed in her ears, a horrifying accusation she couldn't comprehend.
The faces of the other wolves, once curious, now held pity, shock, or outright condemnation. Anya felt a wave of crushing shame wash over her. Every eye felt like a burning brand. She was no longer just rejected; she was branded, accused, publicly humiliated. The shame was almost as unbearable as the physical pain. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't stay.
Lyra, still whimpering, pulsed with a desperate urge to flee, to escape the crushing weight of rejection and false accusation. Anya didn't need to be told twice. Pushing past her parents' worried grasp, ignoring their desperate calls, she turned and ran. She ran blindly, fueled by pain and humiliation, past the stunned pack members, out of the grand hall, and into the unforgiving darkness of the Stonehaven night. She had to escape. Anywhere but here.